“Mr. Sullivan, I just sent you a copy of the divorce agreement. It’s the one my husband and I signed on our wedding day. Are there any issues?” I stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, my fingers unconsciously tracing the edge of my phone. “Miss Miller, I’ve reviewed the agreement. Everything seems to be in order,” Mr. Sullivan’s professional voice came through the phone. “You have one month until the three-year term is up. Once it expires, the agreement automatically takes effect. You’ll just need to go to the courthouse to finalize the divorce.” “Alright, thank you.” Hanging up, I looked up at our wedding photo on the wall. In the picture, I wore a pure white gown, my eyes crinkling into happy crescents from smiling. Beside me, Alexander Thorne stood tall in a sharp suit, his face handsome, yet devoid of even a hint of a smile. Love and indifference, clear as day. “This day is finally almost here. You must be so happy, right?” I murmured to myself, my fingertip gently tracing the man’s cold profile in the photo. The front door clicked open, and I quickly withdrew my hand, turning to greet him. “You’re back.” I took the suit jacket Alex had shed, then knelt to help him into his slippers, my movements practiced as if rehearsed a thousand times. Alex loosened his tie, his expression cool and distant. “The Thorne Corporation’s anniversary gala is next month. I need you to attend.” My hands, still smoothing his jacket, paused. I shook my head. “I can’t make it.” “Why not?” Alex frowned. I was about to speak, but Alex suddenly seemed to understand, his eyes turning cold. “Is it because I’ve been with Isabelle Dubois lately? I told you on our wedding day that I have someone I love. You also said you wouldn’t interfere.” My heart twisted painfully, as if someone had torn a gaping wound inside me. Right. What kind of husband tells his wife on their wedding day that he’s in love with someone else and makes her sign a pre-nup for divorce three years later? I was just doing as he wished; I wouldn’t be here next month, so I couldn’t attend the gala. Three years ago, the Miller and Thorne families, two of the most powerful dynasties, announced their upcoming alliance through marriage. I had secretly loved Alex since childhood, and when I heard I would marry him, I was ecstatic. But on our wedding night, Alex handed me a divorce agreement. “I have someone I love, but her family is ordinary, and the Thorne family won’t accept her,” he said, his tone cold, his words blunt. “I’ll use these three years to become the head of the Thorne family. Then, no one will dare to object. For these three years, we’ll keep up appearances as a married couple, and when the term is up, we’ll divorce.” That night, I signed as he wished, but cried all night in the bathroom. Yet, less than three months into our marriage, Isabelle Dubois, after having a spat with Alex, vanished without a trace. Alex searched for her like a madman, using every connection he had, but there was no news of her. During that time, he didn’t come home for nights on end, and when he did, he was always reeking of alcohol, his eyes dangerously dark. Until one late night, he returned completely drunk and slammed me onto the bed. His kisses fell, thick with the smell of liquor, but his words were— “Isabelle… why did you leave? Why are you with someone else? Don’t you trust me?” I froze, my heart clenching so tightly I could barely breathe. So… he had found her. But Isabelle was already with someone else. That night was my first time, but Alex held me and called out another woman’s name all night. The next morning, Alex saw the bloodstains on the sheets, his eyes faltering for a moment, but he said nothing. I, too, acted as if nothing had happened, preparing fresh clothes for him, and even gently reminding him of an important meeting before he left. I pretended to be unaffected, but inside, my heart was bleeding. From then on, I treated him with even more careful devotion. He had a sensitive stomach, so I woke up early every day to prepare a light, stomach-friendly breakfast. He was stressed with work, so I learned massage techniques to help relieve his fatigue. He preferred quiet, so I never made a fuss in front of him, even walking lightly. Gradually, Alex seemed to treat me like a wife. He started bringing me small gifts when he returned from business trips. He’d make me a cup of cold medicine when I caught a flu. He even held me as he fell asleep late at night, his palm resting on my waist, his body heat searing. Alex never mentioned the divorce again, as if the agreement had never existed. I even naively believed that perhaps he really would fall in love with me. Until three months ago, when Isabelle broke up with her boyfriend and returned home. Alex almost immediately went back to her side. He ate with her, shopped with her, and even canceled important meetings just because Isabelle said she was “feeling down.” I stood at the window, watching Alex’s car drive towards Isabelle’s apartment once again, and finally understood. True love is true love. No matter how much I gave, it couldn’t compare to a single glance from Isabelle. Thankfully, the three-year contract marriage was finally nearing its end. I told myself that these three years were just a dream. Now, the dream was over, and it was time for me to leave. “Why aren’t you speaking?” Alex’s voice broke through my reverie. I stared at him, my throat tight. He… didn’t remember the divorce agreement? For three years, I had counted every day, terrified that the moment the term expired, he would leave without hesitation. But now, he seemed to have completely forgotten about it. I opened my mouth, about to remind him, when Alex’s phone suddenly rang. As soon as he answered, Isabelle’s tearful voice came through. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, but I saw Alex’s face instantly change. “Don’t be scared, I’m on my way.” He hung up, grabbed his car keys, and rushed out. In his haste, he slammed into my shoulder. I stumbled, my back hitting the doorframe, and a muffled gasp of pain escaped me. But Alex didn’t even turn his head; his figure had already disappeared out the door. I leaned against the wall, slowly walking back to the bedroom. Taking off my jacket, I saw a bruise already forming on my shoulder. I took out the first-aid kit, silently applying ointment to myself, my heart feeling as if it were being slowly cut open by a dull knife. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly out the window as the sky gradually darkened, until my phone rang. It was Alex. “Come to City Central Hospital.” My heart jumped. I instinctively asked, “What happened?” “Just come. I’ll tell you when you get here.” When I arrived, I saw Alex standing by the operating room door from afar, with Isabelle leaning into his embrace, tears streaming down her face, looking utterly devastated. My steps faltered, my chest feeling as if something had tightly clenched it, making it hard to breathe. “What’s going on?” I walked over, asking softly. Alex looked up at me. “Isabelle’s mother had a sudden case of leukemia. She needs an immediate bone marrow transplant.” I froze. “And?” “We’ve searched the whole city, but couldn’t find a match.” Alex said flatly. “I got tested, and it’s a match.” My pupils constricted. I looked at him in disbelief. “You’re going to donate bone marrow?” “Donating bone marrow has risks, you…” “I didn’t call you here for your permission,” Alex interrupted me. “The surgery requires a next-of-kin’s signature.” Next-of-kin… My heart ached fiercely. Yes, legally, I was still his wife. But in his heart, his next-of-kin was never me. I clenched my fists so tightly my nails almost dug into my palms. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll sign.” The nurse handed me the consent form. I wrote my name, stroke by stroke, each one feeling like a cut into my own heart. Alex released Isabelle and turned to walk into the operating room. Just before the door closed, I finally couldn’t help but call out his name: “Alex!” He turned back to look at me, his eyes indifferent. My lips trembled, but in the end, I only whispered, “…Be careful.” Alex’s eyes flickered slightly, but he said nothing, turning and entering the operating room. The moment the door closed, my tears finally fell. I finally understood that Alex’s love for Isabelle was so deep that he would even sacrifice his life. The operating room light remained on, the hallway silent except for the sound of breathing. I sat on the long bench, my fingertips cold. Isabelle sat opposite me, her eyes red-rimmed, occasionally looking up at the operating room. Finally, Isabelle spoke softly. “Miss Miller, I’m so sorry, I’ve caused you trouble again.” I looked up at her but said nothing. Isabelle wiped away her tears, her voice choked. “I really didn’t expect… after all these years, Alex would still love me so deeply.” She paused, as if lost in memory. “Do you know? Last year, on my birthday, he specially flew to Paris just to get me a necklace… it was a style I’d mentioned casually liking before, and he actually remembered it. But I was still angry with him and just threw the necklace back at him, not even letting him in the door.” My fingers tightened sharply, my nails digging deep into my palms. I remembered clearly. Last year, Alex told me he was going on a three-day business trip abroad. When he returned, he brought a necklace and casually gave it to me. I was overjoyed, treasuring that necklace in the bottom of my jewelry box, unwilling to even wear it. But it turned out… it was just something he casually gave to me after Isabelle rejected it. Isabelle continued, “And the Christmas before last, my then-boyfriend and I had a huge fight, and I posted something really negative on Ins. Alex saw it and flew over that very night, standing outside my apartment building all night. It was snowing heavily that day, and he just stood there, never daring to knock on my door.” My heart clenched painfully. I remembered that Christmas Eve. Alex had been unusually passionate, making love to me seven times. I thought he was finally starting to feel something for me. When I woke up the next morning, his side of the bed was already cold. I just assumed he had left for urgent business. It turned out… he was rushing to see Isabelle. “These past three years…” Isabelle’s tears fell again. “I’ve been holding a grudge against him, deliberately not contacting him. But Alex never forgot me for a single day. He would write me a letter every day, even though I never replied.” I suddenly found it hard to breathe. How many late nights had I seen the light on in his study, thinking he was working on company documents, and even specially made him coffee? It turned out… he was writing love letters to Isabelle. I had always thought that, at least during Isabelle’s absence, Alex genuinely wanted to live a life with me. Now I realized that from beginning to end, it was all just my own foolish fantasy. The heart I thought I had finally warmed was actually filled with thoughts of someone else. Seeing Isabelle about to continue, I abruptly stood up. My face was pale, almost translucent, but my voice was desperately calm. “I have something to do, I’m leaving.” Without waiting for Isabelle’s response, I turned and walked away quickly, my steps growing faster and faster until I was practically fleeing. Returning home, I silently packed all my luggage, just waiting for the day the divorce agreement expired. During this time, I saw updates on Alex from Isabelle’s Ins posts every day— His surgery was successful, but he didn’t rest for a moment, immediately arranging the best hospital room for Isabelle’s mother, bringing in a top medical team from abroad, and even personally overseeing every treatment plan. Isabelle’s latest post was a photo. Alex sat by the hospital bed, receiving an IV drip, while attentively peeling a pomegranate for her. Her caption read: [I’ll never find anyone who loves me like this again.] My heart ached fiercely, tears falling onto my phone screen, blurring Alex’s gentle profile in the photo. I remembered how, all these years, I had taken care of him with the same dedication. He had a sensitive stomach, so I made him stomach-friendly oatmeal every day. He was busy with work, so I always kept a light on, waiting for him to come home. The fruit I placed in his hand was always peeled, deseeded, and cut into perfect bite-sized pieces… But now, he was doing all this for someone else. I took a deep breath, wiped away my tears, and told myself, It’s okay. After I stop loving him, I’ll love myself properly. A week later, Alex suddenly returned home. I was surprised. By all accounts, he should have been inseparable from Isabelle. “Family dinner tonight. Change your clothes,” he said curtly. I understood, and silently changed into a suitable dress, then left with him. At the family dinner, everyone toasted and exchanged pleasantries. Gradually, the conversation turned to Alex and me. “You two have been married for three years now; it’s time for a child.” “Indeed, Alex is the head of the family now. There must be an heir.” “Chloe, you need to get on it…” I lowered my eyes, listening in silence, my fingers unconsciously tracing the rim of my glass. Just then, Alex, who had been silent, suddenly spoke. “No rush.” His voice wasn’t loud, but the entire dining room instantly fell silent. Everyone’s expression changed, but given Alex’s current status as head of the family, no one dared to say more. The atmosphere instantly froze. The dinner eventually ended in awkward silence. After dinner, Eleanor Thorne stood up, her gaze sharply fixed on me. “Chloe, come with me to the study.” Anyone with eyes could see this was about lecturing me on having children. Alex clearly saw it too, frowning. “If you have something to say, say it directly to me.” Eleanor was about to speak, but Alex’s phone suddenly rang. He glanced at the caller ID, his expression subtly shifting. He immediately walked aside to answer, his tone unusually gentle. “Isabelle? What’s wrong?” Eleanor snorted coldly, addressing me directly. “Come with me.” I pursed my lips, silently following her. As soon as the study door closed, Eleanor’s face instantly darkened. “Kneel.” I slowly knelt on the cold marble floor. “Do you know what you did wrong?” Eleanor looked down at me. I lowered my eyelashes, remaining silent. “Whack!” Eleanor slammed her hand on the table. “Your mistake is not advising Alex when he said he wasn’t in a rush for a child!” She took a porcelain bottle from a drawer and placed it heavily on the table. “This is a fertility tonic. From today, you will drink it every day. You must sleep with Alex until you become pregnant.” If this were before, I would have obediently taken it. But this time, I looked up, my voice soft yet firm. “I won’t take this medicine.” Eleanor’s pupils constricted. “What did you say?” “I won’t take this medicine. Alex temporarily doesn’t want children, and I respect his decision.” Every time we’d been intimate these past few years, Alex always took precautions. Even if he occasionally lost control in passion, he would immediately watch me take birth control afterward. I had naively thought he simply didn’t want children yet. Now I understood that he had never intended to have children with me. Now that I had decided to leave, I certainly wouldn’t let myself get pregnant with his child, only to create more ties. “What did you say?” Eleanor’s voice suddenly rose. “I won’t take it,” I repeated. “You’ve gone too far!” Eleanor trembled with rage. “As a daughter-in-law, you’re not fulfilling your duties! Alex donated bone marrow to that Isabelle Dubois’s mother, and you didn’t stop him!” She snapped, “Bring the family cane!” Soon, a maid brought the family cane—a rattan cane soaked in saltwater. Eleanor stood, whip in hand, and sharply demanded, “I’ll ask one last time: will you take this medicine or not?” I shook my head. “Whack!” The first lash came down. A searing pain instantly spread from my back to every limb. I gritted my teeth, cold sweat immediately soaking my back. “Will you take it or not?” I continued to grit my teeth and shake my head. The whip fell again and again. Through the floor-to-ceiling window, I saw Alex in the garden, still on the phone. His back was to the study, his posture relaxed, occasionally chuckling, clearly enjoying his conversation with Isabelle. “If that’s how it is, I’ll beat you until you understand what it means to be a proper Thorne wife!” The whip tore through my clothes, leaving streaks of blood on my skin. I trembled with pain, but I refused to give in. “I won’t take it…” Blood soaked my clothes, and my vision began to blur. The last thing I saw was Alex’s back, still on the phone. Before darkness swallowed my consciousness, I thought, this is good. After this last pain, I will never hurt for him again. I woke up to find myself in a hospital bed. The dean’s respectful voice reached my ears. “Mr. Thorne, Mrs. Thorne’s whip wounds are very deep. Some areas have reached the dermis…” “Use the best medicine, send the best doctors,” Alex’s voice was low and cold. “Don’t let her have any scars.” “Yes, we will do our utmost.” After the dean left, Alex turned and realized I was awake. He walked quickly to the bedside, his brows slightly furrowed. “How are you feeling?” I tried to move; the wound on my back burned. I forced myself to say, “I’m fine. I have professional care here. If you have something to do, please go.” Unexpectedly, Alex didn’t leave. He sat by the bed, looking at me with a complex gaze. “My mother put you through that. Why didn’t you call me?” I remembered his focused back while talking to Isabelle, and gave a bitter smile. “You seemed very busy.” I paused, then asked softly, “If I had called you, would you really have come immediately?” “Of course,” Alex answered without hesitation. I was stunned. This answer was completely different from what I had expected. “I’ve already dealt with the family,” he continued. “No one will bother you about children anymore.” “Understood.” I lowered my eyes. “You should go.” “Why are you always rushing me away?” Alex asked, frowning. I was a little taken aback. “Aren’t you… very busy?” Busy with company affairs, busy accompanying Isabelle. “Not busy recently.” He reached out and tucked in my blanket. “I can take care of you these next few days.” This was completely unexpected. For the next few days, Alex actually stayed in the hospital to care for me. He adjusted my bed, fed me, and even personally changed my dressing. One night, I couldn’t sleep from the pain. Alex sat by my bed, gently patting my back like he was comforting a child, until I fell into a deep sleep. This tenderness made me feel a flicker of our most intimate moments. But I wouldn’t get lost in it again. I had decided to leave and wouldn’t look back. A week later, the whip marks on my back had faded considerably. That day, as Alex applied my ointment, I accidentally let out a soft groan. His movements suddenly stopped. I turned back in confusion, only to see his eyes darkened, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and below… My expression subtly changed. Alex was already slowly moving closer, his breathing growing heavier. Just as his lips were about to touch mine— “Whack!” A crisp sound shattered the intimacy in the hospital room. Both of us turned at the same time to see Isabelle standing at the doorway, the fruit basket she had been holding now crashed to the floor, fruit scattering everywhere. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her voice trembling. “Did… did I interrupt something?” Alex abruptly shoved me away. “Isabelle, it’s not what you think.” His movement was so sudden, I was unprepared and fell backward, tumbling off the hospital bed. With a dull thud, the back of my head slammed hard against the sharp edge of the nightstand, and blood immediately gushed. “I won’t disturb you anymore…” Isabelle cried and turned to run. “Isabelle!” Alex didn’t even spare a glance for me, lying on the floor. He chased after her without hesitation. I lay on the ground, blood blurring my vision. I suddenly laughed, tears streaming down my face.
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