My husband, Dennis Blackwood, had a virginity complex. When he sent his new lover to me for reconstructive surgery, the woman gloated: “I heard you two have been married for five years, and he hasn’t even touched you? We only met ten days ago, and he has sex with me three times every night. He practically dies of pleasure in my arms!” I didn’t react. I just went through the motions, asking about her medical history. Throughout, I calmly listened to her describe how many positions she’d tried. She didn’t know that before her, I had performed ninety-nine surgeries for Dennis Blackwood’s lovers. I had been enraged once, crying and screaming at Dennis, completely losing my composure. All I got in return was Dennis’s contemptuous smirk: “Just relax and enjoy being a trophy wife. When I’m done playing around, I’ll naturally come home.” As the girl was wheeled into the operating room, Dennis stopped me. “While you’re at it, give her a vaginal cosmetic surgery too. She’s really into looking good.” Seeing my silence, the man chuckled and tucked a credit card into my hand. “Your payment.” I smiled back, carefully putting the card away. He’d forgotten. The time stipulated in our pre-nuptial agreement had arrived.
After the surgery, I dialed a number I hadn’t called in ages. “Grandpa, I saw the flight information. Thank you.” “Aria, I’m so glad you’re coming home.” I hung up. Dennis, I didn’t know when, was standing behind me. “Who were you talking to?” I put my phone away, lowering my gaze, and brushed him off casually. “A sales call.” Dennis was already looking down at his phone, muttering an indifferent “Oh,” clearly not caring. Then he held his phone out to me. “What do you think of this bracelet?” It was a bracelet I had marked in a fashion magazine once. I was genuinely touched that Dennis had remembered. Then I heard him chuckle. “Willow would probably love it, wouldn’t she?” I froze, then nodded. “It’s beautiful. She’ll love it.” Perhaps it was my unusual calm this time, but Dennis surprisingly offered to drive me home. “Before Willow wakes up, I’ll take you home first.” In five years of marriage, this was the first time I’d ridden in his car, other than our wedding day. I reached out to adjust the passenger seat, but Dennis stopped my hand. “Aria , you should sit in the back.” “That girl Willow has a fierce temper. If she found out someone sat in her spot, she’d throw a fit with me.” He spoke with a doting smile plastered across his face. I paused for a moment, then moved efficiently to the back. A small pink blanket was casually tossed on the black seat, somewhat clashing with his usual demeanor. It still carried Willow White’s scent. Dennis saw my gaze in the rearview mirror and chuckled. “She’s young, she likes all things pink and soft.” I lowered my eyes, remembering that I was the same age when I married him. On our wedding night, he saw my pink nightgown and smiled nonchalantly. “Aria , I don’t like pink.” “And you’re not my type. Not touching you is my way of being responsible.” When he handed me the pre-nuptial agreement, he was still gentle. “Sign it. It’s just a business arrangement. In five years, we’ll both be free to marry whoever we want.” “But don’t worry, I’ll ensure you have all the respect due to Mrs. Blackwood.” In that moment, ten years of a young girl’s secret crush crumbled. Along with all my hopes for marriage and every fantasy of our wedding night, they shattered completely. I never wore pink again. I moved my gaze from the blanket and couldn’t help but sneeze. Dennis almost instinctively handed me a tissue, his voice as gentle as ever. “I’ll turn up the AC.” That’s when I noticed the tissue box was Disney-themed. Even with five years of a sexless marriage, Dennis and I had shared some calm, warm moments as a couple. In the beginning, I was young, and Dennis was willing to indulge me in everything. The only thing he refused was going to Disneyland with me. No matter how much I pleaded or coaxed, he wouldn’t budge. He just said he was afraid of being laughed at by business partners. It turned out he *could* break his principles. It just wasn’t for me. When we got home, Dennis walked straight to the kit . I was a bit surprised, and after a moment of hesitation, I spoke up. “What do you want to eat? I’ll cook.” Dennis shook his head, staring at a tutorial on his phone. “No need, I promised Willow I’d personally make her chicken soup.” I froze. Dennis Blackwood, the CEO who never cooked and was a germaphobe, was now personally cooking for Willow White. For some reason, my eyes welled up. I remembered once having a high fever and begging Dennis to get me a glass of water. He frowned abruptly. “I don’t like the smell of cooking oil. Wait here, I’ll call the housekeeper to get it for you.” He forgot afterward, and by the time the housekeeper found me, I was dangerously close to brain damage from the fever. Watching him busy himself, a smile playing on his lips, I couldn’t bear to look anymore and turned to go upstairs. I packed my luggage and fell into a deep sleep, only to be shaken awake in the middle of the night.
Dennis Blackwood, looking disheveled, woke me up. “Aria , I can’t do this. You have to teach me.” He pulled me downstairs, and seeing the several ruined pots of chicken soup, my already numb heart throbbed with a fine ache. Dennis wasn’t a patient man. Once, when he accompanied me to try on wedding dresses, he was already impatient by the second dress, making an excuse about work and leaving. Now, for Willow White, he’d ruined several pots of chicken soup and still hadn’t given up. I skillfully prepared the ingredients, turned on the stove, and started making the soup. Dennis cautiously watched the flame. This was, surprisingly, a long-lost moment of quiet intimacy between us. After pouring the chicken soup into a thermos, Dennis placed a kiss on my forehead. “Aria , thank goodness for you.” With that, he rushed out. He was worried about Willow White in the hospital, but he ignored my burned fingers. After I treated my burn, Willow White updated her Ins. “My dearest husband’s chicken soup for me.” Dennis, who never posted on Ins, surprisingly responded in the comments with a kissing emoji. My finger hovered over the screen for a few seconds, but I didn’t ‘like’ it. When I exited, a message popped up on my phone. “Hubby, where do you want to do it next time?” It was immediately recalled, and then Willow White’s voice message came through. “Oh, oops, sorry, sis! I meant to send that to Dennis, but I sent it to you by mistake. You didn’t see it, did you?” Before I could reply, she continued. “Your profile pictures are so similar, I get them mixed up. I’ll ask him to change his, so I don’t send anything wrong next time.” I didn’t reply. I also didn’t think Dennis would change his profile picture. That photo was taken by his late mother. I had once playfully insisted on using matching couple avatars with him, but he had sternly refused. He even scolded me for being childish. In a fit of pique, I found a profile picture that looked similar to his, treating it as our couple avatar. He never brought it up, so I assumed he agreed. But when I refreshed my phone again, I saw that Dennis Blackwood’s profile picture had changed to a cartoon one, matching Willow White’s. My fingers trembled slightly as I refreshed and reconfirmed repeatedly. Then I chuckled self-deprecatingly. Five years couldn’t compare to ten days. Fireworks erupted not far from the city center. Willow White updated her Ins again. She was in Dennis Blackwood’s arms, standing on a rooftop, with dazzling fireworks illuminating the sky behind them. “Happy ten days.” I froze, instinctively rubbing the numbers tattooed on my wrist. It was the same day. Today was my fifth wedding anniversary with Dennis Blackwood. Dennis’s first mistress was a rebellious teenager covered in tattoos. For the first time, I completely lost my composure, throwing a tantrum and crying in front of Dennis, begging him to send her away. He just quietly watched me act crazy, then gently promised it was just an act, that my position wasn’t threatened. But he would still disappear from my side in the middle of the night to be with other women. I learned from that girl and got our wedding anniversary tattooed on my hand, morbidly hoping he would love me. He only snickered when he saw it. “Aria , wash it off. It’s ugly.” I fell asleep amidst the memories, plagued by nightmares. Finally, I was woken by a frantic phone call. It wasn’t fully light yet. The Chief of Staff’s voice was urgent on the phone. “Aria , was it you who performed Willow White’s hymen repair surgery?” “Something’s happened. Get to the hospital quickly.”
By the time I rushed to the hospital, all I could hear were Willow White’s screams. When she saw me, she pointed at me, her emotions high, and cursed. “Did you hurt me?” “You’re jealous! You’re jealous Dennis would rather touch me than you, so you deliberately messed me up down there!” As she spoke, she clung to Dennis Blackwood’s arm, crying, her face covered in tears. “Dennis, I’m bleeding so much, it hurts!” Dennis looked at me, his face grim. “Aria , apologize to Willow.” I picked up the instruments, met his gaze, and calmly said: “Before we determine if it was my fault, shouldn’t I examine her first?” But Willow White abruptly recoiled. “No, I don’t want this bad person to examine me!” “I’m scared I won’t be able to be with Dennis anymore.” Dennis pulled her into his embrace, gently comforting her. The Chief of Staff had no choice but to call another doctor, my colleague Dr. Aaron Price, who had always disliked me. Half an hour after the examination. He pulled out a blood-stained piece of gauze, about the size of a fingernail. Dennis Blackwood looked at me, his brows furrowed. “Was that intentional?” I looked at Dr. Aaron Price in disbelief. “How could it be? I’ve never made a mistake with such a minor procedure.” Dr. Aaron Price shrugged innocently. “But we can’t guarantee that Chief didn’t have a personal vendetta, can we?” He looked at Dennis Blackwood. “After all, the patient and your relationship aren’t exactly harmonious.” Soon, I was formally reprimanded by the entire hospital and dismissed from my position. I knew Dennis Blackwood was behind it; he wanted to get revenge for Willow White. When I was escorted out of the hospital, everyone looked at me with disdain. Someone had posted a video online of Willow White cursing at me, and suddenly my former patients found me. One slapped me several times across the face. “Bitch! No wonder my boyfriend found out after my surgery! Turns out your skills aren’t up to par!” I was being beaten by a crowd. Dennis Blackwood passed by with Willow White, but he covered her eyes. “Don’t look, it’s bad luck.” He merely gave a chilling command to his bodyguards. “Bring her over later.” My face was bruised, and I was doused in urine. The bodyguards dragged me, disheveled, into Willow White’s hospital room. Dennis Blackwood was coaxing Willow White to drink water. “Good girl, I’ve already cooled it down for you. Drink up.” My tears flowed uncontrollably. This scene was something I had yearned for five years but never received. Willow White had easily obtained it in just ten days. Seeing me, Willow White became agitated, clinging to Dennis Blackwood’s waist. “Dennis, what’s she doing here? Is she going to hurt me again?” “My wound still hurts so much, Dennis, I’m scared!” Dennis Blackwood gently patted her back, his eyes dark and menacing as he looked at me. “Aria , I told you, as long as you didn’t cause trouble, I’d be happy for you to remain Mrs. Blackwood. “But you’ve been very naughty.” “Willow is different from those other women. If you touch her, you provoke me.” He looked at Willow White, his voice gentle. “Don’t be scared, Willow. I brought her here so you can get your revenge.” A flicker of triumph crossed Willow White’s eyes, but she spoke timidly. “Really? Can I take my anger out however I want?” “She’s your wife. Can you really bear to do it?” Dennis Blackwood smiled and kissed Willow White’s lips. “No one is more important than you.” Willow White looked at me provocatively. “Then I want her to suffer the same pain I did!” Dennis Blackwood almost blurted out his agreement: “You can.” Then he casually instructed a bodyguard, “Arrange for a doctor.” I looked at the heartless man before me in disbelief. “Dennis Blackwood, I am your wife!” I struggled fiercely but was held down firmly on the floor. Dennis Blackwood’s voice floated over, light as a feather. “Aria , when you do something wrong, you must be punished, don’t you agree?” I was dragged into the operating room. After an examination, my colleague found Dennis Blackwood, his face troubled. “Mr. Blackwood, your wife… she’s never had sex.”
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