Five years into our marriage, I discovered a hickey on Adrian’s neck – one that didn’t come from me. When I confronted him about it, he just laughed it off. “You could try it too, you know. I wouldn’t mind. But do you have the guts?” He knew all too well about my feelings for him – how I’d secretly loved him for years before we got together. And he took full advantage of that knowledge, confident I would never leave. He assumed, quite arrogantly, that I would forgive him yet again, tears and all. What Adrian didn’t know was that his best friend had been sending me shirtless photos every day. Later, when my body bore marks that weren’t from my husband, Adrian demanded answers. I simply smiled and said, “Didn’t you tell me to try it? Well, he’s got a lot more stamina than you do.” Adrian flew into a rage, his eyes rimmed red. “Who gave you permission to take me seriously?!” “Stop hiding and look at me!” Adrian’s voice was cold and hoarse, barely containing his anger. Blue veins bulged on his forehead as he forcibly gripped my chin, making me face him. I couldn’t move, trapped in his icy gaze. Adrian smiled with satisfaction. “Eight calls a day, even dragging my mother into this… Chloe, you went to all this trouble just to get me to come home. Why act like this now?” I pushed against him as hard as I could. “Is being full of yourself the only thing you’re good at?” He still couldn’t believe that I was utterly disappointed in him. Gripping my chin tighter, he sneered, “For years, you’ve always had endless excuses to get my attention. It’s annoying…” I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face. As he turned away, my palm stung and trembled. Never had I regretted anything more than I did at that moment. I regretted falling in love with Adrian. I regretted marrying him. But Adrian hadn’t always been like this. In the beginning, things were different. Somewhere along the way, everything changed. A shrill ringtone broke the tense silence. Adrian answered the phone, his face still cold but his tone suddenly gentle. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll have Kevin take you to the hospital. I’ll be there soon.” A woman’s voice on the other end sobbed that she was scared. After hanging up, Adrian got up without hesitation. But instead of leaving right away, he roughly pulled me up from the bed and held me tightly against him. Out of nowhere, he said, “Chloe, if you beg me to stay, I will.” He seemed to have forgotten that I had begged him before. The first time he left me alone for that female secretary of his. I had pleaded with him not to go: “Adrian, my stomach hurts so much…” But he had walked out expressionlessly, that woman in his arms. That time, I lost my first child. I looked at him, my wet hair clinging to my cheeks. Weakly, I patted his face and asked with a bitter smile, “Beg you? Are you even worth begging?” Adrian’s expression darkened. He sneered, “Fine then. Get lost.” Despite his words, his hand gripped my waist like an iron vise. I lowered my head and pried his fingers off one by one. The phone rang again. This time he put it on speaker. “Adrian, are you almost here? I’m alone at the hospital and I’m scared…” He stood up, looking down at me with cold eyes as he replied, “Be good, wait for me. I’ll be right there.”
After Adrian left, I heard the sound of tires screeching from the underground garage. The car sped away, betraying the driver’s urgency. Less than 30 minutes later, Amber’s Instagram was updated right on schedule. The photo showed a private hospital. In the background, a man’s half-visible body could be seen. His hand, adorned with a diamond ring, gently touched her forehead. Amber smiled with closed eyes, tilting her head up to meet him. If there was anything different about Amber compared to Adrian’s previous women, it was that she truly was special to him. She was his first love, once cherished deeply before leaving for another country. Today marked exactly three months since her return. During these three months, Adrian spent all his time either working or with Amber. That’s why Adrian’s mother had been insisting I keep calling to urge him to come home. Amber had debuted as an idol overseas for the past few years. Now back in the States, she found the idol path difficult and switched to acting instead, becoming a C-list actress. Since her return, Adrian had been showering her with resources, as if to make up for lost time. He gave her whatever he could directly, and for what was out of reach, he wasn’t above lowering himself to schmooze with others on her behalf. In just three short months, Amber’s popularity skyrocketed and her fanbase grew exponentially. This was compounded by her daily “rekindled love” diary updates on Instagram for the past three months. Out of boredom, I took a peek at her posts. In Amber’s narrative, she and Adrian were childhood sweethearts separated by a misunderstanding. When they reunited, he was a handsome, wealthy CEO and she was a cool, stubborn starlet. Fans were eating it up. Looking back on these five years now, I could only laugh at my own naivety back then. If someone doesn’t love you, time only becomes a knife, leaving you scarred and bitter in the end. I lit a cigarette and glanced back at the messy bed sheets. If Adrian had been more attentive, or if he still cared about me even a little, he should have noticed that my belongings in this house had dwindled to almost nothing. When I first married Adrian, I was truly happy, feeling blessed by fate. When we moved into this house, I would smile from ear to ear just seeing our suits and dresses hanging side by side in the closet. But now the vanity was empty, and the huge closet only held his suits and shirts. The dresses that once hung next to his clothes had vanished without a trace. The phone on the nightstand rang. I ignored it, but it rang again. By the fifth persistent call, I finally answered. It was Amber’s voice, taunting me sweetly: “Mrs. Walker, don’t say I’m bullying you. I gave you five whole years. It’s not my fault you weren’t good enough to keep him.” I replied flatly, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll expose you as the other woman to the media?” She suddenly raised her voice shrilly: “I’m not the other woman! If you hadn’t taken advantage of my absence when I went abroad, you never would have married Adrian. If you didn’t look a bit like me, he wouldn’t have given you a second glance!” I couldn’t be bothered to argue with her. “Fine, you’re so capable. Then please convince Adrian to agree to divorce me. I sincerely wish you both the best – a scumbag and a homewrecker, perfect for each other.” Amber was speechless for a moment before angrily hanging up. She knew that I had asked Adrian for a divorce two weeks ago. At the time, she had even rushed over to celebrate in front of me. “Smart of you to know when to give up. First love is something that can never be erased unless you’re dead. So you proposing divorce is the wisest move,” she had gloated, wearing the designer outfit Adrian had specially ordered from Milan for her. Who knew that the next second, Adrian would suddenly appear, glaring at me with eyes like a venomous snake. He grabbed Amber by the hair and said coldly, “Who the fuck told you I’m getting divorced? Get out!” I remember vividly how Amber had run out crying that day.
After hanging up, my phone lit up with several notifications. I dealt with some work messages and exited the app, when suddenly I noticed a red dot on a muted conversation. For some reason, I tapped on it. The contact had no name, just the character “Yi” as the username and a faded mountain-top photo as the profile picture. If I remembered correctly, this was Lucas, Adrian’s current best friend. I heard they met at a cocktail party and somehow became as close as brothers. Compared to Adrian’s business background, Lucas’s background was heavily guarded, layers upon layers of protection. Even Adrian only knew the general outline. Yet this man had sent me a selfie. Black bangs partially covered his deep-set eyes, a child’s fever patch stuck to his forehead. His thin jacket was unzipped halfway, revealing hints of abs. He looked damp all over. The message below read: [Sis-in-law, I think I have a fever. I feel awful /(ㄒoㄒ)/~~] I zoomed in on his abs, then scrolled through his previous messages. Although I had never replied, he seemed to have made it a daily routine to send one message and one photo every day. If it wasn’t his long, slender fingers, it was his well-defined abs. It was as if he was persistently and shamelessly trying to steal me away from my husband. Coincidentally, the first time he sent me these messages was the day Adrian was caught cheating with his secretary. I returned to the chat and casually typed a reply. [Nice abs.] As if holding my breath, I sent it without a second glance and immediately exited the app. Early the next morning, Adrian’s mother was sitting on the downstairs sofa, her expression unreadable. Seeing me come down, she asked coldly, “Where’s Adrian? Gone to that hussy again?” I nodded calmly, taking breakfast out of the fridge. I even politely offered, “Mom, would you like some?” She looked startled, seemingly surprised by my attitude. After all, in the past, I had desperately tried to please her for Adrian’s sake. When she said she didn’t like Walkers’ daughters-in-law to be in the public eye, that marrying Adrian meant being a proper housewife, I even gave up my beloved dance career. “Are you useless?” Her face darkened with anger. “Five years and you can’t even keep a man’s heart. If Adrian wants to divorce you someday, don’t expect me to help you!” I suddenly put down my fork and looked at her with a mirthless smile. “You couldn’t keep Mr. Walker’s heart for thirty years either, could you? If there’s anyone to blame, it’s the Walker family’s inferior cheating genes, passed down from generation to generation.” The elegant lady stood up like a fury: “You! You’ve gone too far! I’ll tell Adrian to throw you out! I want you two divorced!” I looked at her and quickly said, “I’m sorry.” I had lost my temper for a moment. No matter what, I shouldn’t have provoked her with this. Years ago, when she was pregnant with their second child, Mr. Walker was caught in bed cheating. The other woman was Amber’s mother. Adrian’s mother and Amber’s mother had been best friends. After Amber’s father died, she took pity on the mother and daughter, even buying them a house in the same neighborhood. Who would have thought that Amber’s mother and Mr. Walker would have an affair behind her back, sneaking around for five years? When she found out, the shock and anger caused her to miscarry. The scandal blew up, and Amber’s mother was sent to the countryside by Mr. Walker, but the car overturned on the way. At the time, Adrian and Amber were already an acknowledged couple, but Adrian’s mother could never accept the daughter of her husband’s mistress as a daughter-in-law. So Amber was forcibly sent abroad. This incident was the greatest pain of her life. I really shouldn’t have used it to attack her. Hearing my apology, she sat back down. After a while, she got up to leave. Before going, she threw out one last sentence: “Your father is still in the hospital. You should know what to do!” My father? She didn’t know that the doctor had already called me, saying my father only had a few days left.
Five years ago, when my father was driven to desperation by bankruptcy, he jumped from the roof of our apartment building. Fortunately, he was caught by some trees and survived, but he’s been kept alive only by expensive machines and medications ever since. All these years, the money has been paid monthly by Adrian’s mother according to our original agreement. That evening, my phone rang. It was my best friend Rachel’s voice: “Chloe, DM Club, come save me quick!” She hung up immediately. Worried something had happened to her, I rushed to DM. But when I arrived, I found her excitedly playing drinking games with a group of male models. Seeing me, she blinked innocently: “It wasn’t me who called you…” “Then who did?” I asked, confused. “I did.” A deep voice sounded behind me, tinged with nervousness. I turned around and came face to face with the abs guy from the phone. Lucas wore a black jacket. At 6’3″, he cut an impressive figure standing there. Before I could speak, Rachel eagerly pointed at him: “Girl, this model won’t even let me touch him. Says he’s exclusively for one person. Hey, you try him out for me! Your scumbag husband has cheated how many times now? Why are you still holding back? Go for it!” “He’s not a model…” I kindly reminded her. “Don’t spread rumors outside.” After we left, Lucas followed closely behind me. He was indeed handsome – calling him a model would be an understatement. There weren’t many in Hollywood who looked this good. Back when things were occasionally still okay between Adrian and me, he often praised this good friend of his. Sometimes even Adrian wondered how he had the fortune to befriend someone of Lucas’s background and status. I felt a headache coming on. I shouldn’t have impulsively replied to that message. “This is…” I stumbled over my words, awkwardly saying, “This isn’t right. You know this makes you the other woman, right?” Lucas coughed lightly, standing just an arm’s length away. Gone was his online flirtatiousness, but he was still direct: “So, does this mean I’m officially acknowledged now?” “But I haven’t actually done anything yet, have I?” he reasoned shamelessly. “I accept criticism and correction, but I’m still firm in my goal!” “What goal?” “To steal you away!” “He’s supposed to be your best friend. Aren’t you afraid he’ll beat you up?” “What kind of good person is he anyway? At worst, I’m just seducing a married woman, a bit morally bankrupt. But what he’s done is truly despicable… Ahem, of course, I’m not badmouthing your husband.” Maybe it was the dim lighting, the temptation of his good looks. Maybe it was the exhaustion and torment from these years with Adrian. I stared at him intently and suddenly said, “Wait a little longer. While I’m still married, I won’t do anything immoral.” At least on the surface, I was still Adrian’s wife. Lucas’s eyes lit up: “When do you plan to… get divorced?” “Soon,” I smiled.
When Adrian came home, I was feeding the cat. I looked up – it was already dusk outside. He took off his coat and crouched down, reaching out to pet the cat just like he had done many times before. Fluffy turned her head away, hissing angrily at him, refusing to let him touch her. Cats are more sensitive than humans. She could smell that Adrian had been petting another cat. Amber’s Instagram often featured photos of a white ragdoll cat. An unfamiliar perfume wafted into my nose. I wrinkled my brow. Turning my head, I saw Adrian’s shirt collar open, revealing a dark hickey on his pale collarbone. It looked like someone had deliberately marked their territory. Adrian followed my gaze, lowered his eyes, and smiled arrogantly, as if trying to fool an idiot: “Tch, the cat scratched me.” I felt neither sadness nor joy. I just lowered my head to pour water into the cat’s bowl. “When can we sign the divorce papers?” “In such a hurry?” Adrian leaned close, his lips brushing my ear. I recoiled in disgust. He laughed: “You care that much about me? Trying to test me with divorce talk over and over? Don’t worry, there’s only one Mrs. Walker, and no one can take that from you.” I looked up at him, my gaze utterly calm. If only he knew… Never mind. Adrian’s body stiffened for a moment before his face turned cold: “Is this too much for you already? When you and my mother schemed against me back then, didn’t you anticipate this day would come?” I said quietly, “I regret it. I shouldn’t have walked into that room back then. I shouldn’t have married you.” Adrian suddenly kicked the table, sending it flying. He grabbed my chin roughly: “Regret? What right do you have to regret? Did I give you permission to regret?” I no longer had the energy or desire to argue with him. In the past, when he was angry, I would think of all sorts of ways to cheer him up, not bearing to see even a frown on his face. But now, the closer he got to the edge of rage, the more annoyed I felt. I could refute him with countless words, but on this matter, I could only remain silent whenever he brought it up. I just said softly, “Since what we had was wrong from the start, and things have come to this point, divorce is the only way out.” Adrian didn’t respond immediately. He sat on the sofa with his legs crossed, eyes lowered as he lit a cigarette. Then, from a distance, he slowly blew a puff of smoke in my direction. The smoke momentarily blurred his chiseled features. He tapped his forehead with his finger, then pointed at the hickey on his collarbone, curling his lips: “Is it because of this?” “Actually, if you like, you could try it too.” He shrugged carelessly. “I don’t mind. But Chloe, do you have the guts?” I looked into Adrian’s eyes – those upturned phoenix eyes that seemed alluring whether he smiled or not. I used to love those eyes. I had thought that even if he didn’t love me, he would at least have some respect for me. The first time he crossed the line, I nearly went insane. Back then, I hadn’t loved him to the point of exhaustion, and I still held some hope for Adrian and our future. I couldn’t accept betrayal. I made a scene until everyone knew, until I lost a child, in exchange for his promise that it wouldn’t happen again. I was willing to take another gamble, only to lose even more thoroughly in the end. In Adrian’s eyes, I didn’t have the guts or the heart to cheat. But cheating was never about guts – it was about self-control and moral constraints. The biggest difference between Adrian and me was that I was a person with marital morals. But even the most moral person, when pushed into a corner, can fall. Just then, my phone lit up with another message from Lucas. I opened it to look – it was a photo of abs, face not shown, looking quite tempting. Suddenly, a shadow fell over me. Adrian’s presence loomed close. Adrian… he saw the photo. I gripped my phone tightly, my heart skipping a beat. I looked up at Adrian. He gazed at me with a mocking smile, his tone sarcastic: “Looking at some risqué male model photos online? Chloe, this is about all the guts you have.”
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