A Billion Dollars for Our Eight Years

Ultimately, I still couldn't hold it back and stopped at the entrance of the wedding hall.

Inside, Ingrid Steele, my wife of eight years, was having a grand wedding with another man. Meanwhile, I, her legally wedded husband, could only slink away into the shadows after giving her my best wishes.

I waited at the entrance for a long time. However, Ingrid never chased after me as I expected. She didn't even call me or bother to explain herself.

I felt like an abandoned dog that was wandering aimlessly on the streets.

I didn't dare to go home. I didn't want to, either. I was afraid of seeing both her and her new "husband", Hank Conley, there together. I was even more afraid that she wouldn't even bother coming back at all.

It wasn't until late at night that Ingrid finally began blowing up my phone. I declined the call at least a dozen times before finally answering.

"What the hell are you playing at, Jordan Newman? It's the middle of the night. Why aren't you home yet? You'd better get home in ten minutes, or I'm going to kick your ass!"

She then hung up abruptly, and I stood there in silence for a long while.

She had just married someone else earlier today, and yet, now she was questioning me for not going home at night.

Really, Ingrid Steele? Where did she even get the nerve to say such things to me?

Just because I loved her didn't mean that she could walk all over me like this.

I kept telling myself that I was going to divorce her, but somehow, I still found my legs carrying me all the way back home.

When I saw Ingrid again, she was still grinning stupidly from post-wedding bliss. I had never seen that smile on her face before.

In fact, she only ever fought and argued with me, yelled at me, and got furious at me for nothing. Technically speaking, she was always the one taking out her frustrations on me in the past.

"It was just a fake wedding!" she yelled. "I was just fulfilling Hank's wishes! It's not like I'm going to divorce you anyway. Why are you making such a big deal out of it? Since when did you get so selfish and petty?"

She continued, still yelling, "Hank is nothing like you! He would never risk my mom's life to force me to marry him like you!"

I listened to her increasingly outrageous statements and gaped, unable to say a single word.

I was actually kind of looking forward to seeing her reaction if I told her that I'd just won the billion-dollar lottery. But now that things had come to this point, there was no way that I was going to tell her.

I would make her regret everything and pay the price instead.

Back in my sophomore year of college, before my family went bankrupt, I used to be a flashy rich kid. I'd fallen in love with Ingrid at first sight, spending lavishly on giving her surprises and also made a big show of pursuing her.

Yet, she rejected me every time, saying that she was only in love with Hank.

Hank was among the top students in college. He was gentle and refined, handsome and talented, and exactly her type. However, I knew that he secretly spent his time partying with other rich young women and heiresses, and that Ingrid was only one of his backup side pieces.

I'd even told Ingrid the truth about Hank before, but she didn't believe me and demanded that I apologize to him at once.

After that, she became even more distant and ignored all of my attempts to win her over.

On our graduation day, however, Ingrid's mom was heavily injured in a horrible car crash.

Ingrid called every relative, pleading and begging tearfully with them to lend her enough cash for her mom's emergency surgery, but she couldn't manage to get a single penny.