Chapter 2

I was in a foreign country where I could not speak the language, and I did not have a cent to my name.

By the time I walked back to the hotel, it was already 3:00 am, and the staff stopped me in the lobby simply because I could not prove I was a guest.

Every call I made went to the same automated voice telling me the number was unavailable. Exhausted, I said, "I really am staying in Room 1809. You can call up to the room and ask."

The clerk eyed me with suspicion, dialed Room 1809, and put it on speaker.

"Hello, Ms. Bellamy. There's a gentleman in the lobby who says he's your husband."

Cyrus' cold, hoarse voice came through the line. "Husband?"

Then he raised his voice. "Adele, how many husbands do you have? The front desk is calling again because someone down there says he's your husband."

Adele took the phone and spoke flatly. "My husband has been with me the whole time. Don't put calls like this through again."

I lunged for the phone in a panic, but all I heard was the cold, unforgiving dial tone.

The clerk looked thoroughly annoyed. "Sir, you just made me offend a very important guest. Please stop interfering with our work."

They practically threw me out of the hotel.

I stood at the curb, utterly humiliated, and looked down at my feet, which were rubbed raw with bloody blisters. The pain left me too weak to keep standing, so I slowly sat down. I stayed there beside the hotel for the entire night.

Early the next morning, a kind stranger gave me a ride to the airport. At check-in, however, the agent told me, "Mr. Kenneth Linwood, your ticket from Arvenia to Marlow Bay has already been refunded. Weren't you notified?"

My head rang as if something had exploded beside my ears. Then I spotted two familiar figures not far away and rushed over. "Adele! Why did you cancel my ticket? Don't you know my visa is about to expire? If I stay any longer—"

Before I could finish, Cyrus swung his hand and struck me hard across the face.

There was a sharp crack, and the ringing in my ears blended with Cyrus' icy voice.

"Kenneth, as the homewrecker, you should know your place. What right do you have to travel with me, let alone take the same flight?"

Even Matilda screamed at the top of her lungs. "You nasty homewrecker! You're not allowed on our plane!"

Everyone around turned to stare at me. Before long, a crowd had gathered in the huge terminal to watch the spectacle.

I clenched my fists, my face ashen, yet I forced out each word. "Cyrus, I'm the one with the marriage certificate. You're the real—"

Before I could get the last word out, Adele stepped in front of me and blocked my view. She stood between Cyrus and me, staring at me coldly, her eyes full of warning.

"I've already rebooked your flight for tomorrow. Kenneth, don't push your luck. It's only one day later than planned. You should know what matters more here."

Every breath felt laced with fine needles that stung me all over.

I understood what Adele meant. If I refused tomorrow's ticket, there was no telling how much longer I would be stuck here.

I had no choice.

I squeezed my eyes shut and let out a heavy, humiliated breath. "Fine. I get it."

Adele shielded Cyrus with one arm and held Matilda with the other. Their calm, self-assured figures soon disappeared from view. Adele never once paused, and she did not even look back.

My new flight was at 8:00 am the next day.

After a grueling night at the airport, I took my passport to clear immigration, only for an officer to stop me.

"Sir, your visa expired yesterday. Please come with us and explain why you've remained in our country."

They locked me in a small, windowless holding room. It was dark and cold, with no bed, so I had to sleep on the freezing floor. There was no food either. My stomach twisted with hunger and my face went pale, yet no one cared.

I was held for three days and three nights. During that time, the officers kept trying to contact my family, but Cyrus was the one who answered every time.

From start to finish, he only ever said one thing—"I don't know him."

On the fourth day, when they finally let me out, I had lost nearly eight pounds. Sallow and gaunt, I made it home on sheer willpower.

When I reached the front door of our house, however, the security system no longer recognized my face. Red warning text flashed across the screen.

[Facial recognition failed. Intruder detected!]

All the grievance and rage of the past few days finally erupted. Like a madman, I pounded and kicked the door with everything I had, until it swung open with a bang.

Adele appeared in front of me, her expression thunderous. "Kenneth! Have you lost your mind? Cyrus hasn't slept properly in days, and he only just fell asleep. Do you realize you almost woke him? Move out of the house for a while. I don't want you coming back and upsetting him again."

I could not help letting out a self-mocking laugh. Cyrus had simply lost a little sleep, and she was already this anxious. Had she ever stopped to think that I had been stranded alone in a foreign country for almost four days and had nearly failed to make it back?

I looked at her wearily and handed her the divorce agreement I had printed the moment I got back.

"If you want me to move out, fine. Sign the divorce agreement first."