Chapter 2

Jeremy's POV

Richard noticed my odd behavior.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

I forced a smile. "I'm fine. It's just my first time seeing Madeleine love someone this much. I'm a little surprised."

Their hands were tightly intertwined, fingers locked together perfectly. Yet, in the ten years I'd been with Madeleine, she had never once reached for my hand first.

Richard smiled. "She's usually quite fierce. She's only a tad more gentle around me."

No, being "a tad more gentle" was an understatement. She treated him with the utmost gentleness.

The giant LED screen in the ballroom cycled through 100 sets of their wedding photos.

Over the past decade, Madeleine and I had barely taken any pictures together. And even when we did, she would ask me to delete them.

But the woman on the screen smiled, made playful faces, and the tips of her ears even turned red when Richard kissed her on the cheek.

Just then, Madeleine asked Richard quietly, "Do you want to take a break? You got hurt yesterday."

"I'm fine," Richard replied with a smile. Then, he turned to me. "Oh, and that's another one of her good qualities. She's really attentive and caring."

Unfortunately, her attentiveness had never once been directed at me.

Whenever one of my migraines got so bad that I couldn't even get out of bed, I could never reach Madeleine. She was always busy with work, only returning my calls the next day.

And the next time it happened, she'd continue to overlook me yet again.

I had always believed that she was just that kind of person—someone who wasn't good at expressing herself—and so I kept making excuses for her.

She forgot every anniversary because she didn't care for formalities. She overlooked my emotional needs because she was too busy with work.

Today, the truth finally hit me. She had simply saved all her tenderness and romance for someone else.

I didn't know how I made it through the reception. It was only after I returned to my budget hotel room that I realized tears were streaming down my face.

When Madeleine and I first got together, we had truly been broke. I'd grown up in the mountains, so anytime I had free time, I'd take on part-time jobs.

Although she was a local, she'd always claimed that her family's financial situation wasn't great either, and we'd often work part-time at the same store.

After we started dating, she always insisted on paying whenever we went out. While other couples spent their time figuring out where to go for fun, she and I spent every day figuring out how to save money.

That was why I'd never once suspected she was a wealthy heiress.

The year we graduated, she said her family had found her a job, while I moved to a different city. During all those years apart, she stayed up late working overtime every day, all just so she could save up enough money for us to get married.

My heart ached for her, and all I wanted to do was shoulder some of that burden. Every time she complained that her supervisor had cut her commission again, I'd transfer half of whatever I'd earned from my part-time jobs to her.

Those years were exhausting and hard, but I was incredibly happy. So happy that even after seeing the truth with my own eyes, I still found it hard to believe.