Love Burns One Moment and Snuffs Out the Next

Though my vision was blurry, I kept my eyes glued to the woman in front of me. She seemed familiar and like a complete stranger at the same time.

Just last night, this dazzling, showy woman had held my foot, kissing it and saying how much she loved me in an affectionate voice.

And yet, now, she wanted me dead on the spot.

Pain crashed over me all of a sudden.

It felt like my arms had been ripped off. Blood streamed down my face, stinging my eyes. It hurt so much that I clenched my jaw and could not even scream.

"His face is all messed up and swollen! That's what he gets for not knowing who he was dealing with. Messing with Brandon… Who brought him in? Where's his wife?"

Everyone in the gym shook their heads, their eyes full of unspoken pity.

No one knew that the woman who had just beaten me half to death with boxing gloves was none other than my own wife, Tara Brewer.

I had only come here to deliver the company seal to Tara. But by some twisted coincidence, I walked in on her hosting a private party for her lover.

The moment I saw Tara, I thought she'd recognize me. I thought she'd save me from Brandon Holden.

But she'd only glanced at me before looking away.

Brandon had only casually said, "I should get some exercise in after that big lunch. I've never tried using a person as a punching bag before. Bet it feels pretty good."

So without even looking at me properly, Tara put on the gloves and started hitting me along with him, punching me repeatedly.

It was as if the metallic smell of blood from my body and mouth gave them a rush of adrenaline—they got even more into it, their eyes gleaming with bloodthirst.

Barely alive, I dangled in midair, swaying like a lifeless ragdoll. A pool of bright red blood spread across the floor.

Clenching my teeth, I forced out a hoarse rasp with everything I had. "Tara…"

Narrowing her eyes, Tara stopped mid-swing. Something stirred in me as I thought she'd realized it was me. I felt a bitter ache deep down.

The next second, she kicked me hard in the stomach, disgust evident in her voice. "Do you think you can seduce me looking like that? Disgusting. Beat him up!"

At that, countless punches and kicks rained down on me. I felt like I had been run over by a truck a hundred times.

The vicious, twisted look on her face made me tremble uncontrollably. I was the one she cherished above all else, the one she clung to every night.

I'd been by her side from her days as a delinquent all the way until she became who she was now. We'd loved each other for five years.

We were husband and wife legally, and in every other sense, so why was I being accused of seducing her? And why did she want to beat me to death?

With how much pain I was in, it was as if my body was being ripped apart. All I could do was watch Tara walk away, smiling sweetly at Brandon as they left.

My breathing grew weaker. Then, everything faded to black.

The gym staff, afraid that I might actually die and that the gym might end up having the police constantly come over to ask questions, eventually called an ambulance for me.

All the while, they kept asking me who my wife was.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. The woman who had just been holding Brandon's hand was my wife.