Chapter 1

I'd just been dragged back from the brink of death, but instead of being wheeled into the ICU, I was transferred to a regular hospital room.

Seeing how pale I still was, Jonathan Fowler softened his tone. "Don't worry. I'll get the best doctors to save you, but on one condition. Lottie's career is just taking off right now, and it can't be ruined by this one incident. As long as you're willing to tell everyone it was an accident, I'm willing to let you out of here."

He helped me sit up and brought over a bowl of oats. "The doctor said you're too weak right now and can only handle this. Come on…"

I turned my head away with my eyes lowered. "There's no need to trouble you, Mr. Fowler."

Jonathan's expression instantly darkened, and his voice rose. "It's been three years, and you still can't change how you address me?"

I didn't answer. In truth, before he drove me insane, I used to call him Jon.

When I first arrived in this world, before the system even told me what my mission was, I met him. He treated me incredibly well, making it clear through his actions that I was the love of his life and the wife he'd chosen for eternity.

So, that way of addressing him never changed, even ten years into our marriage. He was the one who changed first.

Jonathan decided I was "too old" and found a woman named Charlotte Stewart, who looked like a younger version of me. The day I saw photos of him out shopping with her, I exploded, demanding to know what he thought he was doing.

What I got in return was his perfectly righteous explanation. "I just really miss how you looked when you were younger. She looks so much like you, but don't worry—nothing has ever happened between her and me. I only love you."

I said nothing and stared at him as I shed tears of grievance.

He stepped forward, pulled me into a tight hug, and soothed me in a gentle voice, "I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

And I believed him.

Later, a video of Jonathan and Charlotte kissing blew up online. This time, I held back my anger and forced myself to stay calm as I asked him about it. For the first time, he snapped at me, openly impatient.

"It was a scene. A kissing scene is a totally normal part of the script! What are you jealous about now? Can't you stop throwing these tantrums?"

I stared at him in disbelief. He wasn't even Charlotte's male lead, so what exactly was he helping her with?

I spoke softly, "Let's get a divorce."

He refused.

I couldn't stand the sight of him, so I packed a suitcase, wanting to go away to clear my head.

Jonathan thought I was trying to run. He had me dragged back overnight from out of town and essentially put me under house arrest.

When he snapped a handcuff around one of my wrists, I swung my free hand and slapped him hard across the face. "You're insane!"

He didn't even get angry. He just wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and said, "I told you you're the only one I love. So don't even think about leaving me.

"You're just jealous because I've been spending too much time with Charlotte, right? Fine, then. I'll keep you by my side and spend every day with you. What more do you want?"

I looked at him, thinking he really had lost his mind.

I refused to accept this. One day, when Jonathan went on a business trip, I took my chance and climbed out the window to escape. But as I limped into the airport, I saw him standing at the boarding gate.

In that instant, my blood ran cold.

He called over his bodyguards, who seized me. He said, "You must be sick in the head to keep trying to leave me like this. You love me with all your heart, don't you?"

Jonathan had me locked up in a psychiatric hospital. He told me to reflect on myself and stop being jealous and acting crazy.

In that place, I was shocked with electricity, beaten with clubs, and pumped full of drugs until there was barely any life left in me.

At last, when I was hanging on by a thread and Jonathan was asking if I could finally behave, the system appeared with a notification. [Congratulations. Mission triggered: Max out the male lead, Jonathan Fowler's guilt. Current guilt: 80%.]

I was stunned. I tried to struggle up from the bed, but the nurse by my side thought I was trying to run again and immediately sedated me. I collapsed back onto the mattress, unable to say a single word.

[Current guilt: 83%.]

I lifted my gaze and caught a flicker of reluctance and pain in Jonathan's eyes.

So that was it. The more miserable I was, the guiltier he felt. If that was all it took to get me out of here and back home, then I would play along.

But after that, the guilt stopped rising. I had to wait three years before Charlotte finally showed up in person. The first time she came to see me, she brought a grand gift. I was already half-dead, and she pushed me down a flight of stairs.

I was on the verge of death, my whole body feeling like it was being blown apart from the inside. But when I saw the guilt meter over Jonathan's head finally hit 100%, I smiled in pure relief.

Perfect. I could finally go home.