CHAPTER 2

In the second year of our marriage, our relationship began to deteriorate because he suspected me of cheating.

By the third year, we were like enemies playing games—manipulating and hurting each other, only seeking one another out when pain demanded it.

Although we could no longer share a loving husband-and-wife bond, I still treated him like my best friend who had gone astray. That was why I stayed.

We had depended on each other in the past, after all. So, as always, when he needed my help, I rushed to protect him.

“Where did you go, wifey?”

I snapped out of my thoughts and realized that Vercel had already finished his business. The woman who had been with him was gone, and now he stood in front of me.

He was taller than me, standing at 186 cm. Looking up, his phoenix-shaped eyes met mine. 

They were cold and indifferent, yet there was something in them I couldn’t understand. That unreadable emotion in his gaze—the one that had initially drawn me to him—still intrigued me. 

He wore a silk black robe. His smooth collarbone greeted my eyes, and his chest opened wide, dominating my line of sight since I only reached his neck.

Seeing that I intended not to answer, he smirked and lightly caressed my cheek.

“Did you have fun with your lover?” His voice was cold, but the mockery beneath it was unmistakable.

If it had been before, I would have retorted immediately. I didn’t have a lover. I didn't cheat on him—unlike him. But now, all I wanted was to rest my tired and battered body.

I let out a small sigh.

“No.” No, I didn’t have a lover.

“I’m tired. If you no longer need me for your business, I’ll go upstairs.”

“Ah… your lover tired you, yet you say you didn’t have fun? Did your lover not satisfy you? How about I try again?”

Try again. He meant being intimate with me again.

We had tried countless times, but my condition always held us back. And I knew that no matter how willing we both were, we could never overcome the barrier in my mind—the thought that he was not entirely clean.

“Vercel, enough.”

I touched my temple and pressed lightly. I was already exhausted, and hearing his accusations made my head ache.

Silence.

When Vercel spoke again, his tone was gentle, almost soft: “Fine. You… rest well.”

Finally. I pulled my luggage and headed toward the stairs. After only five steps, Vercel spoke again.

“Sky… don’t forget our anniversary tomorrow.”

I raised my hand and waved, letting him know I had heard.

I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. My body felt heavy, my head pounding. Groggily, I reached for the phone and answered.

“Sky? Where are you?” The noise in the background made my headache throb even more.

“What?” I mumbled, my voice thick with fatigue.

“Sky. It’s our anniversary.” The voice on the other end was distorted, choppy. “It’s already 6:30. Where are you? The event starts in thirty minutes.”

“Okay.” I clutched my hair and tugged it in frustration. “Send me the address.”

When nothing but background noise answered me, I hung up.

I curled back into my bed, unmotivated to move. Aching muscles sent sharp signals to my throbbing head.

I was about to drift back to sleep when the memory of the anniversary banquet hit me.

Every year since our marriage, Vercel hosted a banquet. He called it our Anniversary Banquet. 

At first, I was touched. I thought maybe, finally, he loved me—that he was doting on me, and that was why he held a party for our wedding anniversary. 

But that illusion shattered the moment I stepped into the banquet hall and understood its true purpose.

The so-called Anniversary Banquet was nothing but a disguised blind date for the children of wealthy families. 

Most attendees were in their twenties and thirties, all single, treating the anniversary I had cherished as a casual opportunity to flirt and find a fling.

I could have endured that, had it ended there—but that night held a far crueler revelation.

While the party was in full swing, I caught sight of my husband in a dark corner, kissing another woman. And from the whispers that reached me, she was his first love.

That was the moment I decided I would stop loving him.

I could tolerate the knowledge that he had been with other women in his past. But knowing he had sexual relations with someone else while married to me? That was a line I could not cross.

Even if I had wanted to give him a chance to win me over again, my condition and trust issues forbade it.

I could lose myself in a man, surrender to love, and be madly devoted—but in my heart, there was a switch. Once flipped, there was no returning.

That night, I realized our marriage was a lost cause.

And I knew, I could never love him the same way again.