Chapter 2

The lawyer's brisk, businesslike voice came through the phone. "Mr. Tatham, under normal procedures, the process will take at least two weeks."

"That's too slow. I'll pay you double. Get this done as quickly as possible. I need the divorce papers before the end of the month," Fredrick said.

The lawyer sounded surprised but quickly recovered. "Understood. I'll handle it as soon as possible."

Fredrick ended the call and walked over to the large wedding photo that hung in the living room. In the photo, Roxanne wore a pure white wedding dress, her eyes full of happiness and love. He stood behind her with his arms around her, a broad smile on his handsome face.

That was when they had been most in love, a time he had once believed would last forever.

Fredrick reached out and lightly brushed his fingers across the cold frame, then across the photograph of his younger self, whose heart and eyes had once held nothing but Roxanne.

In high school, Roxanne had been the school's notorious tyrant, the undisputed top dog. She was beautiful, and despite being a girl, she fought hard and often. She carried herself with reckless swagger, with a pack of followers who trailed behind her everywhere she went.

She was the kind of legend who gave teachers headaches and made countless boys fall for her in secret.

By contrast, he was a model student. Handsome and always ranked among the top three students in their grade, he was the kind of star student countless girls admired from afar but never dared approach.

They came from two entirely different worlds, yet Roxanne fell for him at first sight.

By her own account, it happened on a drowsy afternoon. She had climbed over the school wall to skip class, and the moment her feet hit the ground, she saw him hurry past with a stack of homework in his arms.

That single glance was all it took. She fell hard.

Then she began pursuing him with everything she had.

Every day, without fail, she slipped breakfast and snacks into his desk. She skipped her own classes just to sneak up to the back door of his classroom for a glimpse of him. When she heard that a girl had written him a love letter, she cornered the girl in the bathroom for a "friendly chat."

Whenever he had after-school cleanup duty, she brought her followers along to help, and they practically fought over who got to sweep. She knew he was afraid of the dark, so every night after late study sessions, she quietly walked him home.

He felt uneasy and kept his distance. He did not think they belonged to the same world, so he set her a nearly impossible condition in the hope that she would give up on her own. "Roxanne, if you can rank among the top hundred students in our grade on the final exam, I'll consider being with you."

He was certain she could not do it. But the brash girl stared at him for a long moment, then nodded firmly. "Deal! You said it yourself!"

Over the following months, she became a different person. She stopped skipping class and fighting. She buried herself in practice problems day and night until everyone around her was convinced she had lost her mind.

On the day the final rankings went up, she dragged him to the announcement board. Her name was right there, in 98th place.

Her eyes blazed with excitement. She ran up to him, her voice trembling. "Fredrick! I did it! You've got to keep your promise!"

In that moment, as he looked at the love that burned in her eyes, he fell for her without reservation.

They stayed together from high school through college.

Then came the day she met his parents. They firmly opposed the relationship, convinced that Roxanne was unreliable, that a woman like her had no future and did not deserve him.

He fought bitterly with his parents, nearly severed ties with them, and moved out to live with her in a cramped, run-down rented room.

He still remembered that winter night. The rented room had no heat and was as cold as an icebox.

Roxanne's eyes reddened. She gripped his hands, which were raw from the cold, and her voice broke. "Freddy, I swear it. I'll love you for the rest of my life. I'm going to make something of myself. I'll make your parents see me differently, and I'll give you a good life."

He only smiled. "As long as it's you, I don't care what happens to me."

He lived with her in a basement apartment, where they ate plain pasta. Every time her early ventures ran into trouble, he handed over all the scholarship money he had earned to keep her afloat, and he stayed by her side to encourage her.

During their hardest stretch, the two of them had only half a packet of pasta left. She gave all of it to him and drank cold water throughout the night.

Eventually, her business began to turn around and grew larger by the year.

On the day her company rang the opening bell at its IPO, she stood beneath the flashing cameras, radiant with triumph, and the first person she thanked was him.

She said, "Without my husband, Fredrick Tatham, there would be no Roxanne Duranov standing here today."

She bought him expensive watches and jewelry, a luxury car, and a mansion, and took him traveling all over the world.

Everyone said Fredrick was a lucky man to have found a woman like Roxanne, who was beautiful, wealthy, and devoted all at once. He believed it too. He believed the hard years were behind them and their happiness would last forever.

But little by little, she began coming home later and later.

Then, for the first time, he found traces of another man in her car.

He followed her. Outside a private room in an upscale restaurant, he watched as she pulled a college student into her arms and kissed him. The young man's name was Jaxon Serra, and his features bore a faint resemblance to Fredrick's own.

In that moment, his entire world collapsed. He broke down and rushed inside, nearly hysterical as he demanded answers, then hurled a water glass from the table at them.

In the chaos, she shoved him away. He fell hard, and his head struck a chair. Blood soaked through his clothes.

When he woke in the hospital, Roxanne was kneeling beside his bed. She sobbed, swore she would cut Jaxon off completely, and begged him to forgive her.

He stared at the pale ceiling, his heart as cold as ash, and nodded anyway.

He still held on to the last scraps of love buried in his heart and could not bring himself to let go.

But it was not long before he walked in on them a second time, this time in the new apartment she had bought. Once again, it was Jaxon.

He attacked Jaxon like a man gone mad, but Roxanne threw herself between them and held him back. "Fredrick, don't hit him! If you want to hit someone, hit me!"

Jaxon cowered behind her, while Fredrick stood there like a pathetic, ridiculous clown.

Consumed by grief, he threatened to end his life unless she cut things off with Jaxon for good.

She agreed and swore an oath to the sky.

Then came the third time.

At the anniversary dinner he had carefully prepared for her, she received a phone call and rushed out. An impulse made him follow her. He found her again, drunk, as she followed Jaxon into a hotel.

In that moment, he did not even have the strength left to feel the pain. He went home and swallowed half a bottle of sleeping pills.

After he was revived, Roxanne stayed at his bedside. Her face showed little sympathy, only deep impatience and exhaustion.

She said, "Fredrick, can you please stop making scenes? I admit it. I loved you, loved you like I was out of my mind. But maybe it was too intense back then, because now it feels like that love's run dry. I can't work up any interest in it anymore.

"Jax makes me feel good. Easy, fresh. Sometimes, I even think if I'd met him sooner, I might not have ended up with you at all.

"But you've stayed with me for all these years. I'm not without a conscience. I won't divorce you. But I can't let go of Jax either."

She looked at him, barely clinging to life, and said the words that finally killed whatever was left in his heart. "From now on, can you and Jax just... coexist peacefully?"

This time, Fredrick did not cry or argue. He did not shed a single tear. He only looked at her quietly for a long while.

Then he gave a small nod. "Fine."

From that day on, he put away every sharp edge, every trace of love and hate, every feeling he had. He became exactly the husband she had wanted: quiet, obedient, the Duranov Group CEO's husband, who seemed to barely exist at all.

Then, without her knowledge, he secretly retained a lawyer and began filing for divorce.

When he had loved her most, he had been like a man who was slowly unraveling: sensitive, suspicious, consumed by the fear of losing her, and prone to hysteria.

But once that love had drained away bit by bit and his heart had truly died, he could finally breathe like a normal person, live like a normal person, and calmly wait to leave.