Chapter 1

My husband, Mason Longbright, tried comforting me after he saw me crying.

"Don't cry anymore, Michelle. Just pretend like tonight never happened, and I will still treat you and spoil you the same as before."

One hour ago, I had just witnessed him pinning his psychiatrist underneath his body while he plunged his lower body into her, greedily claiming her body like he was a starving wild beast.

Meanwhile, whenever we were in bed together, he could never get it up with me because his lower half just wouldn't have any reaction toward me at all.

I wanted to know why he could get it up with other women but not with me. Was it really my problem after all?

I walked toward him and leaned my head against his chest, starting to feel him up.

"Mason, since you don't have that issue anymore, can you please take me now?"

Mason's eyes glimmered with a conflicted expression. Then, he pushed me away hesitantly.

I refused to give up and reached down to cup his bulge, trying to get him to react to my ministrations.

Mason frowned, and he sounded as though he was trying his best to hold back.

"Stop touching me, Michelle Armstrong," he said.

I refused to listen and leaned close, wanting to kiss him with my red lips.

However, Mason ducked and quickly grabbed me by my wrists. The look in his eyes suddenly became sharp as he said, "I can't get it up. Stop messing around."

His words made me feel very hurt. However, I still wasn't ready to give in. I just pushed him down and straddled him as I began to complain.

"No, I want you. You've already recovered. Why won't you want me?"

Instead, Mason shoved me off with all his strength, his voice suddenly a few times louder as he shouted at me, "I told you it's impossible! You're going overboard if you still won't let this go!"

I froze. Tears of sadness began rolling down my cheeks.

Mason refused to touch me. Did that mean he hated being intimate with me?

When he saw that I was crying, Mason got to his feet with a frustrated look in his eyes and grabbed a sex toy from the bedside drawer.

"If you want it, fine. I'll satisfy you with this."

I looked at the familiar toys and lowered my gaze in disappointment, suddenly feeling the pain intensify.

We had been married for five years, but it had simply been a nominal one.

Back then, I had been in a huge rush to get to an interview, so I was jogging along on the road. When I turned around the corner, I didn't pay attention to the cars on the road.

Just as I realized that I was about to be hit by a car, Mason had rushed out toward me and shoved me aside. Meanwhile, he was the one who got sent flying instead.

Mason landed on the ground, covered in blood, and was on the verge of dying.

When he was finally brought back to life, he was temporarily paralyzed from the waist down, and he also suffered great damage to his manhood.

Mason, who had always been living life with much vigor, suddenly lost all of it and became listless instead, living life in the dumps.

As a form of gratitude, I began accompanying him to his physiology sessions every day to help him regain mobility in his lower body.

Although his legs eventually got better, he developed erectile dysfunction. However, the doctor had said that it would get better if he were willing to cooperate and continue receiving treatment for it.

We eventually fell in love with each other as we spent time together.

Ultimately, Mason proposed to me, and I married him in the end.

After becoming his wife, I did everything in my power to find him the best doctors for his condition. And two years ago, the doctor had told me that Mason's erectile dysfunction had been thoroughly cured.

Still, every time I asked him to make love to me, he would reject me with the excuse that he couldn't get it up. He even told me that he hated the thought of it.

In the end, he would resort to using sex toys on me to satisfy my hunger.

However, I had caught him and witnessed him doing such things with Amy today. That meant he didn't really hate the thought of lovemaking, but rather, the person he was making love to.

But why wouldn't he do it with me?

I was his rightful wife. I had been married to him for five years. And yet, I simply couldn't compare to a woman whom he'd just met for a month?

I felt the pain in my chest intensify at the thought of that. I began questioning Mason angrily, "Mason Longbright! You slept with another woman today! So why can't you do the same with me? Is it because you're tired of me? Is it because you don't love me anymore?"

Mason's eyes turned dark. He sighed heavily and walked up to me before giving me a tight hug and petting me on the back.

"You're overthinking things. You're my wife. Of course I love you. It's just that I can't get it up, and there's nothing I can do about it.

"Let's not talk about it anymore. Have a good rest tonight. I'm still busy with work, so I'm going back to the office tonight."

Mason then lowered his head and kissed me on the cheek. Then, he let go of me and turned to leave.

I watched him leave in a hurry as though some wild beast was chasing after him. I finally couldn't stand it any longer and burst into tears.

I was angry and indignant, but I had been holding it back.

I clenched my fists until my nails dug deep into my palms, and then a sudden, piercing pain shot through me. I realized they had pressed into a cut that was already there, left behind when Mason lost control yesterday and beat me.

Mason was cold and aloof in front of others, but nobody knew that he had bipolar disorder with violent manic episodes. Whenever he was triggered, he lashed out, harming and beating those around him.

I had endured five years of suffering at his hands, his manic episodes leaving countless scars across my body. And even though his violence broke me, I still felt pity when the mania subsided and he appeared helpless and remorseful.

I searched tirelessly across the world for a psychiatrist who might cure his mania. But his condition never improved—instead, he ended up having an affair with his psychiatrist.

A month ago, I managed to find Amy Becker, a famous psychiatrist, to treat Mason's bipolar disorder. Amy had even moved in with us so that she could treat him better.

She was always with him, taking care of his every need. And Mason, who had never opened up to anyone else, treated her quite well and was also willing to talk to her about everything.

They were practically glued together at the hip, and their interactions were quite intimate as well.

At first, I had gotten jealous of her, but Mason kept reassuring me that Amy was simply treating his condition. He also told me that I was just overthinking and overcomplicating things between them.

Yet, I never thought that they would eventually end up sleeping together.

I had caught them sleeping together on the night of my birthday banquet when I pushed open the door to the lounge in the hotel.

Their bodies kept moving against each other, Mason thrusting deeply into her as she let out lewd moans and gasps, completely enjoying themselves.

All of my friends and family members saw them too.

While I shut the door on them in panic, everyone immediately began murmuring and whispering among themselves. Meanwhile, I just ran away in fear and terror.

I felt my heart breaking again when I recalled the scene of Mason betraying me. The pain in my chest felt as if someone was slicing at my heart with a sharp knife with blood seeping everywhere.

I had vowed to take care of him for the rest of my life on the day I married him, so I did everything in my power to be the perfect wife for him.

But now, everything I did for him felt like nothing but a joke.

I cried all night, turning the betrayal over in my mind.

I wanted to give up on him, but I simply couldn't bear to let go of the relationship. I couldn't just break things off cleanly with him.

Finally, I came to a decision.

I was going to give him a final chance. And if I realized that he really didn't love me anymore, then I would divorce him so that he could get together with Amy instead.