Chapter 2

"Jerry, the wedding night completely exhausted me. I'm not familiar with this place, and the director said you should help me deliver this to HR."

The director had once shown me trust and recognition—I couldn't refuse. I had no choice but to run the errand.

But when I returned after finishing the paperwork, I found the banners in my office—symbols of gratitude from patients I had painstakingly treated—thrown to the ground, scuffed with footprints. Each one carried immeasurable meaning to me.

And there was Keith, lounging in my chair, feet propped on the desk, with my staff reports under his heels, looking at me with complete indifference.

"Jerry," he said casually, "I'll be working here from now on. It's better if these trivial things disappear."

Rage ignited in me instantly. I stormed forward and yanked him up by his collar.

"How dare you touch my things!" I roared.

And he—he actually grinned.

"If I can touch even Diane, what are these things to me?"

My teeth clenched with fury. I swung my fist straight at his face.

Keith collapsed to the floor, howling in pain. His sudden change left me momentarily stunned.

Then, the sharp click of heels announced her arrival. Diane stormed toward us, face blazing with anger.

Now I understood why Keith had shifted so abruptly just moments before.

Diane's hand struck my face without a shred of mercy.

"Jerry, you've gone too far!"

She bent down, soothing Keith while signaling someone to fetch a first-aid kit.

"Diane, don't be angry. Jerry didn't mean to hurt me," he said, his words a calculated provocation.

Her gaze on me grew even colder, her anger barely restrained.

"Keith's been overworked these past two days; his body is exhausted. Were you planning to kill him over a simple personnel change? For a position transfer, you strike like a madman! Jerry, you're such a petty, dark-hearted man—I can't even stand to look at you!"

Each word pierced me like a thousand needles, leaving me wounded and furious.

I could accept her choice. I could accept a job reassignment. I could even accept that she had never loved me. But I could not accept being misunderstood.

Seven years together. Countless nights I had given her my heart. Even if she could never love me, she should have understood my character. And yet, once again, I was humiliated. In front of Keith, I was nothing more than a lowly fool, trampled at will.

"You think staying silent will make this go away? Apologize!" she barked, as if scolding a dog.

"Why should I? Even if he had died, he would've deserved it!"

Diane's teeth ground together. She slapped me again.

"I must have been blind to marry a man so narrow-minded! Apologize! Or we're getting a divorce!"

She had once agreed to my proposal. Afraid that waiting too long would cause problems, I had begged her until she consented to register our marriage before holding the ceremony.

So divorce—that was Diane's final card.

I had once been terrified of losing her, unable to imagine my life without her. Time and again, I lowered my standards, compromised, and gave in to her.

But now it was different. My heart was broken beyond repair.

"Fine," I said. "We'll see each other at the courthouse for the divorce."

Diane's face flickered with uncertainty.

"Don't think I'm joking!"

I kept my expression solemn, my tone icy.

"I'm not joking either."