When the Snow Settles

First, Kaleb Monroe destroyed Diego Dougherty's entry in an art competition.

Then he paid the media off to turn Diego's return to the country after his divorce into an entertainment headline portraying him as a discarded husband from a wealthy family.

And now, he secretly reported Diego's gallery for tax violations.

For forty-eight straight hours, Khloe Allen had tried everything she could to get Diego released on bail, but nothing worked.

Finally, she reached the end of her patience and confronted Kaleb Monroe.

"Have you gone crazy?" she demanded, each word deliberate. "What did Diego ever do to you? Whatever you have against someone, take it out on me."

"Take it out on you?" Kaleb laughed, but there was no warmth in it. "Khloe, get one thing straight. I'm your husband. Diego hasn't done anything wrong. You're the one who's wrong because he's the man in your heart."

He lifted his chin. "Don't forget, you're the one who owes me. You'll never be able to repay me for what you owe, not in this lifetime."

The moment he finished speaking, Khloe snatched the box cutter off the desk and plunged it into her chest without even blinking. Blood quickly spread across her clothes.

Her face visibly paled, but she still managed to ask in a hoarse voice, "If I give you my life in repayment, will that be enough?"

Kaleb froze.

When he didn't answer, Khloe pulled out the blade and raised it to stab herself a second time. Only then did he snap out of it and press his hands against her wound.

"Have you lost your mind?!"

Warm blood seeped through his trembling fingers. At some point, tears had begun falling from his eyes.

Khloe lost consciousness and toppled backward. Kaleb failed to catch her in time, and they both crashed to the floor.

His back struck the corner of the desk, sending a flash of pain through him so intense that his vision darkened. Yet his hands remained clamped over her wound.

"Someone! Call an ambulance!"

The lights in the hospital corridor were a blinding bright white. The red light above the operating room had been on for two hours.

When Khloe's mother, Jeannie Allen, heard what had happened and rushed over, she slapped Kaleb hard across the face.

"How far are you going to push Khloe before you'll finally leave her alone?!" Her voice trembled with fury. "Do you have to watch her die right in front of you before you'll be satisfied?!"

Kaleb slowly turned his head. His cheek burned, but he paid it no attention. He only lowered his eyes to his hands, which were stained with Khloe's blood.

How had things ended up like this?

In the beginning, all he wanted was for her to talk to him a little more, to care about him just a little more.

Their wedding seven years ago had been so lavish that the entire city had heard about it. But on their wedding night, Khloe had simply told him, "I need time to adjust," before retreating to the guest room.

When she accompanied him to visit his parents, she chatted happily with them. At home, however, she treated him as if he weren't there, sitting in silence whenever they ate together.

When he fell ill, she arranged for the best doctors, but she wouldn't offer him a single word of concern.

Her anniversary gifts were always the latest luxury watches from auction houses, yet she had never once chosen a gift for him herself.

Still, he told himself it was only a matter of time. He had plenty of time and patience.

Then, five years ago, Diego returned to the country after his divorce, bringing a daughter with him.

Khloe abandoned Kaleb to meet Diego at the airport. When the paparazzi sold him the photos, he smashed everything in his study that night. By the time Khloe returned, the room was in complete disarray.

She looked at the mess for a few seconds and then asked, "Do you need me to have my assistant contact a renovation company?"

Her calmness was more devastating than anything else could have been.

Later, when Diego opened an art gallery, she invested in it. When he fell ill, she stayed by his hospital bed. On his birthday, she personally selected a gift and attached a handwritten card.

Kaleb saw all of it, and so he began making things difficult for Diego.

Until now.

Perhaps he had been wrong from the very beginning. He believed that if he persisted long enough, he could get what he wanted.

But feelings didn't work that way.

Khloe was a perfect wife. She came home on time, remembered every anniversary, and fulfilled her marital obligations.

But that was all.

"Fine." Kaleb heard his own voice. "I'll leave her alone."

Jeannie stared at him in disbelief. "What did you say?"

Kaleb raised his head and repeated himself. "I'll divorce Khloe, just as you all wish."

With that, he turned and walked away without looking at anyone's reaction.

At the far end of the corridor, Diego arrived. The moment he saw Kaleb, he stopped and awkwardly began to explain himself.

"Kaleb, Khloe listed my number as her emergency contact, so the hospital called me..." He bit his lip. "If that bothers you, I'll leave right now."

Kaleb's steps faltered.

Khloe had only been forced to save his number in her phone, yet she'd had no problem listing Diego as her emergency contact.

But this time, Kaleb neither cried nor made a scene. He simply walked past Diego. "There's no need. Stay and take good care of her."

By the time he left the hospital, it was completely dark. He didn't call his driver. He simply wandered aimlessly along the streets.

The city was enormous, yet he couldn't think of anywhere to go.

Before he knew it, he returned to his own home. The living room lights were still on.

Kaleb pushed open the door. His parents had been talking about something, but when they saw him return in such a sorry state, they both jumped to their feet in shock.

"Kaleb? What happened to you?" His mother, Corrine Monroe, hurried over. The moment she saw the handprint on his cheek, her voice began to tremble. "Who hit you? Where's Khloe?"

His father, Waylon Monroe, looked grim as well. "I'm calling the Allens right now!"

"There's no need." Kaleb stopped him. "Mom, Dad, I'm planning to get divorced."

The living room fell silent.

Corrine was the first to react, her eyes instantly reddening. "You've suffered so many indignities at her hands over the years. Your father and I have seen it all. We wanted you to divorce her, but we were afraid you'd be unhappy if you did."

Waylon remained silent for a long time before finally asking, "Have you really made up your mind?"

"Yes."

"Then get divorced." Waylon patted him on the shoulder.

Looking at his father's once-straight back, Kaleb couldn't help feeling a pang of sadness.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed several financial reports and draft contracts spread across the table.

He picked them up and turned through the pages one by one. Gradually, his fingertips grew cold.

A major project had been snatched away from them. Their cash flow was strained. Waylon had tried to establish a partnership with the Allen Group, but the terms required his parents to dilute their ownership stakes.

No wonder. No wonder they were still awake so late.

Kaleb closed his eyes. "Khloe has been deliberately making things difficult for you..."

Waylon forced a casual tone. "It's not that serious. It's just a minor problem. I can handle it."

The dense columns of figures and clauses stung Kaleb's eyes until they burned.

When he married Khloe, everyone in their social circle had said she was marrying above her station. His parents had worried that she might feel inferior, so they'd spared no effort to help her over the years.

The Allen Group had grown stronger step by step. Yet now that Khloe had become powerful enough to stand on her own, the first thing she'd done was turn around and strip his parents of their say in the business.

They had been afraid he would worry or feel caught in the middle, so they never mentioned any of it.

The gray at his father's temples and the wrinkles on his mother's face concealed years of exhaustion and worry that he'd chosen not to see.

For the sake of his marriage, which he had forced into existence, how many smiles had they worn, how many grievances had they swallowed, and how much had they shielded him from behind the scenes?

Fortunately, it wasn't too late.

He took a deep breath. "Mom, Dad, I'm sorry. I've been so immature. It won't happen again."

Kaleb didn't sleep at all that night.

He sat in front of his computer and went through the files one by one, piecing together the parts of his family's affairs he had neglected over the years.

Two days later, Khloe was transferred to a regular hospital room. Kaleb arrived at the hospital with a drafted divorce agreement.