On the day of the performance, Chandler held my hand tightly the whole time.

It wasn't until the musical began that I realized it was the same musical we'd watched seven years ago. The familiar storyline and songs pulled me back to the night he proposed, when I'd thought I was simply there to watch a show.

At the finale, the theater suddenly went dark before a single spotlight illuminated him standing there in a suit, holding a bouquet of roses.

Amid the actors' soaring voices and a shower of rose petals, I tearfully said yes.

Seven years had passed since that night, and the man beside me was no longer the same person I used to know. Once again, tears started streaming down my face.

Chandler noticed I was crying and gently wiped my tears with a tissue. "Why are you getting emotional over a musical? You're still as sentimental as ever, my love."

I didn't respond.

Just then, a familiar figure appeared beside us. It was Heather, dressed in a striking red dress, as she casually slid into the seat next to Chandler.

"What are you doing here?" Chandler frowned. Though his voice sounded sharp, his eyes remained fixed on her.

"I just wanted to apologize," she said softly, putting on a pitiful act. "I shouldn't have flirted with that doctor at the hospital. Let's not stay mad at each other, and forgive me, alright?"

I could feel the tension around Chandler ease visibly. That was when it struck me—his fight with Heather was the reason he'd let me out of the basement early and brought me here. Everything was just an act to make her jealous.

I almost laughed out loud, feeling utterly absurd. What did they take me for? A tool for their games?

The theater lights dimmed as the musical reached a climactic scene. In the darkness, I gripped the armrests tightly, listening to the hushed whispers and rustling sounds of fabric coming from the two beside me.

They probably thought the musical's volume was loud enough to drown it out, but I heard everything.

Suddenly, a sharp, metallic snap echoed through the theater. Someone screamed, "Watch out above!"

I looked up toward the ceiling. In the deep shadows, I could make out a massive crystal chandelier swaying precariously. And before I could react, it came crashing down on us.

The sound of shattering glass filled the theater. An excruciating pain shot through my body as something like a giant boulder heavily pinned me down.

Just before darkness swallowed my consciousness, I saw Chandler throw himself over Heather and shield her with his body.

When I woke up, I found myself lying in a hospital ward. Chandler, whose eyes were bloodshot, was sitting by my side.

"Oh, you're finally awake! Thank heavens!"

He looked as though he hadn't slept for days, with dark circles under his eyes and a thick bandage still wrapped around his head. Clutching my hand desperately, he covered it with kisses as if on the verge of tears.

"I thought I was going to lose you, my love. It's such a relief that you're fine... If anything had happened to you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself…"

Listening to the tremor in his voice, I instinctively pulled my hand back. "I'm tired. I just want to rest."

Assuming I was still upset with him, he planted a doting kiss on my forehead and said, "Rest well, my love. I promise to make it up to you once you've recovered."

As he was leaving, he paused at the door. "Oh, and our wedding anniversary is next Saturday. I booked the largest opera house in the city to celebrate and promise to make it an unforgettable night for you."

Instead of responding, I turned my back to him and listened to the door click shut.

I slept for a long time after that. A nurse came in to check on me throughout and said I was lucky not to have suffered any injuries to my organs or bones.

Outside the door, a few nurses were gossiping.

"That couple in the room next door is just so sweet. Mr. Leighton hardly ever leaves his wife's side."

"Right? I even saw him feeding her meals and water himself."

"That's wonderful. I wish my husband were that attentive."

I knew they were talking about Chandler and Heather. Though I'd been married to Chandler for seven years, I was just a mistress without an official status all this time. And even when our lives were in danger, his first instinct was to protect Heather, not me.

I lay quietly in bed, letting their words sink in.

Just then, my phone rang. It was from Mom, who sounded panicked and anxious. "Why haven't you answered your phone for so long? I thought something happened to you!"

Listening to her voice, the tears I'd been holding back finally streamed down my face. My voice cracked as I whispered, "I'm fine, Mom. I was just busy."

She fussed over me for a while before finally relaxing after making sure I was truly fine.

"The Atwoods' son is returning to Osnea next Saturday. Since you've made up your mind, I'll have him pick you up."

Next Saturday was the day of my fabricated wedding anniversary with Chandler.

The news brought me an unexpected sense of relief and made me smile through tears. "Sure, I'll be ready by then."

On the morning of the wedding anniversary, Chandler left early to oversee the arrangements at the opera house, while I stayed at home alone.

He'd invited a long list of elites, filled the venue with tens of thousands of roses, and hired Osnea's top symphony orchestra for a live performance. The entire evening was to be streamed live across major social platforms.

For our seventh wedding anniversary, he custom-made a massive seven-tier cake. Each layer was a beautiful tribute, decorated to represent a different year and a cherished memory from our seven years together.

He said he had a surprise for me. And by coincidence, I had one for him, too, though I wouldn't be there to deliver it in person.

I'd packed all my belongings and gathered every keepsake from our years together. After tossing them into the trash can in the backyard, I set them ablaze.

"Where are we going after this, Mom?" Alfie asked uneasily and held my hand as we stood before the fire.

I forced a smile. "To another man's place. He was a good friend of mine a long time ago… though we had a fight. I think he'll be kind to you, but even if he isn't, I'll always be here to protect you."

Alfie nodded and didn't probe further as a Rolls-Royce pulled up at the gate. I recognized it as the car sent to pick us up.

"Goodbye, Chandler."

I took one last look at the house and the roaring flames. And without a trace of nostalgia, I turned and got into the back seat.

…

At the opera house, Chandler moved through the crowd with a glass of champagne, greeting guests one by one.

Everyone praised him for being a true model husband, devoted and loving even after seven years of marriage. But he felt a growing, unexplainable unease as his eyes constantly drifted toward the entrance. I was the one he was waiting for, and yet, I was still nowhere to be found.

He pulled out his phone and checked our chat. The latest messages were all from him.

"My love, are you awake?"

"The venue is all set. Have Gordon bring you over."

"My love?"

He sent another message, only to realize he'd been blocked.

A cold dread washed over him as he tried calling and attempting other social platforms, only to find that he'd been blocked everywhere.

With trembling hands, he called Gordon. "Haven't you picked up Mrs. Leighton yet?"

Gordon's stammering, hesitant voice came through the line. "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Leighton. We just went inside to check, and it seems Mrs. Leighton has left on her own…"

Chandler froze, his voice trembling as he spoke. "That's impossible! Look again. If you don't find her today, don't bother working in that house again!"

As he ended the call, his heart pounded wildly.

"It can't be… She wouldn't leave me…" he muttered to himself, scrambling for a reasonable explanation. "She said she had a surprise, so maybe she's just preparing it."

Just then, the doors of the ballroom swung open, and every guest turned their eyes toward the entrance.