At a high school reunion, my wife, Hillary Sheffer, known for her great luck in gambling, ends up losing three million dollars to her first love, Shane Norris.

This amount included the two million dollars that we had set aside to buy a new house as well as the life-saving money that I needed for my mom's brain surgery.

I'm so furious that all I feel is iciness permeating my pores. Then, I question Hillary angrily, "Did you lose to Shane on purpose? I've never seen you lose before when you gambled during family gatherings!"

But Hillary turns her head away from me righteously.

"There's no such thing as full confidence in winning every game when it comes to gambling. All I can do is cough up the payment whenever I lose.

"Besides, it's difficult enough for Shane to raise his own kid after getting divorced. What's wrong with me lending him a helping hand?

"You're a grown-up now, Lucas. Stop being so stingy and petty."

As Shane wraps an arm around Hillary's shoulders, he pushes the die toward me. Mockery can be seen plastered all over his face.

"Hey, Lucas, you should be a good sport and know how to accept defeat gracefully. You already have Hillary as your wife. Meanwhile, I just want some money from her. Isn't this fair enough?

"Then again, I can give you a chance. Let's go for one more round, you and me. If you win, I'll return the money to you."

Everyone else begins cheering us on, eager to watch an exciting drama unfold.

I don't respond to Shane at all. Instead, I pick up the die.

After leaving Harkensalle, I've sworn that I will never touch anything related to gambling ever again. I never thought that I'd end up breaking that vow in less than three years.

Shane Norris stood there looking smug, like he was certain he was going to win.

With a lazy smirk, he said, "Lucas, you don't look like someone who knows how to play. Let's keep it simple then—high-low."

As he spoke, he shot a look at the others around the room and raised his voice.

"But just betting money is boring. How about the loser has to bark like a dog in front of everyone? Sounds exciting, right?"

The room erupted in laughter, and countless pairs of eyes turned to me, waiting for a show.

One classmate I knew somewhat well leaned in and whispered, "Lucas, don't be rash. Shane learned his dice skills from Hillary herself, and she's placed in international competitions. Playing against him is basically suicide."

Naturally, I hadn't forgotten that fact.

My wife, Hillary Sheffer, could make dice dance like magic in her hands. So, the several million dollars she'd just lost to Shane had to have been somewhat deliberate.

Frowning, Hillary walked over and reached for my arm. "Why are you even gambling? You don't know anything about this. Get up. We're going home."

I took a step back, avoiding her hand.

"What? Afraid your old flame won't be able to beat me? You won't even let me give it a go?"

She instantly bristled, like a cat whose tail had just been stepped on. "What nonsense are you on about, Lucas Murray? Shane and I are completely innocent! If there really was anything going on between us, why would I have even married you? I only think of him as a younger brother!"

I let out a self-mocking laugh.

It was the same old line again. Every single time.

Yet in the three years that we'd been married, during every holiday, she'd always find all kinds of excuses to fly abroad so she could be with Shane.

Even on my birthday, she'd abandoned me and a whole table of food without a second thought just because Shane had called her drunk.

Even on our wedding night—because she'd heard that Shane was crying—she'd left me behind, alone in an empty room.

If things between them were truly innocent, she wouldn't have put him first in everything.

Under the crowd's amused, eager gazes, my anger and humiliation grew a hundred times over.

Shane pulled Hillary over in one quick motion and sat her down directly on his lap. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he chuckled, playing the peacemaker.

"Alright. Lucas is a newbie. I'll go easy on him. We'll just do best of three. I'm not the type to bully people."

Then, he leaned down and kissed Hillary on the cheek, his tone suggestive. "I'm so nice, right, Hil? You'll have to give me a little reward tonight."

A blush spread across her cheeks. She gave him a playful shove, but she didn't get off his lap. "What kind of reward? A hot-and-cold special?"

The men around us howled knowingly.

Instantly, the blood drained from my face.

Shane lifted his chin high, looking even more smug.

"Lucas, betting without stakes isn't fun. What do you have to wager? If you've got nothing to bet on, we can't start."

Hillary spoke up again, sounding like she was lecturing a naughty child, "Enough, Lucas. Stop making a scene. What could you possibly have to wager? Just go home already—your mom can't be left alone in the hospital."

The anger that had been building in my chest burst out of me. In a mocking tone, I snapped, "So you know my mom's in the hospital? So you clearly know that she's scheduled for brain surgery next week, and you still lost that three million dollars to Shane?

"What exactly did my mom ever do to you for you to treat her like this?"

A rare look of guilt flickered across Hillary's face, but it vanished almost instantly. She turned her head away and argued, "Money can always be earned again. Worst case, we can just borrow some money for your mom's surgery.

"Besides, that operation only has a 50% success rate. Rather than throwing that money down the drain, it's better to let Shane use it for emergencies. It's not easy for him to raise a kid by himself."

Disappointment crashed over me like a tidal wave, almost drowning me.

My mother had pitied Hillary for growing up without a father, so she always made sure Hillary had good food and nice clothes—even better than the ones she gave me.

When she found out Hillary had gastric issues, Mom searched the entire city for reputable doctors who dealt in traditional medicine. Then, every day at 5:00 am, she'd get up to brew herbal remedies for Hillary.

But now, in Hillary's eyes, Mom's life wasn't worth as much as Shane's supposed hardships. Three years of her genuine kindness had all gone down the drain.

Silently, I took off my watch and slammed it down on the table.

"Here."

The metal clanged against the tabletop, making a crisp yet heavy sound.

This was the watch Hillary had specially commissioned when we got married. The back of the watch was even engraved with our initials.

Shane took off his watch too and placed it down. It was a glittering one, clearly worth a fortune.

He deliberately laid the two watches side by side and said loudly to the crowd, "Mine was a gift from Hil.

"She sold the wedding gifts you got for her back then and used the money to have this watch made for me. It's not like certain people's watches here, which are probably just some 200-dollar bargain-bin deal with free shipping."

His words were completely unfiltered.

Everyone's eyes darted back and forth between the two watches. Shane's made mine look even cheaper, even more ridiculous.

It felt like someone had stabbed me in the heart, and I lowered my head in humiliation.

No wonder that less than a month after our wedding, when I'd asked about the whereabouts of the gifts I'd given her, she'd stammered and been evasive. She'd only said she had stored them away in a safe place.

As it turned out, she'd sold them to buy a watch for her first love. And the watch she'd tossed to me clearly wasn't worth the tens of thousands of dollars she'd claimed it was.

"Hurry up and play already! What are you stalling for?" someone shouted impatiently, eager for some drama.

I picked up the dice cup, and Shane picked up his.

His fingers flew, flipping the cup in a flashy move that drew cheers and applause. Meanwhile, I just gripped mine awkwardly and shook the cup up and down.

The stark contrast triggered another round of open ridicule and snickers.

We revealed the dice at the same time.

On his side were two fives. Ten. High.

On my side, it was one three and one four. Seven. Low.

"Wow! Shane's amazing!"

"Hillary really is an amazing teacher! Her student turned out to be just as good!"

The crowd kept praising him, and the looks they directed at me were full of gloating contempt.

Shane leaned triumphantly into Hillary's arms, looking like a cat that had gotten the cream.

"Oh, dear, your husband's luck isn't that great, Hil. What now that he's lost? Should we make him bark?"

Hillary pinched his cheek indulgently.

"Do what needs to be done. He was the one who insisted on gambling. He should learn his lesson."

Her gaze shifted to me, and all the tenderness in her eyes vanished, replaced by cold indifference.

Shane hooked my watch with his finger and twirled it in the air before whistling at me.

"Be a good boy and bark for me."

No one else in the private room said a word, but the undisguised malice in their eyes pierced me like a thousand needles.

I stared intently at Hillary, desperately hoping to see even the slightest hint of hesitation or reluctance on her face.

But I found nothing.

She even urged me impatiently, "Hurry up, Lucas. Stop dawdling."

For a moment, I felt dazed.

Back in high school, Shane had led the whole class in isolating me. He'd corner me in the restroom and beat me up whenever he felt like it.

Once, Hillary had burst in, kicked aside the people blocking the door, and pulled my bruised, battered self behind her.

"He's mine," she declared to everyone there. "From now on, whoever dares touch him has to get through me first!"

Sunlight streamed in from behind her, making her look like a radiant warrior princess. But now, my warrior princess was linking arms with the very bully from back then, forcing me to bark like a dog in front of everyone.

Humiliated, I let out a few pitiful barks. "Woof… Woof…"

Shane held up his phone, laughing hysterically, capturing the entire shameful scene. He then casually tossed my watch into a corner trash can that was filled with spilled drinks and filth. It landed with a dull thud.

He smacked his forehead in feigned surprise.

"I was going to give it to the beggar at the door, but it looks like even the watch knows it's trash and jumped in by itself."

His words were clearly loaded.

I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms, barely managing to hold onto my sanity.

"Keep going," I said.

"Enough, Lucas! What else do you even have? Don't make a fool of yourself here," Hillary snapped, her tone full of disapproval and disgust.

I ignored her.

I reached into my pocket, pulled out my car keys, and slammed them down on the table.

"This car, huh? There's a story there too… I've had a lot of fun with Hil in it. To be honest, the inside of that car's quite small, though."

His wording was subtle, but we were all adults here. Everyone understood what he was implying.

Blood rushed straight to my head, and I roared, "What the hell do you mean by that?"

Seeing my stormy expression, Shane slowly explained, "I meant just playing and joking around. Where did your mind go, Lucas?"

An odd look flickered across Hillary's face.

"Why are you yelling, Lucas? You startled Shane," she snapped.

Without even realizing it, her right hand rubbed the hem of her shirt. That was a telltale gesture she always made when she was nervous or lying.

No wonder she always came up with every excuse possible to avoid sleeping with me. As it turned out, she'd already gotten her fill elsewhere.

A few classmates, remaining neutral, patted my shoulder and tried to persuade me.

"Come on, Lucas. Don't play anymore. Shane has Hillary helping him, so you can't win. Don't make this any uglier."

I shook my head firmly.

"I'm continuing."

Shane scoffed, looking disdainfully at the car keys.

"I have no interest in this junk of a car. Let's go big.

"If I win, you take your dying mother and put her out of her misery right then and there. How about that?"

The room plunged into deadly silence at his suggestion.

Even a flicker of hesitation crossed Hillary's face, but she merely clenched Shane's hand tightly, not saying a word.

Her silence was consent.

In that moment, I no longer felt anger—only an icy chill spreading through my entire body.

I took a deep breath. "Fine."

I paused, then lifted my eyes to meet Shane's arrogant gaze.

"And if I win, you take your son with leukemia and put him out of his misery too," I added.

"Lucas Murray! Have you lost your mind?" Hillary shot to her feet, her face full of fury. "That's a human life! How can you be so cruel to a child?"

Just seconds ago, Shane had used my mother's life as a wager, and Hillary hadn't said a word. Now, when I retaliated in kind, she exploded in rage.

What? Was Mom's life not a life?

At the end of the day, neither Mom nor I had ever mattered to her. The last shred of hope in my heart was completely extinguished.

Instead, all I felt was a clarity I'd never experienced before.