Theodore rushed out of the meeting room when he heard the commotion. He barely glanced at my blood-stained clothes before hurrying to Janice's side, checking her over repeatedly. The glass had left a small cut on her calf, with a faint line of blood visible.

Theodore tenderly wiped the wound with his handkerchief, his eyes full of concern. He asked softly, "Does it hurt?"

Janice blinked her tear-filled eyes and shook her head pitifully. The barely noticeable cut had somehow turned into a dramatic scene of heartbreak and concern between them.

I could not help but laugh, drawing Theodore's attention. When his eyes met mine, the tenderness he had for Janice turned into cold indifference.

"Charlotte Bailey, did you hurt her?" he demanded icily.

I raised an eyebrow and nodded mockingly. "She deserved it."

Before Theodore could respond, Janice burst out, saying, "I'm just pursuing the man I love. What did I do to deserve this? Theo, am I not allowed to love you?"

She had transformed her role as the other woman into some noble pursuit of true love. For a brief moment, her determined gaze was almost convincing enough to move even me.

Theodore smiled and pulled her into his arms. He declared, "No one can tear us apart."

I knew him too well. One look was enough to tell me that he had genuine feelings for her.

He suddenly remembered something and turned to me. "Why are you even here?"

I pointed to the ruined cake on the floor without saying anything more. After all, we had an agreement. Every year, I would bake Theodore a cake on his birthday.

His expression grew unreadable as he gravely said, "Charlotte, help me fulfill my birthday wish this year."

When I disappeared, his only birthday wish was for me to return. Throughout our marriage, his only wish had been that I would not leave. Yet, he had changed because of Janice.

He said, "My wish this year is for you to apologize to Janice."

It was the first time another woman's name had appeared in his birthday wishes. The ringing in my ears returned as my surroundings began to blur. I dug my nails into my palms, using the pain to stay alert.

I forced a calm smile and replied, "I'm afraid that your wish won't come true." Then, I turned to leave.

I wondered if Theodore would regret acting this way if he knew that this was the last birthday I would ever celebrate with him.

I could not remember how I got home. All I remembered was the chaotic noise around me. When I next regained consciousness, I was already in my house.

In my confused state, I wanted to check the time. After searching every corner of the house, I finally found my phone in the refrigerator.

Clearly, my condition was worsening. I took my medication and lay in bed, feeling my eyelids grow heavier.

I comforted myself, thinking, "Just sleep. Everything will feel better when you wake up."

In my hazy state, I felt someone sit beside me, and the familiar cologne scent comforted me. Suddenly, I was back to when I was 18.

Theodore and I had just graduated high school and were accepted into our dream colleges. However, my family was poor, and I had a younger brother to think about. So, my parents had planned to send me to work in a factory to pay for my brother's education.

When I found out, I ran to Theodore, sobbing uncontrollably. I told him to live the life I could not—to study hard and explore the vast world.

Theodore did not say much. He simply gently patted my back. Before we parted, he held my face and made me promise to trust him. I was too distraught to understand his meaning, but after that day, he disappeared.

No matter how hard I searched, I could not find any information about him. Then, on the day before classes started, he appeared at my doorstep with an envelope.

A year's tuition was 3,000 dollars, and hauling bricks at the construction site only paid 50 dollars per load. The envelope did not contain cash but proof of 60 loads of bricks he had hauled. His hands were covered in cuts and blisters, with thick calluses forming on his palms.

I hit his chest with all my strength, crying, "Theodore, are you crazy? How could you do construction work for me? What if you ruined your hands? You have a better future ahead of you!"

My voice broke as I sobbed out the last words. "I'm not worth all this..."

He smiled and wiped away my tears, saying, "Charlotte, you are worth it. I'd give everything for you."

Theodore's gaze was passionate and bright, like a beacon illuminating my entire life. That day was Theodore's birthday, and I had clumsily made him a deformed birthday cake with the flour we had at home.

It was also the day we made that promise to each other. Lost in my dream, I did not want to wake up. I mumbled incoherently.

"Theo…"

"I'm here," a voice answered.

I smiled contentedly, sinking deeper into the dream. "Happy birthday. Let's blow out the candles together."

The clatter of dishes echoed in the kitchen, waking me up. I rubbed my throbbing head and went to investigate, only to find Theodore in the kitchen. He had not been home in a long time because he had a new home with Janice, leaving me alone in this house.

Theodore stood at the stove, wearing an apron, skillfully chopping vegetables as if nothing had changed. Noticing my gaze, he smiled and came over to ruffle my hair, saying, "Go wash up. Dinner's almost ready."

I saw the love in his eyes and slapped his hand away, letting out a derisive laugh. "Theodore, stop acting."

It was sickening to watch someone so familiar yet so distant pretend to be in love. He looked at his reddened hand, and his smile slowly faded.

As I passed the refrigerator, I caught my reflection and stared at the bandage on my forehead in confusion. Looking back at the dining table, I saw the cake covered in candles.

Although it was slightly damaged, I recognized it immediately. It was the one I had taken to his office that day. It was then that I realized it had not been a dream.

When I wished him a happy birthday, he brought back the restored cake. When I suggested blowing out candles together, he had prepared this candlelit dinner.

I wondered what game he was playing at. Was it another scene of lovers quarreling and making up?

I was tired of acting and playing along with Theodore's charades. With that, I swept everything off the table in one motion.

The cake's frosting smeared across the floor as the candlelight flickered out. Theodore's eyes blazed red as he gripped my wrist tightly. He growled, "Charlotte, are you sick in the head?"

I smiled, my eyes crinkling. "Yes, I am sick."

Theodore laughed as if he had heard a joke. He breathed heavily through clenched teeth. However, I wasn't lying to him.

"Do you think it's fun to mess with me?" he asked, his voice laced with anger.

I smirked. "Yes. I love watching you degrade yourself like this. You're pathetic!"

My words struck Theodore like a knife to the heart. He lifted me up and turned, ignoring my kicks and screams. A moment later, he threw me onto the dining table with a loud bang.

The cold glass surface made me shiver. He seemed determined to prove something as he bit at my chest, making me cry out in pain.

I hissed, "Theodore, are you freaking out of your mind?"

His rough hand explored under my nightgown as he gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. I laughed at his state.

As I looked into his eyes, I laughed bitterly. I growled, "No. You're not crazy. You're filthy."

That word shattered what little restraint he had left. He grabbed my throat, his eyes bloodshot as he repeatedly asked, "Why? Why are you treating me like this?

"I waited for you for many years, but you never even spared me a glance. Do you know how happy I was when you said you wanted to celebrate my birthday together?"

He was like a wounded child with tears streaming down his face. I bit my tongue until I tasted blood, barely holding back my own tears. We silently stared at each other in the darkness.

He buried his face into the crook of my neck, desperately inhaling my scent. After a long while, he said hoarsely, "Charlotte, we—"

Just then, his phone rang, cutting through the silence. It was Janice.

He immediately answered the call. The woman's sobs were clearly audible in the quiet night.

"Theo, I'm scared of being alone at home. Can you come back to me? I'm hiding in my room and afraid to go out. I miss you... Theo, do you not love me anymore?"

He comforted her gently while getting up and straightening his clothes. As he headed for the door, he paused and looked back at me.

"Charlotte, do you really have nothing to say?"

"Have a safe trip," I replied flatly.

Theodore left without saying another word, slamming the door behind him. I knew exactly what he wanted to hear.

He wanted me to beg him to stay. But he seemed to have forgotten that I had pleaded with him every time he had abandoned me before this.

"Can't you stay?

"I just want you to be here with me.

"Let's make up."

I had said those three phrases many times, but the answer had always been the same.

"Charlotte, can't you just shut up?" As he wished, I never spoke those words again, and now, I never would.