Late at night, my husband came home with a young model.

"So, you are the washed-up wife that Mr. Dawson keeps at home?"

The girl looked at me with a mocking smile and said.

Jay Dawson, my husband, reeking of alcohol, glanced between us with interest. He then hugged the young girl and led her into the bedroom.

I sat alone on the living room couch, wrapped in a blanket, and listened to their shameless noises all night.

I endured it for two years.

Our agreement had finally ended this year, and so had my love for Ethan.

I walked away. But Ethan chased after me like a madman.

Jay Dawson and I were married for six years. Back then, the news about his family forcing him to get married was all over the place.

He would rather marry a random woman in a hospital than follow his family's plan.

That random woman was me.

"There were so many people in that hospital. Why did you choose me?" I asked him once.

"It's because you cried the hardest. You looked easy to control," he replied.

Jay was right. He controlled me for six full years.

I had no parents, so my grandmother raised me. I thought I could give her a better life once I graduated and started working.

However, before that, she fell into the final stage of cancer, and it was Jay who paid for her expensive treatment.

After that, we became husband and wife in name only.

…

The next morning, Jay walked out of the bedroom shirtless, his hair messy and eyes still heavy with sleep. He headed straight for the bathroom.

A moment later, the young model from last night followed him out. She wore my black silk nightgown.

She plopped down next to me and scanned through me with her eyes curiously.

"How was last night? Enjoy the show?"

I ignored her, but she kept talking anyway.

"This silk feels amazing. You must have a good life with such a rich husband, but I guess you won't enjoy it much longer. Mr. Dawson is crazy about me."

To prove it, she pulled down her robe to show the red marks on her shoulder.

I glanced for just a second before looking away.

Her pale skin made the bruises stand out. My reaction made her even bolder, leaning closer.

"Let me guess. He's never done this to you, has he? Men love young, pretty girls. Don't you agree, sweetheart?"

The water in the shower stopped. Jay came out with his hair wet.

"What are you doing, Ivy? Go wash up," he said.

Her name was Ivy Grey. Her voice, her appearance—it all felt oddly familiar.

Jay stood there and stared at me, as if surprised I had not brought him his ironed suit or set breakfast on the table.

He sat down, tapped his fingers on the table, then looked at me with a smirk.

"Are you jealous, Rachel? Is this your way of showing you're mad at me?" Jay asked.

I said nothing. I just stared at him.

I really was grateful to Jay in the beginning. He had helped me when I needed it most. Even though my grandmother passed away in the end, I still thanked him.

That was why I agreed to the contract marriage.

I took care of his life hoping that he would understand my feelings one day, yet he never changed.

After four years of marriage, he started fooling around with other women.

Even when I saw lipstick stains on his shirt and smelled perfume on his sleeves, he showed no guilt.

When I questioned him, all I got in return was his icy-cold response.

"You have no right to ask."

Later, he started bringing women right into our home.

…

Ivy sat on his lap, looking sweet and spoiled.

Jay slowly fed her soup with a spoon, then turned to look at me.

"Rachel, I've already been patient with you."

"Stop being unreasonable."

"This is the last year, Jay."

Jay froze for a second. He clearly did not understand what I meant. I turned and walked into the bedroom.

The bed was a mess, and their clothes were scattered across the floor.

I should have moved out of that room a long time ago, but Jay would not allow it.

He wanted me to clean up the mess he made with other women, as if it was his way of punishing me.

I wondered what I did to deserve such humiliation.

What I did was merely love someone I should not have. I clung to a marriage that was never meant to last.

The pain had lasted so long that it turned into numbness.

All I wanted was the agreement to end in a week. After that, I would finally be free.

I opened the closet to start packing my things. I pulled out the wedding dress that had been hanging in the corner for years.

It was not really a wedding dress. Just a simple white fitted gown.

We got married in a rush. After getting the marriage certificate, Jay brought me—still wearing that dress—to have dinner with his parents.

That was our wedding.

He casually picked out the dress from a luxury store, and I had kept it for six years.

Jay followed me into the room and asked, "What do you mean, Rachel? Say it clearly."

He saw me staring at the dress, deep in thought, and suddenly remembered its meaning.

He cleared his throat. "Forget it. Ivy wants to go shopping. Take her."

I refused him right away. "I don't have time. Let the driver take her."

Jay grabbed my arm and pulled me around roughly.

He then lowered his voice and threatened, "Rachel, I paid for everything. You'll do as I say."

His grip hurt.

I yanked my arm away and replied, "I can work. I can take care of myself."

Jay's anger turned into a mocking laugh. "You've been a housewife for six years. What kind of job can you land? I'll freeze your card if you refuse."

I inspected the red marks on my arm as he left.

I walked out of the room. Ivy stood at the door like she owned the place, kissing Jay goodbye.

His hands roamed all over her, making her giggle.

"I thought you were running late. You need to go," she teased.

Jay smiled and kissed her forehead, but when he glanced at me before walking out, his eyes were cold and sharp.

That look warned me to stay in line.

I shivered. I remembered how he used to punish me when I disobeyed, but I was ready.

That would be Jay's last chance to threaten me.

After he left, Ivy walked over with the car keys in her hand and said with a mocking smile, "Mr. Dawson is really clingy, isn't he? Do you agree, sweetheart?"

Ivy raised an eyebrow.

I snatched the keys from her and walked to the garage without a word.

Ivy followed behind me, calm and carefree, then sat in the back seat like I was her personal driver.

When we neared the mall, she leaned forward suddenly and asked, "Why are we on this road? I told you I wanted to go to M Mall."

Then, she let out a mocking laugh.

"Don't tell me you're taking me to some cheap place. What, do you really think you're Mr. Dawson's wife? Are you jealous that I'm spending his money? That's hilarious. You don't really think getting married means his money became yours too, do you?"

Ivy kept yapping in my ear. Her reason for staying with Jay was obvious.

I ignored her and kept driving, which seemed to annoy her even more.

She reached for the wheel all of a sudden and yelled, "Take me to M Mall! Do you think you're better than me?"

"What are you doing? Are you trying to kill us both?"

We almost crashed into another car because she grabbed the steering wheel.

Ivy did not care. She tried to grab it again, but I was not fast enough to stop her.

The car swerved wildly on the road. Suddenly, a large truck appeared from the opposite direction.

The truck had just turned the corner when our car slammed into it with a loud bang.

The impact knocked me out. In the haze, I heard Jay's worried voice.

"Are you okay, Ivy?" he asked anxiously.

Ivy cried, "It was all Rachel's fault! She wasn't driving properly."

I was sent to the hospital right away. When they wheeled me into surgery, I was the only one there.

I signed the surgical consent form myself.

Luckily, my injuries were not too serious, so I could still take care of myself. If I had been in worse shape, the hospital would have had to call my family.

I laughed bitterly in my mind. Jay would never come to take care of me.

The nurses whispered among themselves, saying that a rich, handsome CEO had brought in a top surgeon just to treat his wife's little wound.

"He's so good to his wife," one of them said.

"She must be so happy being married to a man like that."

I laid back on the hospital bed and pulled the blanket over myself. I finally had my first good sleep in a week.

During the days I stayed in the hospital, Jay never visited me.

He did call once, just to accuse me of attempted murder.

His voice exploded through the phone, filled with rage.

"You're insane, Rachel! You could've killed someone! Ivy almost died because of you. Stay in the hospital and reflect on what you did. If you pull something like that again, I won't hesitate to send you to a psych ward!"

Ivy must have twisted the whole story and played the victim perfectly in front of him, but I did not care anymore.

She used Jay's social media to post her own photos and updates—candlelight dinners, luxury vacations and business banquets. She said it was compensation by Jay for her injuries.

Ivy was trying to make me jealous, but it did not work. I was not bothered anymore.

I had something more important than a man—my career.

Back then, I had poured all my energy into making Jay love me. Maybe I had won a little affection from him for a while.

However, Jay was a playboy. It did not take long for him to leave me behind.

I gave up my profession because of him. Luckily, my college friend, Leeya Chester, had always kept in touch.

With her help, I tried to launch a few original product designs in the industry. The feedback was pretty good.

Leeya had invited me to work with her years ago, but I was demotivated by Jay back then.

I finally had the courage to start again.

During my hospital stay, Leeya visited me every day. She always came full of energy, cheering me on.

"Don't worry, Rachel. Whatever product we design together, we'll crush it. Mark my words. In five, no, three years, you'll be one of the top designers out there."

I sent her the product ideas I had in mind and some early sketches. She looked through them, her eyes lighting up again and again.

"You doing housework all these years is such a waste of talent. Jay has no idea what he threw away."

I smiled. That marriage had cost me a lot, but I had to admit that Jay kept his promise.

I replied, "Anyway, I don't regret it. Grandma wouldn't have survived if it wasn't for him. I would've lived in pain for the rest of my life."

There were only two days left until the agreement ended. Soon, I would walk away from all of that.

Jay called me on the day I was discharged. He had just returned from his trip.

"Are you still sick or something? The butler said you haven't come home in a week. Are you running away from home now?"