Because I once blocked a knife meant for Gary Hodge, he has been chasing after me for ten years.

On the day I accepted his proposal, I looked straight into his eyes and said firmly, “Gary, if you ever betray me, I will disappear completely from your world.”

At that moment, he held me tightly and, with tears in his eyes, swore, “Mary Guzman, I will never betray you.”

After we got married, he became a man obsessed with doting on his wife. He insisted on personally handling everything, no matter how small.

When a young, beautiful woman confessed her feelings to him, he was so terrified I might misunderstand that he had her sent out of the country.

To proclaim his love for me to the world, he spent ten years—and half his fortune—building the skyscraper Stars.

Everyone knew how deeply he loved me, and I believed it too.

But for a man like that, when I was three months pregnant, I found freshly opened condoms in his car.

I didn’t hesitate. I canceled my ID, erased every trace of myself, and disappeared entirely from Gary’s world.

So why is it that the one who broke the promise is now the one acting so crazy?

——

Since I became pregnant, Gary personally accompanied me to every prenatal check-up.

The high-powered company president effortlessly managed the smallest tasks, like lining up to pay bills at the hospital.

Even though the baby growing inside me was just a tiny embryo, Gary was overjoyed beyond words. His cheeks would flush red, and his eyes would glisten with unshed tears.

More than once, he’d hold me tightly and exclaim, his voice brimming with happiness, “Mary, am I dreaming? We’re going to have a child of our own.”

I’d always tease him for being silly, laughing at his childlike excitement.

But he would laugh and cry simultaneously, burying his head in the crook of my neck. “Mary, I’m just so happy,” he’d whisper.

I’ve never been good with words, so in those moments, I’d simply hug him back tightly, letting my actions tell him how I felt.

It was him who pulled me out of the darkness—the shadow of my father’s infidelity and my mother’s breakdown that led to her tragic fall.

I believed he was my salvation, my only light in this lifetime.

But recently, things began to change. He was always so busy, leaving early and coming home late.

Not wanting to burden him further, I decided to drive myself to the hospital for a check-up. That’s when I saw it—the box of condoms in his car, freshly opened, with a date that was impossible to ignore.

A single tear slid down my cheek as I sat on the examination table.

The cold gel touched my belly as the doctor cheerfully said, “Mrs. Hodge, it’s surprising Mr. Hodge let you come alone for the check-up today!”

His love for me was so intense that everyone around us knew it. But at that moment, all I felt was bitterness.

I murmured a soft "hmm" in response to the doctor and followed his pointing finger.

As I stared at the tiny embryo on the screen, my voice trembled. “Please help me arrange an abortion.”

…

I had barely arrived home when Gary rushed in right after me, his face tense and full of worry. Seeing me lying quietly on the bed, his shoulders relaxed, and the anxiety drained from his face.

When I opened my eyes, he approached softly, his tone filled with guilt. “I’m sorry, Mary. I’ve been too busy recently. Why didn’t you wait for me to take you to the hospital? But the Mary Building will be finished in half a month. Think of it as my tenth wedding anniversary gift to you.”

His sincerity seemed impossible to fake. Over the years, he’d always been meticulous, blaming himself for the smallest oversights even when I wasn’t upset. And when he did something well, he’d look forward to my praise.

In front of me, he was open and genuine, as if he wanted to bare his heart to me.

But why would someone like him cheat?

My throat tightened painfully. I couldn’t speak, so I just watched him silently.

Uneasy, he asked tentatively, “Which Cullinan did you drive today?”

His nervous gaze brought a bitter ache to my heart.

When the words reached my lips, I whispered, “No, I drove the Audi.”

"That's right," he said with a faint smile. "You’ve never liked being high-profile."

Only then did the tension leave his shoulders. His back finally relaxed, and he stepped closer.

Seeing my weary expression, he pulled me into his arms, his voice soft and full of concern. "Why do you look so bad? Are you tired today?"

It wasn’t from exhaustion. It was because I had taken our child’s life with my own hands.

I didn’t say this aloud; instead, I answered him silently in my mind.

I had always been quiet by nature, and my silence didn’t bother him. He simply smiled warmly and continued, "Thank you for your hard work, wife. I’ll go make your favorite lean meat porridge."

He gently tucked the quilt around me and pressed a kiss on my forehead.

As he turned to leave, I suddenly called out, “Gary.”

He stopped, turning back with a confused "Hmm?"

"What’s wrong, wife?"

"Do you remember what you said when you proposed to me?" I asked, looking calmly into his eyes.

For a moment, I saw panic flicker in his gaze, but he quickly masked it with a firm, gentle smile.

“Of course, I remember. Why? Are you worried your handsome husband will be stolen away?”

"Don’t speak when you see me," I said softly.

He turned back, his expression full of affection, and gently scratched the tip of my nose.

Moments later, he squatted in front of me, raising four fingers. “I swear, Gary will never betray Mary in this lifetime.”

Hearing those words, I clenched my palms tightly, willing the tears not to fall.

Looking into his clear, earnest eyes, I forced a soft smile. “In half a month, it’ll be our tenth anniversary. I have a gift for you too.”

From the bedside table, I retrieved a beautifully wrapped box.

His eyes lit up with joy as he exclaimed, “Stars, this is—”

Before he could tear into it, I gently held his hand. “The tenth-anniversary gift should only be opened on the day itself.”

“You’re right. I was being too impatient,” he said, smiling as he carefully set the box aside.

Then, he went downstairs to cook, closing the door quietly behind him.

As soon as he left, my phone buzzed.

“Ms. Guzman,” a voice said, “I need to remind you again: canceling all identity information will mean completely erasing yourself. This will cause significant inconveniences. Are you sure?”

The sound of cooking drifted upstairs.

For ten years, only Gary had been at home. Despite having a nanny and chef, he had learned to cook every dish I loved, making them himself.

He once said that if I loved him, I should let him feel it.

But now, those moments of happiness have become a source of unbearable pain.

Snapping back to reality, I said with unshakable resolve, “I’m sure. I just want to disappear completely.”

…

After ending the call, exhaustion overtook me, and I drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up, the rich aroma of lean meat porridge filled the air.

I walked out of the room and found Gary in the kitchen. His tall figure leaned against the stove as he stirred the porridge with one hand and used the other to press the voice button on his phone, replying to a message.

A faint smile played on his lips.

Is it her? I tortured myself with the thought.

Sensing my gaze, Gary put down his phone and turned to me.

As soon as I sat at the dining table, he placed the porridge before me.

Carefully picking out the ginger, he blew on it before offering it to me. “It’s ready to eat,” he said tenderly.

I tasted the porridge, its temperature was perfect, but the flavor I once loved now seemed utterly bland.

After dinner, we went to bed.

Even after ten years of marriage, Gary still liked to hold me in his arms as he slept.

Half-asleep and half-awake, I faintly heard Gary’s voice coming from the bathroom, sharp with irritation.

“I told you, don’t call me on this phone. If my wife finds out, you know the consequences,” he said, his tone low but stern.

The stillness of the night made it easy to catch the girl's trembling response. “But no one answered your phone... there’s a power outage here. It’s so dark. I’m scared…”

Gary’s initial anger softened immediately. “Just this once,” he relented, “but don’t let it happen again.”

Moments later, he returned to the bedroom, squatting beside me and speaking gently. “Mary, something urgent came up at work. I need to head out.”

Groggy, I murmured a soft “hmm.”

He gazed at me for a long moment before quietly leaving.

As the door clicked shut, I sat up, wide awake. Without hesitation, I grabbed a coat and took a taxi to follow him.

Fifteen minutes later, his car stopped in front of a high-end residential complex.

At the entrance, a young woman sat curled up, trembling in the cold.

My chest tightened as recognition hit me.

It was Selena Green—the woman who drunkenly confessed to Gary years ago and was sent abroad by him.

Back then, she even tried to befriend me.

I received a private message from her, asking me to give Gary to her. At first, I thought it was just another desperate plea from someone who didn’t understand the situation. I told her to move on—she was young, with a whole life ahead of her, and shouldn’t waste time on a married man.

But over time, her behavior changed. As I grew pregnant, her presence seemed to intensify. Her subtle signs of affection grew more frequently, and I convinced myself she had finally moved on, that she had let go of her feelings for Gary.

But that night, I realized how wrong I was.

Under the dim streetlight, I watched her eyes light up when she saw Gary. Without warning, she threw herself into his arms, locking him in a tight hug and kissing his cheek passionately. “I knew you wouldn’t ignore me,” she said, her voice almost playful.

Gary looked around in panic, trying to free himself, but she clung to him, refusing to let go. Finally, he surrendered, lifting her into his car.

I stood in the shadows, watching them walk into the nearest hotel.

Soon after, my phone buzzed with a text from Gary: [Honey, my wife is being a little troublesome, so I won’t be coming home tonight.]

I stared at the message, my mind numb. Then a tissue blocked my view as I wiped away the tears.

The driver's sister sighed sympathetically. "Just wipe your tears, men are like that."

It was only then that I realized tears had already started streaming down my face.

"Thank you," I muttered, accepting the kindness of a stranger with a polite nod.

On the way home, I leaned my head gently against the car window, the cool glass offering some comfort as my thoughts spiraled.

Selena’s posts felt like a thousand barbs, digging into my flesh. Gary had fallen in love with her—and then still held me in his arms, whispering how much he loved me. What was he thinking?

How could he act so convincingly?

I clutched my chest as the tears came uncontrollably, crashing down like waves. The pain was unbearable—more painful than the knife I took for him when I saved him.

By the time I got home, I opened Selena's scarf.

Of course, there was a new update:

Wooooooohooooooooooo! [Aaaaaah, stinky uncle was way too aggressive—he tore my new shirt, humph!]

Her scarf had countless fans. Soon, comments flooded her post. I stared at the familiar hand and, in silent resignation, gave her a thumbs up using my alternate account.

The deregistration process would take time.

I began to notice every little detail around me, my mind consumed by it all.