On our wedding anniversary, it was also the day my wife Kyra Holmes' childhood friend Alan Rose returned to the country.

I had prepared a feast, but instead of my wife, I received a miscarriage report from Alan.

My gaze trembled as I looked at the name section.

When I saw the name "Kyra," my heart died completely.

Later, I let them be, but my wife regretted it.

***

"Honey, make me a plate of spaghetti."

At midnight, my wife came into the room with a pale face.

She kicked off her high heels lazily, tossed her handbag onto the sofa, and walked into the bathroom, rubbing her lower back and clicking her heels.

After a while, she emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel and, seeing the expected hot noodles missing, noticed the exquisite meal in the trash. She frowned and looked at me with dissatisfaction as I watched TV on the sofa.

"What's this about?"

I ignored her, changing the channel expressionlessly.

Normally, I go to bed by ten, but now my mind was incredibly clear. The laughter on the TV only stirred up my turmoil.

Noticing my mood, Kyra softened her anger, pulled out a high-quality wool sweater from her bag, and stuffed it into my arms, clinging to my arm and sweet-talking me.

"Sorry, honey. I came back too late today and didn't let you know. Consider this my apology. Please don't be mad."

I glanced at the sweater, feeling even more desolate.

It was not in a size I could wear but was a brand that Alan frequently wore, with a lingering scent of Alan's perfume.

It might have just been taken off Alan.

What's worse...

I pushed Kyra away and, with a cold gaze, asked her, "Don't you remember I'm allergic to wool?"

Kyra's face showed a hint of embarrassment as she forced a smile and said, "Oh, I'm sorry, honey. It's my fault for being careless. I'll get you a different gift tomorrow."

"No need. Let's get a divorce."

"What?"

Kyra's expression changed abruptly, her voice rising sharply.

"What are you talking about? You want a divorce over something so trivial?

"I work hard every day to support the family, and because I came back late today and brought the wrong gift, you're pulling this stunt?

"You're useless. Can you live this well without me?"

I was so angry that my hands went numb as I threw the miscarriage report at her face.

She was right; I was indeed a crippled loser.

But she seemed to forget that everything started because of her.

My encounter with Kyra was a coincidence.

My parents died when I was a teenager, and I lived alone in the mountains.

Five years ago, two young and beautiful girls came to visit my area.

They ignored my warnings and insisted on going into the mountains.

As a result, they were attacked by a mother bear with cubs.

One of the girls fell off the mountain and died on the spot.

The other girl scrambled and cried for me to save her behind me.

Although I had weapons, I was still clawed by the mother bear, with a deep wound down to the bone.

Fortunately, I eventually managed to drive the bear family away.

The girl I saved was Kyra.

I broke my right leg, which later became infected, causing intermittent severe pain.

Fearing retaliation from the bear, I had no choice but to move to the city.

With no education and a disability, I couldn't find a suitable job.

Just when I thought I might starve, a well-known local company accepted me.

I became a security guard.

Later, I learned that this company was Kyra's family's.

Kyra, grateful for my rescue, fell in love with the carefree me and insisted on marrying me against her family's wishes.

She even intentionally got me drunk and climbed into my bed.

I swear to take responsibility for this girl for the rest of my life.

I worked for the Holmes family like a servant for three years, finally gaining the approval of her parents.

After marriage, we lived a life where she was the breadwinner and I took care of the home.

At first, it was sweet and happy, but as Kyra's career started to succeed, her attitude towards me changed. A third name—Alan—began to emerge between us.

He and Kyra were childhood friends, and I heard he had pursued her before. He only lost contact after going abroad.

Kyra was naturally frail and had difficulty conceiving. We prepared for a whole year before we finally had this child, but he disappeared on the day Alan returned to the country.

If they really had nothing going on, no one would believe it.

I wasn't one for clinging; if there was no love, I thought it was time I let go.

Kyra kept complaining incessantly. I said nothing and simply threw the miscarriage report in her face.

She was about to get angry, but after seeing the report, she explained indifferently that the miscarriage was just an accident. She had accidentally fallen down the stairs while picking up Alan from the airport, which caused the miscarriage.

I sneered; she didn't even prepare a lie properly.

She probably didn't read it carefully; the report clearly indicated a voluntary abortion.

It was her freedom to pick up Alan, and even if she didn't tell me, it didn't matter. But that was our long-awaited child; she silently gave it up and still wanted to hide it.

If it weren't for that schemer Alan sending me the miscarriage report deliberately, I might have remained in the dark forever.

This was the first time in years that I initiated a cold war.

Given Kyra's spoiled princess temperament, how could she tolerate it?

Seeing that I wasn't responding, she became increasingly impatient.

"What do you mean? Don't you know how tired I am every day? Do you have to make a fuss over such a trivial matter?"

I was truly infuriated. "Trivial? Do you consider murder to be trivial?"

"I've already said that the child's condition was unstable, and the accident today just made it worse. Besides, we can have another one, so why do you have to say such harsh things?"

I looked at the woman in front of me in despair, unable to see her as the same person from two years ago.

The doctor said this might be Kyra's only child due to her health conditions. She must know her own body, and to say such things showed that she clearly didn't care about me at all.

If she didn't want our child, it meant she didn't want me.

My heart was completely dead.

I packed my things. Fortunately, it wasn't much. After two years of marriage, my belongings only filled one suitcase.

"If you agree to the divorce, let's meet at the City Hall at 9 a.m. on Monday."

"Get lost! If you have the guts, die outside!"

As I closed the door, a vase was thrown at me, shattering into pieces.

Over the weekend, I substituted for another security, sleeping in the security booth.

Kyra never made our relationship public at the company and never revealed her married status.

No one would expect a lowly security guard to be her husband.

But soon, I wouldn't be.

After the divorce, I would resign. Even though I had been a stay-at-home husband for years, I never stopped learning.

I completed my high school education through self-study. After resigning, I planned to pursue an adult undergraduate degree. With that educational stepping stone and my skills, I was not afraid of not surviving.