The seventh anniversary of our marriage, also my birthday.

My wife was away on a business trip and didn't come back, she only ordered a mango cake for me.

The moment I smelled the mango, I put on a mask and threw the cake into the garbage station downstairs.

After taking an anti-allergy medicine, I went home and sent the signed divorce agreement to Harlow Moore.

The next morning, she video-called me,

"River didn't know you're allergic to mangoes, you always like to make a fuss about nothing, it's very annoying."

She was wearing the sexy lingerie I bought for her, casually lying next to a shirtless River Davies, not feeling anything inappropriate.

"Let's divorce then, I'll never bother you again!"

"Whatever you like!"

Harlow rolled her eyes indifferently and hung up the video.

I saw her again a month later.

"Cook me some stomach-nourishing food, my stomach hurts."

This month, under the guise of a business trip, she traveled with River to beautiful places, and surprisingly, she remembered to come home.

Six years after marriage, we were harmonious and loving. However, when we were preparing for IVF, her mother remarried River's father.

The siblings without blood ties gradually developed feelings for each other, leading to a misunderstood boyfriend-girlfriend relationship.

Harlow always insisted that they were just relatives.

I thought the first thing Harlow would do when she came home after I proposed a divorce was to process it with me.

But, she pulled her suitcase open and pushed it in front of me,

"Your gift, all handmade by me."

I had already seen her so-called handicrafts on River's social media and felt disgusted.

I'm not blind, I could tell at a glance that the items in the box were River's defective products, and the ones on River's social media were perfect pieces handmade by Harlow.

The attentive me even saw the love heart with two birds hit by one arrow carved by Harlow on those perfect pieces.

This was a pattern that she used to carve only for me.

Now, the handicrafts in the box no longer have any marks that belong solely to me.

I'm just like these defective products, an object that has been discarded.

I sat on the sofa, lazily glanced at her, and didn't get up to kiss her as usual, nor did I rush to the kitchen to make her stomach-nourishing meal.

She has a delicate body, and if she eats too much greasy food outside, she will inevitably have stomach discomfort.

Harlow was lying on the sofa, seeing me not moving for a long time, her eyebrows immediately furrowed,

"Barnaby, my stomach hurts, didn't you hear?"

"I'm not a doctor, I can't cure diseases."

My voice was calm, without any waves of reunion after a short separation.

Harlow's turning neck suddenly stiffened,

"What are you making a fuss about again?"

"Isn't it just because I didn't come back to celebrate your birthday due to work? Birthdays happen every year, I can make it up to you, do you need to be angry for so long?"

It seemed that she didn't understand why I was angry.

She thought giving me a month's time would be enough for me to continue serving her humbly after enduring her indifference.

The cold war was Harlow's ultimate weapon.

If she really went on a business trip alone, and neglected me for work, why not continue to serve her?

Unfortunately, she didn't know that River had shared their entire month's itinerary on Facebook.

How I got River's Facebook account, of course, is the cunning him, sent to me from an unknown number.

While they were enjoying their world, I was alone in the hospital enduring the torment of illness.

This month, she really only had three days for work.

The rest of the time, they were on a romantic journey.

In those photos, the ring on Harlow's finger was not a wedding ring, but a matching ring she shared with River.

My gaze fell on Harlow's finger, there was a faint mark on her middle finger.

It seemed that she just took it off not long ago.

And her empty ring finger was mocking me, I don't even have the ability to make my wife wear a wedding ring.

"I'm not angry."

Harlow gave me a quick glance, noticing that I was truly as calm as still water, harboring no resentment.

Her slender arms wrapped around my neck like a vine,

"Honey, I knew you're the best, I really want to have the porridge you cook..."

Her soft touch failed to stir any desire in me.

Instead, the faint hint of cologne on her, made my breath hitch.

It was the scent that River loved.

I grabbed her arm, pulling it off me,

"If you want to eat, cook it yourself."

Harlow, who was about to cling onto me, froze on one side.

She angrily kicked her suitcase hard.

The already fragile handmade items inside shattered into pieces under the force.

Much like our fragile marriage.

Her eyes reddened, she asked me icily,

"I'm giving you one last chance, are you sure you won't cook the porridge for me?"

This was her way of giving me an out, ordinarily, I would never upset her to this extent.

In serving Harlow, I dare say I was the king of sycophants, no one dared to compete with me.

I was famous in her circle as the "Gigolo King".

I accepted this ironic and insulting title with grace.

The past me and Harlow were deeply in love, I didn't care about these titles.

But now, I don't want to be the Gigolo King anymore.

I glanced at Harlow, who was on the verge of rage, and quickly shook my head.

"You can ask River to cook for you."

This statement, undoubtedly, lit the fuse. Harlow picked up the drink I had put on the coffee table and splashed it on my face,

"Barnaby, are you having a mental breakdown again?"

If she paid a bit more attention, she would notice that I was indeed having a mental breakdown.

The drink trickled down the brim of my hat, the wet hat made me extremely uncomfortable.

As I took off my hat, Harlow's face froze for a moment, then filled with rage,

"Are you sick? Shaving your head for no reason, even drawing on a scar? In two days it's my daughter's birthday, how can you attend her birthday party looking like this? Or are you trying to gain sympathy with these despicable means?"

So, the reason she came back was not because she was bored, but because she remembered she had a daughter with an unknown biological father.

Harlow was truly blind and ignorant, why would she think the scar on my head, winding like a centipede, was makeup?

Her shrill voice made my eardrums ache as if they were about to burst.

Or perhaps, it was heartache that made every part of my body hurt.

The woman who once cried for half a day out of concern for me when I accidentally burned myself while cooking for her, was gone.

Along with her love for me.

I calmly picked up a tissue, gently wiped the water off my head, involuntarily gasping when I touched the cut.

"I don't need anyone's sympathy! Especially not yours!"

My statement, in Harlow's ears, sounded sarcastic.

"Barnaby, are you trying to make a scene? Then don't show up at Lacey's birthday party."

She was always like this, threatening me with our daughter in a few words.

My relationship with Lacey is deep, Harlow can't easily manipulate that.

"The daughter I raised with my own hands, it's not your place to make decisions for her!"

It didn't matter if Harlow didn't love me, Lacey definitely wanted me to celebrate her birthday with her.

A tender fatherly love involuntarily surfaced on my face.

Perhaps I smiled too smugly, Harlow threw a bucket of cold water on me,

"Have you forgotten? Lacey is my child, she has nothing to do with you!"

When she was humiliated by others, I saved her by getting beaten to the point of having a cerebral hemorrhage.

After I called the police for her, she didn't dare tell her family.

When she found out she was pregnant, the doctor told her that if she had an abortion, she would never be able to become a mother again.

She was about to jump off the roof of the hospital, and I happened to be on the roof getting some air.

How could I save someone with my life, only to watch them die in front of me?

After saving her, my long-held feelings for her could no longer be hidden.

I confessed my love to her, and even gathered the courage to hold her hand in the face of the storm from the Moore family.

My love and tolerance for her and Lacey had become the weapons she used to hurt me.

Was she mocking me for being eager to play the role of a father?

I wasn't some ninja turtle, I didn't care if others insulted me, but what right did Harlow have to quarrel with me?

"You're right, she's not my biological child anyway. Let's get divorced quickly. You can find a new father for Lacey, or you can find her biological father!"

Perhaps recalling that embarrassing memory, my unexpected sarcastic behavior left Harlow stunned.

She stabbed my heart, and I would puncture her lung tube. What happened back then is her nightmare!

Over the years, I had been carefully protecting her, nurturing her with love, afraid that she would wake up in cold sweat from her nightmares.

I had hurt her so much, she must have been furious enough to divorce me immediately.

I'd almost imagined the scene of the coming storm, but Harlow just bit her lip and didn't move.

It seemed she was holding back something big. If that was the case, then let the storm come even more violently.

I pointed to the divorce agreement on the table, handed her a pen with anticipation, but she didn't take it.

She just impatiently walked towards the kitchen.

After failing to find any pre-made meals in the refrigerator, Harlow's anger could no longer be contained,

"Barnaby! What have you been doing this past month? The refrigerator is empty! Are you deliberately trying to make our lives miserable?"

I was taken aback; did she still want to make things work with me?

"I've been waiting for you to come back and divorce!"

She didn't divorce me when I touched her sensitive spot just now. Now that the refrigerator is empty, it's just me withdrawing a bit of my love, and she's angry and disappointed.

In order to ensure she always had something to eat when she was hungry, despite my busy work, I would make time every week to prepare some pre-made meals for her.

Of course, most of the time, these pre-made meals ended up in my stomach.

Harlow always ate the fresh meals I cooked.

...

My words echoed in the silent living room.

Now, she, as proud as she was, should agree to sign, right?

Under my eager gaze, she angrily grabbed the pen, but hesitated at the signature line.

I even felt like joking,

"After the divorce, you can move into the Davies family's house."

Harlow abruptly tore up the divorce agreement.

"So after all this, you're just jealous! I've said countless times, River and I are family without any blood relation. You can forget about the divorce!"

As I regretted my loose tongue, Harlow's video call rang.

"Mom, I want to ask you for a birthday gift!"

Hearing Lacey's soft voice, my heart instantly melted.

I eagerly craned my neck to see Harlow's phone screen, but she glared at me and turned her phone completely away from me.

During this month of illness, I didn't dare to video call Lacey, fearing I would scare her.

Now hearing her voice, I couldn't control my desire to bring her home immediately.

"Sweetie, as long as you want it, Mom will fulfill it!"

"Mom, I want Mr. Davies to be my dad! He's much more fun than Dad!"

My soft heart instantly hardened.

I forgot that River was the son of Mrs. Moore's new husband.

Technically, River and Harlow were family.

And my daughter Lacey was currently living in the Davies family's large courtyard.

That wretched River, not only did he steal my wife, but now he was trying to take my daughter too!

This was too much!

"Baby, you can't just choose a new dad! In a few days, Mom and Dad will celebrate your birthday together, okay?"

Hearing Harlow mention me as the father, my heart, which was hurt by Lacey, came back to life.

I was eagerly waiting to hear Lacey's cheer.

But Lacey said in a mature tone,

"I don't want to! I don't like Daddy anymore! The other kids said Daddy doesn't love me anymore, that's why he left me with Grandma!"

Originally, I was worried that I wouldn't be able to take care of Lacey properly while I was hospitalized for surgery, so I made up an excuse for Mrs. Moore to take care of Lacey.

As a result, in just a short month, she turned against me.

"So, I want Mr. Davies to be my Daddy!"

The innocence of a child's words was enough to chill me to the bone.

Sure enough, if she wasn't my own, no matter how much I raised her, she never felt like my own!

What was even more heartbreaking was that Harlow had agreed with Lacey's request with a smile.

"Since my baby likes Mr. Davies so much, let's let Mr. Davies be Lacey's godfather!"

My emotions were like a roller coaster.

At this moment, it felt like I had plunged into the abyss.

I thought I heard the sound of something shattering to pieces.

Harlow glanced at me provocatively out of the corner of her eye.