The next day, I didn't mention anything about the video nor the marriage certificate.

Terrence was peeling an orange for me, his head lowered as he focused on the task at hand. He always took tasks like this carefully, after all.

Looking at his lowered head, I asked calmly, "Who is Mia, really?"

His hands didn't pause, only lifting a slice of orange to my lips. "Didn't I already tell you? I couldn't sleep because I missed you, so I found a psychologist."

His tone was indulgent, like a lover who was coaxing a woman who was being unreasonable. It was soft, gentle, and completely patronizing. "Don't think too much about it, alright? My heart has been yours for thirty years by now, so where could I go?"

I didn't reply.

His smile waned slightly, but he still maintained his gentle demeanor.

The next afternoon, I sat on the sofa, flipping through an old photo album of us.

After thirty years, we'd had a giant collection of photos, filled with our smiles in each and every one.

Suddenly, a loud crash came from downstairs, followed by Terrence's furious roar.

The very next second, my bedroom door was kicked open. The man, who had just that morning swore his heart belonged to me, now stood in the doorway, eyes bloodshot.

Lunging forward, he grabbed me by the throat, yanking me off the sofa.

"Where did you take her?!"

His strength was terrifying, and I was dragged into the cold and dark basement without any chance to retaliate.

The stench of mold hit me, and I was thrown onto a metal surgical chair. Belts lashed around my wrists and ankles, strapping me down brutally.

Harsh white light shone down on me, reflecting off the tray of metallic surgical instruments that were placed right next to me.

Picking up a thick, long needle meant for blood extraction, he waved it in front of my eyes. "Did you forget that I sold my blood for you, back then? Those people told me that 27 ounces of blood could be drawn from a healthy adult, and they would still survive."

He pinched my jaw, forcing me to look at him. His voice was soft, like a demon whispering from the depths of hell.

"Tell me… Where did you bring Mia? If you don't tell the truth, I will draw out each and every drop of the blood I sold for you…"

Seeing the crazed gleam in his eyes, I smiled. "Is she that important to you, Terrence?"

Panic flashed through his eyes, but it was quickly overshadowed by something monstrous and terrifyingly violent.

"What are you playing at? Are you trying to make me feel guilty?"

Not saying another word, he stabbed the cold needle into my arm.

I could do nothing but look helplessly as my warm blood was drawn up through the clear needle. The measure had long since passed 27 ounces, but he didn't show any sign of stopping.

My field of vision was already starting to go dark, and I felt energy and warmth being drawn out of my body mercilessly.

Along with it, went any last vestiges of lingering affection I had, left from the thirty years we spent together.

And so, I passed out again.

When I woke up again, I faced a white ceiling, the overwhelming scent of disinfectant, and the inside of my arm, bruised and swollen from being punctured.

I wasn't dead.

In the room next door, I heard Mia's delicate sobs.

"Terrence, I was so scared… I just wanted to go out for a walk, I didn’t expect to faint from low blood sugar. I didn’t mean to make you worry…”

Terrence's voice followed, tender and full of concern. "It's my fault for not protecting you, silly. Don't worry, everything's alright now."

By the two, two nurses whispered to each other:

"Mrs. Shaw really is the apple of Mr. Shaw's eye, huh? She only fainted from low blood sugar, and he booked the entire VIP floor!"

"Right? And he even asked the doctors to draw blood from another patient as a precaution… True love, huh?"

"Who's that woman, anyway?"

"The one in this ward, of course! I hear that Mr. Shaw paid for her to stay here too… Rich people and their weird connections, huh?"

Listening to this, I laughed.

So it was low blood sugar?

He drew so much of my blood for another woman, all because she had low blood sugar?

Plucking the IV from my hand, I got out of bed barefoot.

Step by step, I walked to their hospital ward, and the door was left slightly agape.

Through the gap, I saw Terrence holding Mia, kissing her forehead. "Don't worry, my love, I'll never let you suffer again…"

All I could see was Mia nuzzling into his chest, before I heard soft, breathy gasps of two people who could no longer hold themselves back.

Those hands that have protected me so many times in the past were now under her hospital gown.

Ignoring the air, thick with desire, I turned around and walked back to my room with so much as a change in expression.

There, I took out an envelope that I'd prepared much earlier, filled with a stack of cash—the exact amount he earned for me back then by selling his blood.

I even included the amount of money incurred by interest and inflation after all the time that had passed.

Then, I took off the platinum ring he bought for me with the money he first earned by underground fighting, and placed it next to the envelope on the bedside table.

And with that, I had paid every debt I owed him.

Turning around, I left that nauseating building step by step, to my mother's car which was parked downstairs.

She didn't ask a thing, seeing my frighteningly pale complexion and emotionless expression, only handing me a brand-new phone.

Along with the sound of the engine flaring to life…

Tanya Reeds was no more.