Five years ago, I gave up my research achievements for love. Then, out of the blue, Marcus Parker's childhood friend made her return to the country. Using the excuse of playing truth or dare, they did everything that couples did together.

I reminded Marcus not to go too far, but he just gave me a helpless look. "Claire, if I really had something going on with Hannah, I wouldn't have married you."

I watched as he chose to abandon saving my mother for Hannah Carter's sake.

He even hung up on me when I got into a car accident. When I woke up again, I learned that my unborn child, who was not three months old, had died in my womb.

I finally gave up all hope and handed him the divorce papers. "Marcus, let's get divorced."

A month later, I boarded a plane bound for Andoria.

"Mark, hurry up and kiss her! That's your punishment! Come on, do it!"

I stood in the doorway, watching my husband, Marcus Parker, use a game of truth or dare as an excuse to passionately kiss his childhood friend through a poker card. My heart instantly plummeted to rock bottom.

If I had not received that anonymous text message, I never would have believed that Marcus, who was always so restrained and proper with me and never touched alcohol, would engage in something like this.

I swallowed the bitter feeling rising in my throat and pushed open the door. "Marcus, what are you doing?"

Hannah Carter suddenly fell to the ground as if startled by my questioning voice. Someone immediately spoke up to criticize me.

"Claire, aren't you being a bit too uptight? It's just a game of truth or dare. It's not real."

Hannah looked at me with rapid, shallow breaths. "Claire, don't blame Mark for this. It's my fault. I lost the game, so he drank and played along with me..."

Hannah was Marcus' childhood friend, and she was born with asthma. She was abroad for treatment for nearly ten years before recovering enough to return home.

Seeing Hannah's asthma attack triggered by her attempt to explain, Marcus angrily turned to me. "Claire, why did you have to burst in like that? Are you happy now that Hannah's having an asthma attack?"

He then spoke to Hannah in a gentle, soothing tone. Hannah tugged at his sleeve playfully. "I'll only feel better if you personally peel me an apple, Mark."

Marcus patiently peeled an apple for her, but Hannah kept making demands and getting in his way. With all her fussing and interference, Marcus ended up cutting his hand—the same hand he was always so careful to protect.

Hannah let out a cry, her voice full of concern but tinged with excitement. "Oh no, Mark! Your hand is hurt. What about your surgery tomorrow?"

"It's fine, I'll have a colleague cover for me." Marcus' casual words made my face instantly go pale.

He had forgotten that tomorrow was my mom's final surgery that came with high risks. With the help of my published research findings, he became the only person in the city capable of performing my mom's operation.

"Marcus, have you forgotten that tomorrow is my mom's surgery?"

I asked Marcus, my face deathly pale. After losing my father as a teenager, my mom raised me alone. She had even used all her life savings to buy us a house next to Marcus' research institute, just so he could focus on his research and help more people.

If I had not suffered that miscarriage and developed postpartum depression, I never would have handed over my hard-earned research results to him. I had only relented so that he could skillfully save my mom when she fell critically ill.

He immediately looked guilty. "Claire, this was just an accident. Even with my hand injured, I can still—"

Before he could finish, Hannah had already found a bandage from somewhere and was stopping the bleeding on Marcus' hand. Her clumsy movements made Marcus look at her with tender affection, but when he moved his gaze back toward me, it burned with anger.

"Even with my injured hand, I can still complete the surgery!"

Hannah leaned weakly against him, comforting him by saying, "Mark, don't be angry. How could Claire understand? She never studied medicine."

After my father died saving me in that car accident, I developed a condition that made me faint at the sight of blood. Marcus knew this perfectly well, yet he still humiliated me in front of everyone.

"She faints at the sight of blood. How could she possibly hold a scalpel?"

As if to spite me, he deliberately drank a lot more alcohol. Marcus had never been much of a drinker, and after finishing an entire bottle, there was no way he could perform surgery tomorrow.

Just then, my aunt, who was caring for my mom, called. "Claire, something terrible has happened. Your mother has gotten worse..."

"Aunt Jane, wait for me. I'm coming right over..."

Aunt Jane's crying made everything go blank. Marcus, despite all the alcohol, went pale too. He reached for me but lost his balance, crashing into Hannah instead. Their lips collided.

"Mark, you... Claire, please don't get the wrong idea. We didn't mean for that to happen..."

I stared at the scene before, tears welling up in my eyes. Finally, I ran out.

As I rushed to the hospital, I called everyone I could think of. When I reached the last person on my list, I hesitated. It was my mentor, who had been furious about my decision to abandon my research and had not spoken to me since.

I did not know if she had changed her number, but thinking of my critically ill mother, I gritted my teeth and dialed it anyway.

"So, you actually remember my number?" Her familiar voice came through, and I immediately broke down.

"Professor Brown, could you help me find a cardiac specialist? My mom's condition is critical, and Marcus, he..."

"I can try to contact someone for you, but I can't guarantee anything."

After tearfully thanking Professor Brown, I rushed to the hospital. But by then, it was too late.

"I'm very sorry, Ms. Bennett. Your mother's condition deteriorated too suddenly... We did everything we could."

My legs gave out, and I collapsed to the floor. "How could this happen? My mom's condition was stable. How could it suddenly get worse?"

I walked to the morgue to see my mom, feeling all the life drained out of me. Her face still showed traces of pain. Had she been in agony when it happened?

My heart ached terribly, but I still managed to complete all the necessary paperwork with the hospital staff's guidance. As I watched my mom get cremated, tears finally fell.

The two most important people in my life were both gone now. I returned home carrying my mom's urn, finally giving up on Marcus completely.

"Professor Brown, I'm willing to join the medical research project next month."

Just as I was replying to Professor Brown's message, I heard a woman's laughter coming from inside the house. I hurried over and found Marcus playing with Hannah in our pool!

"Marcus, what are you doing?"

While I was dealing with everything alone, my husband was here fooling around with Hannah in our home, completely ignoring my mom!

When he saw me, his expression became unnatural. "Hannah's pregnant. I'm just keeping her company. Besides, your mother's illness isn't going to kill her anytime soon."

As he spoke, he noticed the urn in my hands. "What's that?"

"What else could it be? It's just a prop to scare you." Hannah scooped up pool water and splashed it at me.

I instinctively dodged but could only block some of the water.

"Hannah, stop! This isn't a prop! This is my mom's urn!"

"What urn? You're just jealous that I'm playing with Mark. Fine, I won't play with him today, okay?"

She climbed out of the pool and tried to grab my arm. Without thinking, I pulled away.

Hannah let herself fall to the ground, her eyes turning red. "Claire, if you have a problem with me, just say so. Why did you have to push me?"

Marcus noticed her scraped knee and flew into a rage. "Claire, you've gone too far! How could you treat a pregnant woman like this?"

I tried explaining, but it only made Marcus angrier.

"Another urn story, Claire? If you're going to lie, at least make it believable! Since you insist this is an urn..."

He grabbed my mom's urn and smashed it on the ground. "Let's see what's really in here!"

The broken shards mixed with pool water, washing away the ashes. I fell to my knees, frantically trying to save what remained of the ashes, but there was nothing left.

"Mom, how could this happen?" I broke down sobbing. My grief seemed to catch Marcus off guard.

That was when Hannah, still sitting on the ground, spoke up with feigned hurt. "Claire, you don't need to put on such a show just to avoid apologizing to me. Your mother has professional caregivers watching her. How could she suddenly die?"

Marcus snapped back to attention, looking at me with even more disgust. "Claire, you're getting more unreasonable by the day! Hannah, let's go. If she wants to put on a show, let her do it by herself!"

…

Over the next few days, I handled my mom's funeral alone. All our mutual friends tactfully avoided asking about Marcus' whereabouts. He had angrily told off everyone who called asking about my mom's death.

As if to spite me, he posted intimate photos with Hannah all over social media.

Twenty-five days before I was supposed to leave for the research program, I was walking in a daze and did not notice a car speeding toward me. After getting hit, I acted on my survival instincts and immediately called Marcus for help.

"Claire, you've got some nerve calling me. Are you still playing this game? Was it fun making all my friends attend a fake funeral?"

Even now, he did not believe my mom had died.

I had no strength to explain further and only managed to rasp, "Help... Help me, Marcus. I've been in an accident..."

That familiar warm flow came again, and a terrible thought crossed my mind.

"What? I'm coming right over. Where are you?"

Marcus was about to get up when he heard Hannah's pitiful voice. "Mark, Claire wouldn't be calling on purpose to stop you from taking me to my prenatal appointment, would she?"

Marcus paused, his voice clearly laced with anger. "Claire, stop this nonsense!"

…

When I woke up again, I was greeted by a nurse with a regretful expression. "Ms. Bennett, I'm sorry. We couldn't save your baby."

Even though I had sensed it, I was still devastated.

I had supported Marcus from obscurity to his current success, but it meant nothing compared to Hannah's single complaint. My mom had spent all her savings to support him, only to have him smash her urn, thinking it was a joke. Even our unborn child never got the chance to be born.

Looking at Marcus' various affectionate photos with Hannah, I called my lawyer, Nathan Brooks. "I need you to draft a divorce agreement."