It was only then that I remembered—I had transferred all of my savings into Hazel’s account when we got married. I told her I wanted to give her a sense of security.

Over the years, I worked day and night, handing over every cent I earned without fail. I never carried more than five hundred dollars in my own pocket.

Back then, I truly loved her.

So why am I so determined to divorce her now?

Probably only three people in the world know the answer to that.

The next morning, I went to the art studio where I teach.

Before I even walked in, I heard my students gossiping about me from inside.

"Mr. Henderson is really heartless, huh? Ms. Olson is like a fairy—so beautiful, so gentle—and she does his laundry and cooking too. What more could he possibly want?"

"Exactly! She’s even terrified of dogs, but she still adopted one just because he likes them. Isn’t that enough proof of love?"

"He’s just spoiled now. Back then, he chased her like a dog. Now that he’s got her, he throws her away!"

I pushed the door open. The students instantly fell silent. No one dared speak further, but their eyes spoke volumes—like they were staring at something filthy and disgusting.

I didn’t bother explaining.

Then I heard Hazel’s voice behind me.

“Alright, everyone, back to your paintings. Mr. Henderson is a good person—it’s me who wasn’t good enough.”

I turned. As expected, she had brought the golden retriever with her.

The students reluctantly dispersed, and the only sound left was the soft brushing of paint against canvas.

“Austin.” She walked up to me with a gentle smile on her face. “As long as you stop talking about divorce, I’ll pretend nothing happened yesterday. Come home early, okay? Lucky and I miss you.”

I stared at her without any expression.

“Is it because I didn’t care for you enough before?” she asked softly. “I’ve changed. Look what I got you.”

She pulled out an elegant wooden box from her bag. “It’s the wolf-hair brush you mentioned liking the other day. I had someone bring it back from Brooklyn. Try it—see if it feels right in your hand.”

One student gasped, “Oh my god, isn’t that handmade by a national heritage master? I heard it’s impossible to get, no matter how much you’re willing to pay!”

“Ms. Olson, you’re way too good to Mr. Henderson. If my future girlfriend is even half as thoughtful as you, I’d count myself lucky.”

“Come on, Mr. Henderson, she’s practically perfect. What else could you possibly want? Be careful or you’ll end up in the classic ‘begging-for-your-wife-back’ cliché.”

I ignored their teasing.

Then, without a word, I took the precious calligraphy brush and tossed it into the trash.

“If it’s a gift for me, then I have the right to throw it away. You’re okay with that, aren’t you?”

Hazel’s eyes instantly turned red. She bit her lip hard, unable to speak through the wave of hurt.

The studio erupted in outrage.

“Are you even human? She gives you her heart and soul and you just stomp on it like that?”

“Anyone who thought you two were some kind of fairytale couple must’ve been blind. You’re not even worthy of her!”

I tuned them all out.

Without another glance, I simply told Hazel to sign the divorce papers as soon as possible, then packed up my art supplies and left.

Her tearful voice echoed behind me.

“Austin! What do you want me to do?! What will it take for you to forgive me? For you to stay?!”

I didn’t look back.

For the next three days, I ignored all her calls and messages.

On the fourth day, my mother called, her tone anxious and sharp. “You little brat, where the hell have you been?! Did you know that Hazel went all the way to Santa Monica Mountain to pray for your forgiveness? She passed out halfway up the trail. Get your ass to the hospital now!”

When I arrived, Leonel—her older brother—was by her bedside. The moment he saw me, he lashed out.

“You’ve got some nerve showing your face here! She climbed that mountain at dawn just to pray for your safety, hiked for six straight hours, and only just regained consciousness!”

When she saw me, Hazel struggled to sit up, forcing a smile despite her pale face.

“Austin, you're here. I got the peace amulet... Please don’t be mad at me anymore, okay?”

Just then, the doctor walked in, holding a test report.

“Congratulations, Miss Olson. You’re four weeks pregnant. As for the fainting episode—it was caused by low blood sugar, so be careful in the future.”

Hazel’s eyes lit up instantly. She grabbed my hand, hopeful and trembling.

“Austin, did you hear that? We’re having a baby. Let’s move on and start fresh, okay?”

I glanced at the golden retriever lying quietly in the corner of the room.

Then I pulled my hand away coldly.

“I don’t want this child. Get rid of it.”

The room instantly fell silent.

Hazel's face went ghostly pale. Her lips trembled, but no words came out.

Leonel’s fists clenched in fury. He slammed his fist into the wall.

“You heartless bastard! That’s your child!”

My mother rushed over and slapped me hard across the face, then collapsed onto the sofa, crying and pounding her leg.

“God must be punishing me. What kind of monster did I raise?”

Hazel broke down completely. Tears streamed down her face like broken pearls.

“You hate me that much? You hate this child that much?”

Expressionless, I nodded.

“We’re getting divorced anyway. This child has no place in that future. I’ll arrange the abortion this week—make sure you go.”

“No! I won’t do it!” Hazel suddenly screamed and shielded her stomach with both hands. “This is my child. I won’t get rid of it—never!”

“Suit yourself,” I said flatly. “But you still have to sign the divorce papers.”

She closed her eyes slowly, and two hopeless tears slid down her cheeks.

“Austin, I’m completely, utterly disappointed in you.”

“You want a divorce? Fine. I’ll sign.”

“Tomorrow noon. At the old house. I’ll be there with the agreement. But if you don’t show up, don’t even dream of divorcing me in this lifetime.”

“Fine,” I said, turning to leave.

That night, when I closed my eyes, that scene replayed again.

It was late, and I had gotten up to use the bathroom. In the dim moonlight, I saw our golden retriever pawing at the bedside drawer.

On top of it was our wedding photo.

As my eyes met the dog, a chill crept through my entire body.

Just then, my phone lit up.

It was a message from Mr. Bowen.

[The dark spell has been broken. You can proceed tomorrow without worry.]

[Thank you, Mr. Bowen. I will repay you someday.]

I turned off my phone and let out a long breath.

After all this time... it was finally about to end.

The next morning, I arrived at the old family house with my lawyer.

As expected, Hazel came—with the golden retriever beside her.

“Austin, you actually came,” she said, her voice tight with excitement she was trying to suppress.

The golden retriever bared its teeth at me, growling lowly from its throat like it was challenging me.

The living room was packed—both sides of the family had shown up.

My parents sat in the center, their faces were as dark as thunderclouds. Leonel stood at the entrance, staring at me like I’d murdered someone.

Several older relatives, distant cousins and uncles, were seated in the traditional wooden armchairs. As I walked in, they all started whispering among themselves.

Leonel scoffed and threw a folder onto the table in front of me.

“You want to divorce my sister so badly? Fine. But you’re walking away with nothing.”

“If you’ve got no objections—sign it.”

No one else said a word. Even my parents remained silent.

In their eyes, I was the one being unreasonable, and I deserved to leave with nothing.

But under everyone's watchful eyes, I finally spoke.

“I do have an objection.”

“The one who should leave empty-handed... is Hazel.”

“You’ve all been wondering why I’m so determined to divorce her.”

“Well then—let me tell you everything. Right now.”

In an instant, the entire old house fell into dead silence.

Everyone’s brows furrowed in confusion and disbelief while a flicker of panic flashed across Hazel’s face.

I curled my lips into a cold smile.

Now the real show was about to begin.

I ran my fingers over the red charm bracelet on my wrist—Mr. Bowen gave it to me yesterday. It had been soaked in cinnabar for 49 days.

My eyes swept across the room. Then I spoke, cold and clear. “The reason I’m divorcing Hazel is exactly because of that golden retriever. That dog is the evidence of her betrayal!”