After work, I came back home tired, only to see Mark Hill hugging his ex-girlfriend Dora Moore intimately, and the people around them were constantly cheering.

"Dora, today is your birthday. I can fulfill any wish you have!" Mark said loudly in front of everyone.

Then Dora pointed at me and said with a smug grin, "I want you to stick her in the ground."

Mark dragged me to the yard outside without hesitation, pressed my face into the mud and rubbed it repeatedly.

While doing it, he smiled and asked Dora, "Hahaha, are you satisfied now?"

***

"No, hahaha, try harder. So funny!"

Her laughter lingered in my ears.

Of course, Mark's friends were also laughing, and many of them were even taking pictures with their mobile phones.

"Haha, I have to record this and post it online now. As the vice president of Shermine Group, she was rarely embarrassed like this!"

That piece of land was where I planted flowers in the past, and there were still some dead branches in the soil, so my face was immediately scratched with countless wounds, and blood slowly flowed out from those wounds.

But I didn't feel any pain at all, because at that moment, it seemed like some part of my body had died.

I slowly shook off the dirt and dead branches that were clinging to my head.

I was not angry, and I was even surprisingly calm. I stared at Mark as if I was staring at the air.

"Hahaha, come on, today is Dora's birthday. Go clean up. Dora and I just made a bet, and I lost. She said she wanted you to watch us kiss passionately for ten minutes."

Mark still had a cheerful look on his face, as if what had just happened and what he was saying now were just a little joke.

I ignored him and just walked up to the second floor woodenly.

I returned to the bedroom and closed the door. My eyes instantly became wet.

Mark and I were classmates in college. He was the most handsome boy on campus. I always considered it a great honor for me to be with him.

Maybe deep down, in order to bridge the gap between us, I was like a simp to treat him after we got together.

He wanted to release an album, so I sold the gold bracelet my mother left me.

He wanted to concentrate on music, so I worked hard to support the family and paid for his musical instruments, which cost tens of thousands of dollars.

He made a lot of friends and they always made a mess in the house. In the end, I was the one who quietly cleared up the mess.

Even he and Dora had an unclear relationship, I pretended not to see it.

As long as he was happy, I didn't mind that.

But I never thought that my tolerance and flattery would eventually lead to such a result.

"Come out quickly. Dora wants to toast you a glass of wine!"

The bedroom door was pushed open and Mark spoke to me in a commanding tone.

I glanced at him indifferently, "I'm allergic to alcohol, you know."

But beside him, Dora said coquettishly, "Mark, I don't care. I want her to drink!"

Then Dora half appeared from the door and sneered at me, "Ella Scott, why are you so petty? We were just joking just now. Could it be that you take it seriously?"

Joking?

Now I was disheveled, with blood oozing from my face, and almost disfigured. They were just joking?

I was the vice president of Shermine Group and a well-known young entrepreneur in the city. They had posted my embarrassing situation online and made fun of me. They were just joking?

If she thought it was a joke, she should be treated like me.

I didn't say that because I didn't bother to say a word to her.

"I know you're allergic to alcohol, but today is Dora's birthday. Don't spoil the fun.

"Besides, even if you are allergic to alcohol, you won't die if you drink one glass."

I looked at Mark, and my face was full of disbelief, shock and anger.

"What if I just don't drink?"

As soon as I said that, Mark's friends behind him started to make noise.

"Ooh, Mark, is it really like what others say that you are a complete kept man? Your wife talked to you like that, but you dare not even say anything?"

Maybe because of his dignity, or maybe because I had never rejected him before, he was really angry.

In short, his expression changed visibly. He picked up a glass of wine, walked quickly to my side, pinched my chin with one hand, and poured the wine into my mouth with the other hand.

I was choking and coughing like crazy, but Dora beside him was clapping and cheering, "Mark, you are awesome. Hahaha, such a real man..."

Mark just snorted at me and said, "What a bummer!"

Then he left without looking back.

It took me a while to finally vomit the wine, but I still drank a mouthful of wine.

Then, with a tired body and a desperate mood, I was ready to leave.

I had originally planned to wait until Mark sobered up the next day, say goodbye to him and then leave, but now it seemed that was no longer necessary.

He didn't care what I did for him.

Watching me leave with a suitcase, he showed no intention of trying to keep me.

Dora in his arms asked me with a smug smile, as if she had won, "Ms. Scott, is the wine good?"

I stopped, walked to her, picked up a glass of wine on the table, and poured it directly on her face.

"Do you know now?"

Finally, I looked at Mark's friends and said seriously, "I also advise you to delete those videos and photos, otherwise you may get yourselves in trouble."

But everyone just sneered, as if I was really just trying to scare them.

Finally, I looked at Mark again and said indifferently, "I'll have someone send the divorce agreement over, and you can just sign it."

After saying that, I left without looking back, leaving Dora screaming like crazy behind me.

I ignored her. The moment I walked out of the house, I felt a sense of relief.

Maybe our marriage should have ended long before. Maybe I should have woken up long before.

But it didn't seem too late now.

I took a taxi directly back to the company, where I had my private office and lounge.

But in the middle of the night, I suddenly felt shortness of breath and I felt like I was suffocating.

I knew it was probably an alcohol allergy reaction.

When I woke up, I found myself in the hospital.

And next to me was my boss David Wilson.

"Are you awake? How do you feel? Why are you drinking if you are allergic to alcohol?

"I saw the videos online yesterday. I have already found a way to delete them and deal with those who posted them.

"If you are wronged in the future, you can tell me and I will help you!"

He handed me a peeled orange with a kind smile on his face.

"These are your favorite oranges. I had them flown in from Florida."

I nodded silently, feeling a little touched.

Later I found out that David went to the company to work overtime that day and found me almost suffocated due to an allergic reaction in the respiratory tract. He sent me to the hospital and later ordered someone to beat up Mark's friends. Some of them who had criminal records were thrown directly into the police station.

If it weren't for David, I might have died. I was so grateful that I didn't know what to say.

Just then, my cell phone rang.

It was Mark calling. I hung up and he called again.

After repeating that several times, he sent me a voice message via Facebook.

"Ella, can you not be so petty? I just drank too much yesterday, and you also did something wrong."

I laughed.

He almost caused me to lose my life yesterday, but in the end he thought that I was petty.

And where did I go wrong?

"Dora has a hungover. Come back and take care of her. I'll have a good talk with her and tell her not to be angry with you. Let this matter rest."

Ridiculous!

I ignored Mark's message, threw my phone aside, picked up my laptop and prepared to deal with the unfinished work. Working harder might be the only way I could repay David.

But David snatched the notebook away.

"How can you work harder than me, your boss? You are so weak now, so you are not allowed to work. I will give you a month off so that you can heal your body and adjust mood before coming back."

"This month is a critical period for whether we can win the city project. If I'm not here, we will lose this project!"

He just smiled at me and said, "As long as you are fine, it doesn't matter to lose a project."

After saying that, he left.

The city project was worth billions of dollars. Was I more important than that?

His words really made me feel warm inside.

Anyway, I had never felt such warmth and attention from Mark.

Just then, Mark sent another message:

[Where are you? Dora said she's hungry. Go buy some roast chicken. Hurry up. Dora doesn't like cold food.]

I finally got a little annoyed.

I took a picture of myself on an IV drip and the diagnosis report on the bedside table next to me, which showed that I almost suffocated to death due to an alcohol allergy last night, and sent it over.

And I replied: [Even if I am allergic to alcohol, I won't die if I drink one glass.]