"Elena, how about we make a bet?"

Luke proposed that after I married Andrew, I couldn't deliberately do my makeup or dress up whenever I saw him.

He even wanted me to make myself look ugly with foundation.

If I could keep that up for five years, he would give up and let us be together.

But we didn't make it.

The first year, I darkened my skin, pretending I'd gotten a tan.

The second year, pimples broke out across my face.

The third year, little freckles appeared.

…

Along with my tiny, almost imperceptible changes, Andrew's attitude toward me deteriorated.

At first, he stopped calling me "baby" and coaxing me. Holidays came and went with no flowers, no gifts, no red envelopes. Whenever I asked, he'd shrug carelessly.

"We're already an old married couple. Isn't all that stuff exhausting?"

Later came the silence. Especially when he came home from work and saw me looking unkempt—his mood would sour instantly. He started spending most evenings buried in his study.

After that, impatience crept in.

On weekends he'd obviously go out with friends, but tell me he was working overtime. I even heard a recording one of his buddies sent.

His friend joked, "Andrew, weren't you a total wife guy before? When you first got married, you wouldn't even come to our hangouts—couldn't wait to be glued to her every day. You told us Elena was a rare beauty and you'd found true love. It's only been three years. What, now you're hiding from her?"

Andrew's voice was thick with impatience.

"Elena? Sure, I loved her like crazy at first—because she was still beautiful. Who knew that after just three years, her best days would already be over? Every day I see that face, and she still clings to me wanting gifts and kisses—I'm about to throw up."

"Forget sleeping with her. I haven't touched her in six months. I feel nothing."

When I heard those words, the blood in my veins turned to ice.

After all, Andrew had whispered to me countless times, his voice so gentle: "Elena, what I love is who you are inside. It has nothing to do with your face."

"Even if you become ugly someday, become old—my love for you won't change."

But the truth was, I only became ugly.

And he revealed his true face.

Women are always softhearted. Even after hearing something so vile, I still gave him a chance. I told myself he was just in a bad mood, just irritated for the moment.

Until the company annual party, when Andrew and his secretary Sophie disappeared at the same time.

When I burst into that hotel room to catch them, I found them with their clothes in disarray.

I went crazy, hurling a wine glass at them.

Andrew's first instinct was to shield Sophie, pulling her behind him. Then he turned to me, his face twisted with disgust.

"Elena, are you done making a scene?"

"Staring at that face of yours every day, I feel like throwing up even when I haven't eaten."

"Look at yourself right now—like a shrew. What man would want that?"

His words cut like knives, stabbing straight into my heart.

The love I thought would last a lifetime didn't even survive five short years.

"It's okay. No matter how bad things were before, it's all in the past."

Luke squeezed my hand, pulling me out of my memories.

"Elena, forget all of that. Look forward."

He pinched my cheek, smiling as he led me into the county clerk's office.

When we came out again, his face was split with a doting grin, his whole body practically vibrating with joy—like he didn't know what to do with himself.

"Elena, I really feel like I'm dreaming."

"This scene that's appeared in my dreams countless times has finally become reality."

"Elena, I'm not like Andrew. I'll love you properly. I'll protect you."

I smiled, then picked out a few carefully selected photos.

"Yeah, to welcome a new life, I should post a few on social media to announce it. I want everyone to know my husband has changed."

When Andrew scrolled to my announcement post, he was at a bridal shop, accompanying Sophie as she tried on wedding dresses.

He looked at the photos—my face bright and gorgeous, like a fully blooming red rose. And I was standing arm-in-arm beside another man, smiling sweetly.

Something clenched tight in his chest. Restless. Irritated.

When did Elena become this good-looking?

For five years, he'd grown sick of my ugly face. Dark, sallow skin—like I'd come from the countryside. Just because a friend had once said in private, "What kind of taste does Andrew have, actually finding such an unrefined country bumpkin?"

From then on, he never brought me to any gatherings again.

But now—the bright, gorgeous woman in those photos—how was that still the Elena he remembered?

"Hey, Andrew, I'm talking to you. Did you hear me?"

A hand slapped heavily onto his shoulder. Sophie's whiny voice cut through.

"What exactly do you mean? Do you really want to marry me? I heard your family's housekeeper Sarah Lambert say it—when Elena married you, her wedding dress was custom couture. Fine, no couture for me, but you actually picked something this plain? How am I supposed to wear this? It's hideous!"

"Do you even have me in your heart at all?"

Andrew's brows knit tight. He only felt irritated. He perfunctorily handed over a bank card.

"Buy whatever you want yourself."

Sophie's dissatisfaction instantly melted into a grin. She took the card, but as soon as she lifted her head, her eyes met mine—and her smile froze.

"Elena... why are you at a bridal shop?"

She glanced at me, then looked at Andrew with a weird, sarcastic expression.

"Don't tell me you regretted the divorce and came to stalk him?"

Luke and I looked at each other and smiled.

"Coming to a bridal shop? Of course—we're also here to try on wedding dresses."

Hearing my voice, Andrew suddenly raised his head. He stood abruptly and walked over.

"Elena?"

A disdainful snort-laugh. "I didn't expect you to have some tricks. Just a few days after the divorce, you already hooked another man."

"But your acting is too clumsy. You want to use this man as cover to stalk me—do you think I can't tell?"

I stayed silent.

After all, this kind of thing had happened before. In the period when Andrew had just started cheating, I was like I'd been possessed—crazily stalking him, crazily wanting to catch evidence, like self-abuse.

But every time, what I got in return was him hurting me even more recklessly.

He went from hiding it at the beginning, cheating in secret, to being brazen and self-righteous—even right in front of me, taking Sophie to a sex hotel to get a room. Or coming to the house, deliberately editing sex videos and sending them to me.

Calling it, in a nice-sounding way, "letting me appreciate them."

But from the moment of the divorce, I had already ended the self-abuse—and drawn a clear line with him.

My expression didn't waver. "You misunderstood. I'm getting married."

"Married?"

Andrew looked like he'd just heard the funniest joke of his life.

"You? Do you dare let this guy see what you look like without makeup?"

He turned to Luke, voice dripping with mockery.

"Fair warning, buddy—you might want to see Elena's real face before you commit to anything. Trust me, once that makeup comes off, you'll think you're staring at a ghost."

"I'm her ex-husband. I stared at that face for five years straight. I know exactly what's under there. Consider yourself warned."

Luke stood off to the side, a half-smile playing on his lips as he glanced at me.

"Ah, Mr. James. What a coincidence."

He pulled out a wedding invitation and extended it toward Andrew.

"I was planning to have this delivered to your place, but since we ran into you—saves me a trip."

"Elena and I are getting married next month. You're welcome to attend."

Andrew's face went white.

He stared at the invitation for a long moment, then let out a cold laugh.

"Elena, I have to hand it to you—your game has seriously leveled up. The acting, the props... you really went all out with a fake wedding invitation. Is there anything you won't do?"

"You might fool other people, but you can't fool me."

He tossed the invitation straight into the trash.

Luke's expression darkened. "You—"

He moved to confront him, but I caught his arm.

"It's fine."

I smiled. "The guest list is already packed anyway. We won't miss him."

I turned to the clerk waiting with my custom haute couture gown.

"Besides, we came for the dress. Let's grab it and go."

The moment I took the gown—the store's crown jewel—Sophie's face twisted.

"Andrew, look! She's taking the store's treasure!"

"You said Elena was ugly now. That she had nothing. That she'd be miserable without you—so how can she afford a custom haute couture wedding dress?"

"Is that guy actually loaded?"

"I don't care—you're buying me one too!"

Andrew snapped, clearly fed up with her whining.

"Get lost."

"Sophie, does someone like Elena deserve to even be compared to you?"

"This is all a performance. Can't you see that?"

"Why else would she come to this bridal shop instead of anywhere else? She's here to parade around in front of me. She's stalking me."

"Just wait. Give it a few days, and she'll come crawling back."

After we left the shop, Luke noticed my silence. That pained look crept back into his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Elena."

"Do you blame me? If it weren't for that bet... maybe things between you and Andrew wouldn't have ended up like this."

"And now he's marrying Sophie."

His voice was heavy with guilt.

I forced a casual shrug. "It's all in the past."

"Even without the bet, Andrew would still treat me the same way."

A bitter smile tugged at my lips.

"After all, the ways he's wronged me go far beyond this."

Luke's expression turned serious. He took my hand. "What else?"

What else...

I let out a soft, hollow laugh. "For example, six months ago, he listed me on a secondhand marketplace. Priced at $9.90."