After three years of marriage, she still hadn't gotten over her childhood sweetheart.

When my old injury flared up, she coldly pushed me aside and ran off to him.

Heartbroken, I dropped my wedding ring and walked away for good.

It wasn't until I moved on with someone else that she snapped out of it and tried to win me back.

But her love, coming too late, meant nothing now.

1

I stared down the woman in front of me, clearly wasted. Dark circles under her eyes, her face still flushed from the booze.

Rosalie Griffin looked me straight in the eye. "How many times do I have to repeat myself before you drop it?"

Her voice grew more impatient. "Shawn and I grew up together. We're not just ordinary friends. If I wanted to be with him, I wouldn't have married you."

After saying that, she turned to leave.

I couldn't keep my cool anymore and went after her, grabbing her arm. "You remember we're married, right? What kind of wife disappears for days without a word?"

Rosalie jerked her arm away hard. "I was just blowing off some steam, and you're making it sound filthy.

I'm sick of this nonsense. I've said my piece. Stop making a scene. I'm really tired."

Then, she went upstairs, arms crossed.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, feeling my temples pulsing.

Rosalie and I had been married three years. It started with deep affection and trust. Now, we can barely look at each other.

I wondered how long we could keep this up.

My thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a new message on my phone on the coffee table.

It was from Shawn Miller.

Shawn had sent over a bunch of photos showing him and Rosalie from their days as kids to now, as adults.

I got the message loud and clear: he had been Rosalie's longest companion.

My eyes stuck on the last photo.

It was blurry, and their features were unclear, but I could still make out them kissing.

Shawn's messages followed: [Colton Stewart, know your place. You can't force what's not yours,] and [You just took advantage when I was gone. I'm not letting go this time.]

I couldn't help but chuckle bitterly.

I'd moved into the Griffin residence as a son-in-law, all to be with Rosalie.

I just couldn't wrap my head around how things had gotten this bad.

I started doubting myself, wondering, "Did I screw up from the get-go?"

Rosalie's voice came from behind. "Colton, don't be mad. I swear it won't happen again."

She gently wrapped her arms around my neck, her breath warm against my skin.

"I wasn't thinking straight. It won't happen again," she murmured, nuzzling against me.

Rosalie knew just how to pull my strings. It worked every single time.

"Alright," I found myself saying automatically.

But I shoved the photo Shawn had sent right in front of Rosalie's face. He face drained of color.

"Colton, let me explain!" she pleaded.

Inside, I was all storms, but I kept my voice steady. "I'm listening."

Rosalie looked me straight in the eye. "It wasn't a kiss. I twisted my ankle, and he was just helping me."

She lifted her leg, showing me her foot. "See? It's still swollen," she said with a pout.

I took a deep breath and gently touched her ankle.

I had to admit, I had my biases. As a man, I couldn't just pull myself out of this marriage.

Rosalie pulled her foot back, grabbed my hand earnestly, and declared, "Colton, I love you. I wouldn't betray you."

Instinctively, I wanted to ask whether it was me or Shawn she loved.

Before meeting Shawn, I believed Rosalie loved me.

But seeing him, it struck me how similar Shawn and I looked.

I had always felt like Rosalie was seeing someone else when she looked at me.

So, I was right.

Rosalie leaned her head on my shoulder. "Colton, we haven't gone out in forever. How about the amusement park tomorrow?"

I grunted in agreement.

The next day, I waited forever for Rosalie outside her office building.

While waiting, I bumped into an old man selling flowers and bought a bunch of her favorite red roses.

Holding the bright roses, I stood outside her office for what felt like ages.

I tried to call her, but the line was always busy. She didn't reply to my texts either.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and let out a bitter laugh, realizing Rosalie wasn't going to show.

Then, I left the flowers at her company's reception desk.

It was a while before Rosalie finally called.

There was a lot of background noise, and I could intermittently hear Shawn's voice.

Rosalie quickly made an excuse, "Sorry, Colton. Something came up, and I can't make it today."

I just grunted and hung up.

Rosalie's ongoing lies and excuses felt like they were pushing us further apart.

At 10 p.m., news flooded social media of Shawn and a woman entering a hotel.

Even though the woman in the viral photos was blurred, I recognized the wedding ring and that unique bracelet.

My fingers paused, and I felt numb.

The glaring headlines pounded in my head: "Finance Genius and His Powerful CEO Girlfriend", "From Childhood Friends to Real-Life Romance," "Not Just His Girlfriend, His Fiancée."

The screen was filled with similar headlines.

I stared at the screen, unblinking, until my eyes began to burn, and then I closed them.

Rosalie didn't say a word in response, and her silence was all the answer I needed.

Shawn sent me a smug emoji and a photo of him and Rosalie getting it on.

It hit me hard. I felt totally sick.

My stomach turned, and I bolted for the bathroom.

I threw up everything, and with each blink, I could see them together, naked.

That image just wouldn't leave my head. It was disgusting.

When Rosalie came in, she found me puking by the toilet.

She frowned slightly. "What's wrong with you?"

The vomiting had my eyes red and watery.

"Rosalie, please, just stop making me feel sick," I said.

Her face twisted in anger as she shouted, "What's your problem now? I didn't mean to bail on you. It's not like I planned for this to happen!"

I scoffed and flashed the photo of her and Shawn entering the hotel on my phone. "Don't tell me that isn't you."

She stumbled over her words, struggling to explain.

Out of excuses, Rosalie put on her cutthroat business face. "Whether it's me or not, what does it matter? You think so low of me? Don't smear your filthy thoughts on me and Shawn."

I snorted to myself. Her irrational ways never changed. I thought, "She sounds cozy with Shawn. Does she even remember who her husband is?"

I confronted her, "What exactly is going on between you two?"

Actually, I wanted to ask what kind of relationship would justify being in bed together.

I grabbed her shoulders tightly and yelled, "Who's the filthy one here, you or us?"

Rosalie wrenched away from my grip. "Keep this up, and I swear I'll divorce you!"

I lost track of how many times she'd used divorce to threaten me over Shawn.

Anyway, throwing out the divorce card always shut me up. It never failed her.

I shot Rosalie a mocking look. "Fine, let's get a divorce then."

She was caught off guard, clearly not expecting me to agree. Regaining her composure, she retorted, "You want a divorce? Dream on."

Standing tall with an air of arrogance, she declared, "I'm not divorcing you. The only way this ends is with me dumping you."

I chuckled bitterly, wondering why we were even still doing this if the love was gone.

"Why?" I asked.

She handed me a glass of water. "You need to rest."

Then she turned and walked away.

"Rosalie, can we just let each other go?" I called out.

The only answer was the door slamming shut. I felt utterly pathetic.

My thoughts were a chaotic mess, overwhelming me.

Rosalie and I had been in a standoff for days. She hadn't been out with Shawn lately.

Whenever I worked, she sat nearby. Whenever I watched TV, she'd bring over some fruit.

She even moved back into our bedroom from the guest room.

It all looked like she was trying to make amends, but I knew we were past the point of no return.

No matter what she did, it couldn't mask the fact that she didn't love me anymore.

"Don't you get tired?" I asked.

"I'm just peeling some fruit, nothing tiring about that," she answered, pretending not to understand, as she kept peeling the apple.

Sure, one couldn't wake a person who was pretending to be asleep.

Rosalie tried to feed me a slice of apple, but for the first time, I didn't take it. "This apple is just like people. It looks great on the outside, but without its skin, it quickly turns dark and rotten."

She stared at my face, a flash of anger in her eyes, before tossing the apple slices into the trash.

"Grandma says she misses us. She wants us to come over for dinner tonight," she mentioned.

I grunted in acknowledgment, got up, and headed upstairs.

I knew if Rosalie didn't need me to join her at the Griffin residence today, she wouldn't have bothered being nice to me.

Half an hour later, Rosalie and I got to the Griffin residence.

She grabbed my arm as we walked in. I shivered the moment she touched me.

"Do I really make you that sick?" she asked.

I glanced at her. Her eyes misted up, tears pooling.

"No, it's just chilly," I replied, tightening my coat around me.

Regardless of our rocky marriage, we had to appear madly in love at the Griffin residence.

Right as we walked in, I spotted a familiar figure. It was Shawn.

I turned to Rosalie, mouth open to confront her.

She read my look instantly. "I didn't invite him."

Surprisingly, she kept a tight hold on my arm.

Shawn looked grim and quipped, "You seem to really like each other."

He was really making my skin crawl.

"Rosalie, Colton, come here. Let me see you," Catherine Griffin, Rosalie's grandmother, called out.

Rosalie quickly went over to Catherine.

Besides Catherine, I felt like no one else here really cared for me.

Passing Shawn, he hissed in my ear, "You sure play the part of the freeloader son-in-law perfectly. Not only living off others but also charming them."

I'd heard "freeloader" often enough, but hearing it from him still pissed me off.

"Watch yourself," I muttered, forcing my clenched fists to relax. If I got mad, that meant he won.

"Oh, Colton, you've lost quite a bit of weight," Catherine observed with concern, her elegant makeup unable to hide the marks of time. She took Rosalie's and my hands, smiling kindly.

Catherine made small talk with us, half paying attention.

Catching her eye, she leaned in and whispered, "Ignore Shawn. He's just jealous of what you have."

Then, Catherine gently patted my hand, comforting me.

My eyes landed on Rosalie. She was half-heartedly scrolling through her phone, sneaking peeks at Shawn.

"Grandma, I'm going upstairs to see Dad," Rosalie said, leaving under my watchful gaze.

I bent over to help Catherine with the coffee. By the time I looked up, Shawn had vanished.

I frowned slightly. Catherine, noticing my distraction, suggested I head upstairs to rest.

But just as I got to the top of the stairs, I caught Shawn and Rosalie chatting in a room with the door slightly open.

Rosalie was smiling in a way I had never seen. Or maybe I had, but it had been so long that I'd forgotten.

She gently patted Shawn's shoulder in a comforting gesture that seemed to say, "I'm here for you."

Before we were married, she often comforted me with that same gesture, knowing how tough my days were in the Griffin family.

Shawn gazed at Rosalie with deep affection. In a flash, they kissed passionately, completely lost in each other.

"If I hadn't gone abroad, would you have ended up marrying me?" Shawn asked.

Rosalie climbed onto his lap and answered, "Yes."

My hand clenched around the doorknob, veins bulging. It hit me. I'd been the fool all along.

Rage bubbled up inside me again.

I burst through the door. "What the hell are you doing?"

Rosalie went pale, looking guilty.