To my dad and I, the necklace was a souvenir of the time we had spent with my mom.

I saw Anton's pupils constrict for a moment, but in the next breath, he draped his arm around Skylar's shoulder. His voice was cold and distant as he said, "Since it's so important, why didn't you get it from the auction?"

My gaze fell to his hand. There was still a faint tan line on his ring finger.

"I don't have that kind of money," I admitted.

"That's your problem." Anton looked at me, his eyes as hard as stone. "If you had agreed to divorce me earlier, the compensation would have been enough to buy that necklace."

His words struck me like a dagger, twisting deep into my heart.

"So, you're helping Skylar get it just to force me into a divorce?" I asked, each word tasting like poison on my tongue. "Anton, how could you do this to me?"

"I have no feelings for you anymore, Erica," he replied.

...

That day, I left without the necklace.

Anton's last question echoed through my thoughts like a haunting refrain as I sat on the couch, staring at the coffee table and the paintings that adorned our living room. Each piece was a testament to the dreams we once shared.

'How could he suddenly fall for someone else?' I refused to believe it.

Even though Anton paraded Skylar around like a trophy, and everyone who knew us whispered about his newfound love, I couldn't bring myself to sign those divorce papers.

I wasn't ready to give up on us.

My eyes drifted to our photo on the table, and for a moment, I was transported back to when we first met.

We were just kids in high school. I was a studious overachiever, but he was a rebellious troublemaker who sat behind me, tugging at my braid.

I'd turn around, ready to scold him, but he'd just hand me a note.

[Erica, I like you. Do you want to give it a try?]

From that day forward, he was there every morning, waiting at my doorstep and walking me to and from school.

My parents found out first, and then word reached his parents.

Our families even have dinner together because of it.

"You're still students. You shouldn't be dating," said his mother. "You don't want to ruin Erica's future."

Anton nodded, agreeing outwardly, but under the table, his hand found mine.

...

In our senior year, my mother died suddenly in a car accident.

The vehicle was engulfed in flames, leaving nothing but charred remains.

My father aged overnight, his business crumbling under the weight of his grief. I was devastated and diagnosed with depression.

I couldn't go to school, and Anton took time off to be with me.

He patted my head and held me. "Erica, don't be sad. You still have your dad, and you still have me."

With his support, I slowly began to heal, managing to take the college entrance exam, though my scores suffered from the trauma.

To stay by my side, Anton gave up a better school, choosing a university in the same city.

I told him he was being foolish, but he just smiled, taking my hand in his. "What if you get noticed by another guy at college? I can't go to another city."

It was the first time he'd said something so sweet, making me blush and my heart race.

I gathered my courage and asked, "What do you see me as?"

Anton was taken aback, his ears turning red.

"Isn't my intention clear enough?"

He gazed at me and suddenly pulled me into his strong, warm embrace. "Erica, I like you. Will you let me protect you, forever?"

I melted into his arms, my mind drifting back to that day in senior year. He had looked at me with such earnest eyes, promising. I couldn't help but nod.

...

After graduating from college, I married Anton.

Our first year of marriage was marked by a challenge. A major virus outbreak swept through the country.

He was away on a business trip when the crisis hit, leaving me home alone. Pharmacies were stripped bare, and I watched the death toll rise on my phone each day, a cold dread settling in my stomach.

One night, a soft knock echoed through the silent apartment. I peeked through the peephole, and to my surprise, it was Anton standing outside.

He was panting like a guardian angel who had just descended from the heavens.

"How did you get back?" I asked.

He had been hundreds of kilometers away just that afternoon.

"I drove back," he said, his voice muffled through his thick mask. "Don't come out."

He pulled out a box of medicine from his coat and left it at the door. "Remember to take the medicine."

"Where are you going?" I asked, confusion swirling in my mind.

"I've got some things to do," he said hurriedly before disappearing into the night.

Later, I discovered he had driven for five straight hours with a high fever just to bring me that medicine.

He could have had it mailed, but he was worried it might get lost or stolen, or that I might fall ill without it.

I never doubted Anton's love for me.

Yet he had fallen for a new girl at his company.

He described her as innocent and pure, someone who stirred his protective instincts.

I investigated her, and indeed, she had an angelic face and a tragic background that tugged at the heartstrings of men.

But she had also used her background to manipulate many before him.

When I presented Anton with the evidence, he refused to believe me.

"Erica, you're just used to seeing deceit in the business world. You always think the worst of people," he accused.

He believed I wasn't as pure and kind as Skylar. But he forgot he had promised to always protect me.

...

When I first noticed him sharing daily updates with Skylar, alarm bells rang in my head.

When a man started sharing his everyday life with another woman, it meant he was more than just interested.

I gave him a warning, but he brushed it off, saying nothing was going on between them.

Later, when I looked through his chat history, I saw they were sharing what they had for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, what flowers, birds, and fish they had seen, and which songs they liked.

Yet the last message in my pinned chat was from a month ago.

On my birthday, he received a text from Skylar.

Skylar: [Mr. Stark, my manager wants me to entertain Mr. West and drink with him. I'm scared.]

Anton left me alone to face the freshly lit candles and rushed to the hotel.

Until the candles burned out and the wax covered the cake, he still didn't come back.

The next day, when he returned, his collar was smeared with lipstick marks, and there were visible scratches on his neck.

He bitterly apologized to me, explaining, "She was drugged by that bastard. I had to go save her."

I couldn't understand how there could be so much helplessness in his voice. Rationally, I knew this man was no longer worth holding onto.

For the past fifteen years, he had treated me like a queen. His care and affection were as warm and constant as the summer sun.

I was sure that we were in love.

I thought that if I could just overlook this one indiscretion, we could still grow old together.

So, I chose to forgive him.

However, a month later, Skylar committed suicide. She slashed her wrists in her house and sent Anton a haunting message.

Skylar: [You didn't take responsibility for me, but I don't blame you.]

At that time, he had promised me a tour together. But when he saw the message, he went pale as a ghost and booked the nearest flight out, leaving me stranded in a place I barely knew.

Anton vanished for three days. When he finally reappeared, he thrust a divorce agreement into my hands.

"Erica, let's get a divorce. Skylar can't live without me," he said.

The moment I saw that divorce agreement, something inside me snapped. All my anger and pride evaporated, replaced by a desperate need to hold onto him.

I snatched the agreement and tore it to pieces.

"I'm not divorcing you!" I screamed.

I couldn't bear the thought of losing him, even if he thought I was crazy.

...

After that, Anton and I entered a cold war.

He started parading Skylar around at every formal event. He wanted the world to know that the position of Mrs. Stark was about to be filled by another.

His parents flew into a rage, threatening to disown him, but he didn't bat an eye.

He had always had it easy, never knowing what it was like to fight the world for someone.

In front of Skylar, he was a hero, tall and invincible.

He seemed to revel in that feeling.

He moved out, shacking up with Skylar. Aside from the divorce agreements he sent home every month, he was as unreachable as a phantom.

The only glimpses I got of his life came from Skylar's social media.

After they got together, she started posting about their fairytale life—shopping sprees, exotic travels, and Anton's grand, romantic gestures.

These were luxuries we could only dream of during our student days. Later, when he started his business, we were too busy chasing success to chase sunsets.

I had always thought Anton wasn't capable of such grandeur, but it turned out he could do it all, just not for me.

I should have blocked Skylar, but I was terrified that if I did, I'd never see any trace of Anton again.

So, I tortured myself, scrolling through her photos, imagining that the person by his side was me.

I didn't even notice when my depression started to creep back in.

One day, I woke up to find myself crumpled on the cold floor downstairs. Blood pooled around me, and screams erupted. "Someone jumped off the building!"

Pain radiated through my body, but the worst was my belly. It felt like a giant, rusty spoon was stirring my insides, making me wish I could just black out.

A sudden, intense fear gripped me. This fear made me reach out with trembling hands, grasping for a phone that lay shattered beside me.

The screen was a web of cracks, but it still worked.

I heard someone calling an ambulance and dialed Anton's number.

I was bleeding out, but he didn't answer.

Just when I thought I was about to die, a bright light enveloped me, pulling me away from the darkness.