Thanks to my father’s relentless efforts, I married to my now husband.

For five years, he played the role of a perfect husband. He once shielded me from an oncoming car, resulting in the amputation of his right lower leg. Now, he walks with a prosthetic. Despite his busy schedule, he always found time to plan trips, helping me fulfill my dream of traveling the world.

I was spoiled, willful and prone to unreasonable outbursts, but he never lost his temper. Instead, he found creative ways to make me smile.

Over time, I let myself believe that he loved me as much as I loved him. That we were in a mutual, devoted relationship.

Then Kya Tucker reentered our lives and Sydney began to distance himself, responding to me with half-hearted indifference.

It hit me like a thunderbolt—Sydney had never forgotten his first love. So, I stripped him of the resources he had used to pamper her, ready to let go. But Sydney wasn’t willing to let go.

***

I had secretly loved Sydney Boyer for four years, watching from the sidelines as he and Kya lived a romance straight out of a fairytale. Kya was the pampered daughter of a wealthy family, while Sydney was a struggling young man who delivered food to make ends meet. Despite their vastly different worlds, Kya pursued him relentlessly and eventually, they fell in love.

But fate wasn’t kind. During their graduation year, Kya’s family went bankrupt.

Rumor had it that Kya, unable to endure hardship, broke up with Sydney and left the country with a rich heir. Afterward, Sydney devoted himself to making money. 

My father, grateful for Sydney’s loyalty and also aware of my feelings, set the stage for our marriage. Everyone who knew us warned me against it. They said Sydney was a man who alternated between love and resentment for his “perfect first love.”

Kya, they claimed, would always be a hidden danger in our marriage—a time bomb waiting to go off. But I didn’t believe them. I was determined to fight for us and have him completely.

After we got married, it seemed like Sydney had truly forgotten Kya.

He remembered my love for spicy food, meticulously planned every trip we took and in moments of intimacy, whispered my name over and over, telling me he loved me.

He called me his wife with such affection that I began to think we had left the past behind.

By the fourth year of our marriage, he gently coaxed me, “I heard rich people say won’t feel pain during a childbirth. Why don’t we have two kids? A girl that will carry your beautiful eyes and a boy with you beautiful brain.”

I laughed at his playful tone. “Or a boy as sweet and kind as you!”

That night, we decided to try for a baby.

When I finally got pregnant, I was ecstatic. Excitedly, I went to share the news with Sydney.

But life has a cruel sense of timing. On that same day, Kya came back and Sydney completely lost control.

Hearing from his assistant that he had gone to a class reunion, I was stunned.

Sydney had always despised those spoiled heirs, never attending any of their gatherings. He had even discouraged me from going.

Was this a whim?

I brushed aside my doubts, grabbed my ultrasound report and headed to the restaurant.

When I opened the door to their private room, my heart skipped a beat at the sight of Kya.

Instinctively, I looked for Sydney. He was lounging on the couch, a cigarette between his fingers.

The moment he saw me, a flicker of panic crossed his face. He stubbed out the cigarette and walked over, taking my hand. “Honey, what are you doing here?”

Before I could answer, someone chuckled, “What else? She’s worried you two might rekindle your old flame and piece together your shattered love story!”

“Everyone knows Kya was your first love,” another chimed in.

Across from us, Kya’s face turned ashen, her head hanging low as she silently wiped away tears. She still loved Sydney—there was no mistaking it.

And Sydney?

I watched as he draped his jacket over my legs, always thoughtful about my sensitivity to the cold. He told a waiter to adjust the air conditioning for me.

He draped an arm around my shoulder and said nonchalantly, “Everyone makes mistakes. That’s all in the past. Now, I only love Florence and I just want to build a life with her."

“Don’t say things to upset my wife, or I swear you’ll face the consequences.”

Sydney rarely displayed affection publicly, so his words left me feeling both hopeful and uncertain.

The room fell silent momentarily before laughter erupted. They envied me—a woman with a husband who loved her, a man with both romance and success.

Everyone joined in the mood, except Kya. Her eyes turned red and tears streamed uncontrollably down her face.

Someone among the crowd sneered, “Look at that, Kya. If you hadn’t been so blind and greedy, you could’ve married Sydney by now and become the wealthiest woman in the city. And not living this pathetic life.”

“That’s right. I heard she’s divorced. What’s she even doing here?”

“Is she looking for a man willing to take her in?”

“I saw her with a kid earlier.”

Hearing this, Sydney's grip on my arm suddenly tightened, causing sharp pain. Yet, he didn’t seem to realize. His gaze was locked on Kya, seemingly waiting for her to deny it all.

But she didn’t. Kya simply lowered her head further.

Sydney averted his gaze in frustration, lighting a cigarette. He cared for her—far more than he wanted to admit.

“She really thinks she can find a man who’d want someone like her?” Rod Beauford, notorious for his troublemaking ways since high school, sneered loudly. “I wonder what it would feel like to have the once-proud Miss Tucker under me.”

His tone grew even more brazen and a sleazy grin spread across his face. “How about we make a deal? You sleep with me tonight and I’ll throw five thousand dollars your way. Sounds good, right?”

Rod’s words were shameless and crude. Sydney’s expression darkened, his piercing gaze icy as it bore into the man.

At that moment, Kya lifted her head, her tear-streaked face flushed. “Who do you think you are to trample on my dignity? If it weren’t for my father, your family would’ve gone bankrupt long ago!”

She added resolutely, “I’m not those women who stood roadside selling themselves. I’ll only sleep with the man I love.”

Her eyes lingered on Sydney without concealment. Then, she declared boldly, “Apart from him, no one else will touch me.”

She ignored me entirely, brazenly seducing my husband right before my eyes.

Rod’s face turned red with anger. He abruptly stood up from the couch, moved to Kya’s side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Despite her struggles, he planted a kiss on her cheek.

“Think you still the precious powerful daughter, huh? That’s bold. Why don’t we see if you still have the power to keep me from fucking you?”

With that, Rod grabbed Kya by the waist, hoisted her over his shoulder and headed for the door. Kya struggled, casting pleading looks toward Sydney.

Sydney was tense, his entire body rigid. His fists trembled as he clenched them tightly.

Just as he stood up, I grabbed his hand, my voice laced with desperation. “You’re my husband. Whatever happened to Kya is none of your business. Please, stay and don’t humiliate me.”

Sydney, who had never spoken harshly to me, fixed his gaze on the door where Kya had disappeared. His expression was unreadable. He shoved my hand away with such force that I fell heavily onto the couch.

Under the mocking gazes of the crowd, he glanced at me and said coldly, “How can you be so heartless?”

Then, without another word, he strode out, as if terrified that any delay might lead to irreversible consequences.

Clenching my hands into fists, I silently swallowed the tears that threatened to spill, forcing a smile. “I’m not feeling well. You all go ahead and enjoy the party. I’ll head home."

Behind me, laughter and ridicule erupted, but I didn’t turn back.

That night, I waited for him in the living room, all night long.

I called him repeatedly, hoping to remind him he had a wife, praying he’d regain his composure in his chaotic pursuit of Kya and that he wouldn’t doom our marriage.

But the call wasn’t answered until the early morning.

“Hello? Are you looking for Sydney? He’s exhausted from last night and still hasn’t woken up,” said a woman’s voice on the other end.

I covered my mouth as tears streamed down my face.

“Need me to wake him for you?” she asked, her voice tauntingly sweet.

Seeing ‘My Husband’ on the screen felt like a blade stabbing deep into my chest. The pain was excruciating, suffocating.

I was the victim, yet I felt like a rat scurrying through the streets, desperate to end the call and find somewhere to cry in solitude.

“Oh, your call kept ringing, so I answered it,” she added.

The sound of fabric rustling followed.

Then Sydney’s familiar voice came through, trembling, “Florence, it’s not like what you think. Kya and I didn’t do anything. I’ll explain everything at home.” 

The usually composed man now sounded panicked.

Shortly after, my phone buzzed with notifications. My long-dormant class group chat was unusually active.

Everyone was tagging me: [@Florence, check this out!]

My heart sank as I scrolled through the messages. A photo popped up and it felt like a slap in the face. In the picture, a woman, half-naked, leaned against a man’s shoulder, her lips curled in a blissful smile. Though the man’s face wasn’t visible, I knew it was Sydney. I couldn’t possibly mistake the wedding ring on his finger—it was ours. The design was unique, custom-made by a friend of mine who’s a jewelry designer.

The group chat exploded in an instant.

[@Florence, isn’t that Sydney?]

[You should just step aside and let them be happy. Forced love never lasts. Look how in love they are.]

[Why didn’t you stop him? Two old flames reunited after five years. Of course, something happened last night.]

[Ugh, this is disgusting. Poor Florence.]

Though most comments tried to bring me down, a few were still on my side:

[Don’t jump to conclusions. They’re the model couple of our circle. Sydney even broke his leg for Florence once. He’d never cheat on her.]

[Exactly. Five years and still so in love. They travel abroad every month. Stop spreading rumors.]

***

These people thrived on gossip, eager to see my misery.

I typed back carefully, trying to sound lighthearted.

[Florence: Want me to wake up and have him join a video call to clarify?]

The group fell silent.

I exhaled deeply, trying to steady my nerves.

Then, Rod sent a reply with sly emoji. [Your husband just text me.]

He posted a screenshot of their chat.

[Sydney: Delete it. If those photos get out, it’ll ruin Kya’s reputation.]

[Rod: Are you dumb? I posted them here for your wife to see.]

[Rod: Who do think she’ll believe? You or me?]

Sydney’s arrogance was evident, confident he had me completely under his control.

The chat exploded again.

Rod added, [Pay up, losers.]

[I told you Sydney still has feelings for Kya. He won’t just sit back and let it slide.]

[Give them the chance and those two will definitely roll in the hay.]

[In the face of true love, Florence doesn’t stand a chance!]

[Rob: Stop stalling. I want my money.]

Then, the group was filled with transaction records.

Sydney had turned me into a joke within the circle. Anger and shame wrapped tightly around me.

In just one night, Sydney had betrayed me twice.