My wife, Maeve Sinclair, has a weird fetish. She loves roleplaying as other characters.

In her scripts, I'm always the OG husband who gets abandoned by the heartless wife.

Today, Maeve will be the domineering CEO who's fallen in love with her assistant. Tomorrow, she will be the professor who has the hots for her student.

Every time, she will make me sign a divorce agreement. The next day, she will laugh while ripping it apart.

"Darling, this is just a game."

But when my dad gets into a car accident and requires 200 thousand dollars just to undergo a life-saving surgery, Maeve is playing the role of a broke woman.

"I'm a penniless woman who's gone broke, Neal. I don't have any money for your dad's surgery at all."

I can only watch as my dad breathes his last on the sickbed.

On the day of his funeral, Maeve approaches me with a young and handsome university student clinging to her side.

"Darling, I've fallen in love with my student. Let's get a divorce."

Then, she pulls out a document from her briefcase and passes it to me.

This time, I refuse to wait for her to rip it apart.

A fresh set of divorce papers with Maeve Sinclair's name signed on it was shoved at me.

It was that same game. She was starting it again at Dad's funeral, just after I'd lost my only family.

I looked at her, at the beautiful face.

For the past three years, every time she brought out those papers, I would play along by crying and questioning until she finally laughed, tore the papers to shreds, and coaxed me back.

She called it fun, a way to keep our marriage fresh, and I believed her.

But right now, Dad was lying in his casket.

Before he passed, he held my hand tight and fixed his eyes on the door. He was waiting for Maeve, his daughter-in-law, whom he'd always treated like his own flesh and blood, to show up for one last goodbye.

But she never came.

Standing before him, I gave him a farewell kiss before turning around to take the pen from Maeve.

Instead of crying or screaming, I signed my name, letter by letter, under her watchful eyes.

"Done."

Maeve froze.

The breakdown she expected never happened. Instead, I stood before her, looking eerily calm.

"Nolan Woodward, what are you playing at now?" she asked, frowning in annoyance.

The young man beside her, Zane Kirk, sensed the shift in the air. He tightened his grip on her arms and said, "Maeve, do you think he's just too mad?"

I ignored them, folded my copy of the signed agreement, and shoved it into my bag.

Then, I looked her straight in the eyes and said, word for word, "Maeve, the game's over."

…

The next day, I went to the courthouse, where I submitted the divorce petition along with the signed divorce papers.

The clerk looked over the papers, glanced at me, and processed everything with mechanical efficiency.

When I checked my phone, the screen was flooded with missed calls and texts from Maeve.

"Nolan, you've had your fun. Now come home!

"I tore up the divorce papers. Let's just pretend this never happened.

"How dare you hang up on me! You're getting bold, aren't you?"

The last text, sent 30 minutes ago, read. "If you don't come back right now, don't ever come back!"

I immediately blocked her.

I found a small apartment to rent. Once I was done cleaning it up, I started job hunting.

After we got married, Maeve had insisted I quit my job to be a stay-at-home husband and a supporting actor in her pointless role-playing games.

She said she loved me to her very core, which was why she wanted us to experience falling in love over and over again through different scenarios.

She claimed that the cold, heartless women she portrayed—ones who abandoned their husbands—weren't the real her. It was just acting.

Now, as I looked back, it was pathetic.

Maybe she had never been acting at all. Perhaps those cold, selfish, cruel masks had been her true self.

The court summons soon reached her. When she called me, I was in the middle of a job interview.

"Nolan! Are you out of your mind? How dare you take this to court!"

I calmly walked to the end of the hallway. "We signed the divorce papers, Maeve. This is just the legal process to get it done faster.

"Done faster? I'm telling you—you're not getting this divorce!"

"Maeve," I cut in. "My dad's dead."

There was a brief silence before her voice turned cold as she continued, "I know, but that was his fate. You can't take it out on me. Games are games, and reality is reality. Can't you tell the difference?"

"You're the one who can't tell the difference," I snapped at Maeve and hung up before returning to the interview.

The job was a simple administrative role at a small firm. The pay was modest, but it was enough for me to get by.

The interview went well, and I was set to start next Monday.

…

That evening, I returned to my apartment to find two people waiting outside my door. It was Maeve and Zane.

Maeve's expression was thunderous, while Zane stood back with the smug look of someone enjoying the show.

"You've got some nerves, Nolan. Are you actually being serious?"

She stepped forward to block my way.

"Serious or not, none of that matters between us anymore," I said and tried to sidestep her to reach my door, but she grabbed my wrist with a bruisingly tight grip.

"Come home with me, and I'll pretend none of this happened."

"Let go." My voice was cold.

"Don't push your luck, Nolan!"

From the sidelines, Zane added fuel to the fire. "He's just doing this on purpose to get your attention, Maeve. Don't fall for it."

Maeve yanked at me and tried to drag me away, but I warned her, "If you don't let go, I'll scream."

"Go ahead! Let's see who dares to interfere in a husband and wife's business!" she roared.

A few neighbors peeked out from their windows, but seeing her aggressive stance, they quickly retreated.

I raised my free hand and, with every ounce of strength I had left, slapped her across the face.

The sharp crack echoed through the hallway.

Everyone froze, including Maeve, who clutched her cheek and stared at me in pure shock.

"D-Did you just slap me?"

Instantly, the look in her eyes turned vicious. She lifted her hand as if to strike back, but stopped herself. Instead, she stared at me as if she wanted to devour me whole.

"You've got guts, Nolan. You're really something."

She released my wrist and ground out the words through clenched teeth. "You'll regret this."

With that, she grabbed Zane and stormed off.

It wasn't until they disappeared around the corner of the stairwell that I realized my hands were shaking, not from fear, but from rage.

I returned to my empty apartment, shut the door, and slid down against it.

There wasn't a single piece of her belongings in the room, yet I still felt suffocated. Her so-called role-playing games had scarred me deeply.

…

The next day, the bank called in the afternoon. Our joint account, which held the bulk of our savings, was frozen. Most of the money was from her income.

I'd expected it, so I didn't panic.

I still had some money Dad had left me, and if I was careful, it would last until my first paycheck.

…

On Wednesday, I was settling into my new job when a man in a trendy suit burst into the office. He pointed a finger at my face and started cursing out, "Nolan! You shameless piece of trash! How dare you seduce my wife!"

While I was too stunned to react, everyone in the office turned to look.

"Sir, you must have the wrong person," my supervisor said, stepping in.

"I have the right guy! Look, it's him!" The man pulled out a photo of a woman and me.

She was a senior in college. We'd lost touch after graduation, so I had no idea where he'd gotten it.

"Everyone, look! This man ruined my family! Now, he's the reason my wife wants a divorce!" he cried, knocking things off my desk.

The office descended into chaos.

I couldn't defend myself because I knew that this was Maeve's handiwork. She was destroying my reputation, so I'd be at a loss.

My supervisor's expression was grim when he called me into the office. "Nolan, I trust you, but the company has to consider the impact. Take a few days off."

It was a polite way of saying that I was fired.

That was when my phone rang with a call from Maeve. There was a smile in her voice as she asked, "How does it feel? I told you, Nolan. You'll regret this."

"You're pathetic, Maeve."

"Pathetic? I learned from the best," she said with a laugh. "I'll give you one last chance. Come back now, beg me, and I might consider forgiving you."

"In your dreams." I hung up.

Deep down, I swore that I'd never beg her.

I walked in the rain for hours until I was soaked to the bone before finally making it back to my apartment.

The heavy smell of cologne hit me the second I stepped into the hallway.

At my door, Zane stood like he owned the place and looked at me with open disdain.

"What are you doing here?" I coldly asked.

"Just checking in on you to see how miserable you are after Maeve dumped you."

He looked me up and down, taking in my soaked, disheveled state, and laughed. "You look rough. You lost your job too, didn't you? Maeve said she's going to make sure you can't survive in Marinia until you crawl back and beg her."

"Tell her to keep waiting."

I decided I was done with him and unlocked my door to step inside.

"Still acting tough, huh?"

He followed me in, walked straight to Dad's portrait, and picked it up. "If your old man knew how ungrateful you are right now, would he roll over in his grave?"

"Put that down," I demanded, my voice shaking.

"Oh? Did I hit a nerve?" He tossed the frame lightly in his hand. "What if I accidentally drop it…"

"I said put it down."

Zane let out a mock gasp and intentionally let go.

The frame hit the door before the glass shattered into jagged pieces. Dad's smiling face was instantly webbed with cracks.

Blood rushed to my head.

I didn't know where the strength came from, but I grabbed Zane by the hair and slammed him into the floor with everything I had.

He shrieked, thrashed, and clawed at my arms, leaving bloody gashes with his nails, but I felt nothing. All I knew was that he'd crossed the line and insulted my dead father.

Like a madman, I tore at his hair and slapped his face.

"I told you not to touch him! I told you!"

Zane was so stunned that all he could do was cry and scream. "You're crazy! You're a lunatic! Maeve, help me!"

The door burst open before Maeve charged in. She took one look at the scene, and her face went pale.

"Nolan! Stop!"

She ran over and shoved me with such force that I staggered back and slammed into the wall. Pain shot up my spine from the impact.

Maeve helped the sobbing, hyperventilating Zane to his feet. When she noticed his swollen face and disheveled hair, her expression turned vicious.

"Nolan! You've lost your mind!"

She stalked toward me, her face filled with a malice I had never seen before.

"How dare you touch him!"

Watching her protect him, I let out a jagged laugh. "Maeve, he smashed my dad's portrait."

She paused before looking down at the shattered frame on the floor, then back at the sniveling Zane. He immediately started whining, "I didn't mean to! He charged at me, and I lost my grip!"

Maeve frowned. Instead of questioning it further, she looked at me and coldly said, "Even so, you shouldn't have attacked him. Apologize now."

Was she actually demanding that I apologize to the man who mocked my dead father?

"I'll say it one more time—apologize." Her tone left no room for argument.

"What if I don't?" I met her gaze.

"Then I'll make you."

She pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed a number.

"Hello, Mr. Cruz? Something's come up.

"Yes. I've found some… questionable items… at a friend's apartment."

She was planting evidence to set me up.

"You're disgusting, Maeve," I spat.

"You forced my hand," she replied and hung up before glaring at me.

"The police will be here soon, Nolan. Imagine what happens next when they find the goods."

Zane stopped crying and shot me a triumphant look. "You can't win against her, Nolan. Just get on your knees, bow your head, and beg. Maybe she'll soften up and go easy on you."

I was shaking from head to toe.

I looked at Maeve's familiar face, the woman I'd loved for three years, and she felt like a complete stranger. She was willing to send me to prison for the sake of another man and a ridiculous game.

Outside, the faint wail of a siren grew louder.

The corners of Maeve's lips curled into a victorious smirk. "You're running out of time to make a choice, Nolan."