I would never forget the disappointment in John's eyes. No matter how much I tried to explain that I had been framed, he refused to believe me.

To avoid gossip, Chris was sent abroad by John's mother. After that incident, every time John looked at me, his disgust was impossible to hide. I knew he thought I was damaged goods.

However, I was powerless to defend myself. I silently endured it. As long as I could stay by his side, I did not care if he did not love me or treated me as a replacement. I was willing to accept it.

Three months ago, I unexpectedly found out I was pregnant. I wanted to tell him, but lately, his face was cold whenever he saw me. He did not even want to speak to me.

I kept comforting myself, thinking maybe he was just busy with work or in a bad mood. I decided to wait for the right time to tell him.

If it were not for the fact that I ran into him at the hospital that day, holding Tammy's hand while she was getting her finger bandaged after accidentally hurting it while cooking, I might never have realized that the reason for his coldness was because his first love had returned.

I stood at the entrance of the busy clinic, watching in a daze as he gently cradled Tammy's hand, filled with concern. At that moment, I realized John could show tenderness and care for someone. It was not that he was incapable of it—he just never cared enough about me.

I was heartbroken as I returned home. I did not even have the appetite for dinner.

He did not come back until late at night, reeking of alcohol. When he finally walked through the door, he did not ask why I had gone to the hospital or if I was feeling unwell. He just threw his coat on the floor in front of me, his face stony, and walked straight to the bathroom.

Holding his coat in my hands, I saw faint lipstick traces on it. For the first time, I lost control in front of him.

I smashed everything in the room, screaming, demanding to know why he was still carrying on with Tammy while I was pregnant with his child.

He stood there in the mess, coldly watching me go mad.

"Sandra, look at yourself. You're acting like a crazy woman. How can you ever compare to Tammy?

"Do you know what I regret the most? It is marrying you. Honestly, just looking at you makes me sick."

He grabbed his coat and walked out, leaving me alone, sobbing until my eyes were swollen. The husband, who did not care about me, lavished care on his first love.

Tammy barely winced in pain, and John was already clutching her hand, his voice full of concern.

"Tammy, is your hand still hurting? Do you want me to call the doctor?"

I wanted to laugh.

When we had just gotten married, my mother-in-law fainted at home. I was so worried that after calling the ambulance, I carried her downstairs myself. In the process, I twisted my ankle and could not walk for days.

I begged John to help me to the bathroom, but he just gave me a cold look and shook his head. I had to lean against the wall, moving inch by inch, until I slipped and fell to the floor, unable to get up. I cried out, telling him my foot hurt terribly and asking for help. He scoffed, refusing to lift a finger, and mocked me instead.

He said, "Do you even know how old you are? Stop acting like some dramatic teenage girl, threatening to die over every little thing.

"If you want to die, do it far away from here. Don't bother me."

Just as he had said, I had died far, far away, never to bother him again.

He was finally free of me and could chase after his true love without me standing in his way.

It had been three days since I disappeared. Wilson approached him multiple times about the matter.

"John, we still haven't found Sandra. I've checked with every police station, but there's no news."

John ignored him, continuing to peel an orange nonchalantly.

"I told you, the kidnappers wouldn't dare hurt her. At most, they took whatever valuables she had and dumped her somewhere remote. Why are you so worried?"

He refused to believe that I could be in any real danger and showed no concern about where I might be.

Wilson, a detective for years, was more observant and diligent than most.

"John, I checked. Sandra was wearing a dress that day. She wouldn't have had the pockets to be carrying cash. Besides, there's been no activity on her accounts these past few days, and she doesn't have many friends. Aren't you even a little worried?"

John casually fed Tammy the orange, then finally turned to look at him. Wilson, usually calm and collected, was on the verge of tears, grabbing John's arm and pleading softly, "John, listen to me. If something happens to Sandra, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

Seeing Wilson's anxiety, John hesitated and rose from his seat. However, Tammy tugged at his sleeve before he could take a step. She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears, her expression fragile and pitiable.

"John, you know this whole thing has been so traumatizing for me. Can't you let them handle it? I'm terrified of being alone."

Before John could respond, Wilson pulled on his arm, trying to drag him toward the door while still talking.

"Miss Tammy, your injury is more or less healed. Don't keep clinging to John. He's got a wife to find. Even if you're in a hurry to take her place, another day or two won't make a difference, right? Honestly, you're just being melodramatic."

"Shut up!" John roared, shaking off Wilson's hand and shoving him aside. His entire body trembled with fury, seeing his beloved woman insulted.

"You seem more anxious than I am. What? Do you have something going on with Sandra, too?

"And let me warn you—watch how you speak to Tammy from now on. If you dare insult her again, don't blame me for ending our friendship."

My heart twisted in agony. So, that was how worthless I was to him.

He had forgotten that the only reason Wilson was so concerned about me was that a few years ago, when his mother was gravely ill and desperately needed money for treatment, I had stepped in to help and save her life. John knew that but still spat out such hurtful words without a second thought.

Wilson was frustrated, but John shoved him out the door before he could explain.

"Get out! Don't show your face here unless you find Sandra's body! Stop spewing nonsense in front of me!"

I watched his face, twisted with anger and felt a surge of bitterness. The husband I devoted everything to for the past ten years had no compassion for me.

After Wilson left, Tammy wrapped her arms around John's neck and spoke softly, sounding aggrieved.

"John, I'm terrified. I didn't mean to stop you from looking for Sandra."

John stroked her hair, his expression full of tenderness.

"I know you're not that kind of person. Don't worry. Sandra is well-liked; plenty of people will look for her. Right now, I want to focus on being with you. Once you're better, I'll go check on her."

A bitter smile crept onto my face as I watched them embrace lovingly. So, he did know how to love someone. He just never loved me.

Two days later, a group of hikers found my body. I had died a horrible death, covered in countless wounds from brutal beatings. Even the hardened detectives, used to seeing such sights, couldn't hold back their tears.

They covered me with a white sheet and brought me to the hospital. At the time, John was accompanying Tammy to get her wound dressed in one of the exam rooms.

As my body was carried past him, he was smiling down at Tammy, his gaze never leaving her face. His deep affection made my death seem even more meaningless.

The hospital staff did not notice as the stretcher carrying my body bumped into Tammy. She yelped in pain and collapsed into John's arms. John's face twisted with anger, ready to yell at the staff for their carelessness.

Then, his eyes fell on my limp arm, hanging out from under the sheet. He froze on the spot. There was a scar on my wrist, one he was all too familiar with.

That scar came from the time a criminal's relative tried to attack him in revenge. I had thrown myself in front of him, shielding him from a knife that should've landed on his head. Instead, it slashed across my arm.

"Wait!" he shouted instinctively. His voice trembled, and he looked momentarily panicked.