The day I found out my wife, Madison Anderson, had a secret three-year-old son with someone else, was the day I wired our house with explosives. I was prepared to end it all, with her by my side.

Only that night, Madison never came home.

I sat hollow and numb until my 10-month-old daughter suddenly called out, "Da-da."

That single word shattered my resolve.

She breathed life back into me.

And so, I grabbed the most expensive car in the garage and sped away, detonating the explosives from beyond the gates.

I drove straight to the airport, uncaring of the fiery wreckage that I left behind.

From that night forward, the man Havenport had ridiculed as the Anderson family's worthless son-in-law vanished without a trace.

Five years later, our paths crossed again at a boutique inn in Bellmont.

Madison stared at me as I politely handed her the room key. For a moment, she looked lost. "Travis.... you seem different."

I simply smiled and wished them a pleasant stay as a family of three.

The Wife Who Buried the Truth

The room key lingered in the air between us. It seemed to be suspended by hesitation while Madison kept her hands stubbornly at her sides.

My wrist started to ache, so I reminded her again, "Ms. Anderson, your room key."

"I'll take it."

A clear, calm voice came from behind her, breaking the silence.

It was her legally married husband, Gerald Henson.

My eyes traced the wedding band on his finger before colliding with a gaze I knew too well, the same eyes that had haunted my darkest nightmares.

"I told you to wait on the couch," Madison murmured. "You never listen. You made me worry."

She immediately gathered his things and melted into his embrace. Her voice turned gentle, softer than I had ever heard it.

"Good. Your fever has gone down. Are you feeling tired? Take Noah upstairs first; I'll go get you something to eat."

Gerald nodded gently. When his eyes passed over me, there was a quiet, measuring look in them. "Okay. I'll wait for you."

I tore my gaze from them just as a delivery guy appeared, lugging in an enormous bag of cat litter.

When I checked the pickup code, Madison had already bent down to pick it up. "I'll help. Where does it go?"

"It's fine." I reached out and took it from her, deliberately keeping my distance from her.

I noticed the dust streaking her skirt. So, I turned to the counter, pulled out two bills, and offered them. "It's for dry cleaning. Cash is easier."

"Don't worry about it. I offered to help." Madison reached out to stop me.

As her fingers neared my wrist, I recoiled.

Her hand froze in the air. Her voice carried a faint tightness she probably thought she had hidden. "Really, it's fine. I have something to do."

When she turned, she almost bumped into Ana Moss, one of the inn staff, who had just come back holding a bag of roasted chestnuts.

Ana watched Madison disappear, then seized my arm, her eyes alight with excitement.

"Travis, wasn't that Madison Anderson from Havenport? She's gorgeous! I've seen her interviews. Self-made, powerful, and she always talks about her husband. Successful and loyal? That's rare."

A few guests nearby joined in.

"Right? I heard her ex-husband was insane. He attacked someone with a knife and should've gone to prison."

"She was kind enough to pay him a fortune in compensation. She only divorced him because she couldn't take it anymore."

Those lies washed over me, leaving not a ripple.

Inside, I was as still as stagnant water.

Only the scar between my thumb and index finger began to throb. I traced its twisted length, and the past surged up to meet me.

Madison had never been some self-made business legend.

Back then, she was just a poor scholarship girl, bullied and ignored by everyone.

On a bitterly cold afternoon, a pack of rich kids trapped her against a wall. Blood trickled down her forehead, soaking her worn school uniform in crimson.

I happened to pass by.

I snatched up a wooden stick and rushed in, ready to defend her.

Amid the chaos, shards of glass slashed the web of my hand, the wound so deep it revealed bone. Eight stitches finally stemmed the bleeding.

Madison vanished from the hospital without a single word.

When I ran after her, the reason became clear.

She could not even afford the cost of my stitches.

At home, she faced an alcoholic father and a mother lost to her own mind.

From then on, protecting her was second nature.

She was still quiet and distant, but after school, she started helping me catch up on math.

The Wife Who Mistook Debt for Love

The year Madison took the high school entrance exam, she scored first in the entire city and was accepted into the best private school in Havenport.

She never enrolled.

She couldn't afford the tuition.

I begged my father to sponsor her education, and he did, all the way until she started working part-time in college.

During her senior-year internship, the same rich kids who had bullied her in middle school kept making trouble for her. My father made an exception and brought her into our family company, teaching her everything himself.

Madison had a gift for business.

The financial reports that gave everyone else headaches made sense to her at first glance.

I used to sit beside her with my chin in my hand, watching the serious curve of her profile. To me, she was the most amazing person in the world.

My father saw through me.

Even though he knew Madison only felt gratitude toward me, he still helped her start her own company after graduation.

Madison carved out her own place in Havenport's story in just a year.

Later, my father made a desperate business decision while trying to raise money for her treatment when my mother fell ill.

Our company nearly went bankrupt.

It was Madison who pulled us back from the ledge.

My father always called her our family's savior. He told her the debt between us was settled, and she should live however she wanted.

Instead, Madison bowed deeply and pledged with full sincerity, "Mr. Gunn, I can never repay what you've done for me. Please entrust Travis to me. I will care for him for the rest of my life and ensure he never suffers, not even a little."

That old scar between my thumb and finger began to throb, as if remembering too.

I stared at the jagged scar, a bitter laugh rising in my throat. 'So, it's possible for someone to confuse gratitude with love.'

After that, I started acting like her husband even though I didn't possess that title.

I became a quiet fixture at her company, silently staking my claim.

Madison never corrected me. She even let me choose her personal assistant, only reminding me, "Pick a smart one. That's enough."

On the day of the interviews, I noticed Gerald right away.

It was not his resume that caught my eye. On paper, he was unremarkable: divorced, no children, nothing to set him apart.

It was his eyes. They mirrored the gentle gaze of Madison's late mother.

When her mother had still been lucid, she had treated Madison well. She had been the only light in Madison's miserable childhood.

So, I didn't ask questions.

I hired Gerald on the spot.

The instant Madison saw him, her eyes brimmed with tears.

That night, she clung to me and wept until her body trembled, whispering her thanks again and again.

I felt sorry for her.

So, I made sure Gerald was often at our home. I came up with all sorts of reasons for them to share quiet moments.

I thought I was helping her heal.

I had no idea I was paving my own road to ruin.

...

When the last whispers faded, I finally resurfaced from my memories and reached for my daughter's photo, my fingers automatically caressing the glass.

Ana came over with her roasted chestnuts and asked casually, "Travis, roasted chestnuts are so good. Why don't you ever eat them?"

My hand went still in midair.

A tide of painful memories swept me under.

Chestnuts had once been a small joy my mother and I shared.

Every time my father came home from work, he would bring back a warm paper bag full of them.

My mother would peel each chestnut, cool it with a gentle breath, and place it in my waiting hand.

The year she got sick, during her last brief moment of clarity, she kept saying she wanted chestnuts.

My father drove out to buy them.

Halfway there, he got the call that my mother was dying.

In his panic, he sped through the road and crashed head-on into a semi truck.

He died at the scene.

The warm chestnuts tumbled from the bag, rolling through a pool of his blood.

That winter, I lost both parents who had loved me more than anyone else, all in a single day. I spent the first snow mourning.

Ana's eyes filled with tears as she listened to my tale. She seemed adrift before she silently slid the chestnuts out of my reach.

Her voice softened as she murmured, "Travis, don't be sad. Lily and I will always be here with you."

She paused, then tried to change the subject. "School should be out soon. Why don't we take Lily around town tonight and—"

Before she could finish, her eyes suddenly locked on my daughter's photo.

More specifically, on my daughter's eyes.

Ana's mouth fell open in shock. "Travis... Lily's mother, the one who disappeared... it isn't..."

The Birthday She Betrayed Me

I nodded.

That single gesture said it all.

Ana hesitated for a long time before finally asking in a soft voice, her eyes full of unmistakable sympathy. "Then... those rumors... Travis, how much was it true?"

I froze.

Somehow, that simple concern made my nose sting.

The feeling passed just as quickly.

I forced a smile.

The truth was, Madison and I did have a handful of genuinely happy years together.

She proposed to me the day my parents died.

She had a lawyer draw up the paperwork and transferred all her company shares to me for free.

Then she got down on one knee and swore she would give me a new family, take care of me for the rest of my life, and that I needed to stop crying because seeing me in pain was breaking her heart.

I cried until I passed out.

Madison handled both of my parents' funerals herself.

We got married when I was finally of sound mind.

There was no wedding.

Our rings were nothing more than the plain matching bands we'd worn in college.

Yet, I felt content.

I truly believed I was the happiest man alive.

I gave Madison every piece of myself.

I understood her ambition, so I never demanded much in return.

Whenever she came home late, I kept the lights burning and waited in the quiet living room. If work took her away, I packed her bags and went along, eager to help.

In those early years, she never once let me down.

Madison loved me so openly and fiercely that even strangers envied what we had.

Front-page newspaper stories, digital billboards, and public displays all carried her confession.

She wanted the whole city to know she loved me.

Alas, everything crumbled around me just as I finally began to heal from my parents' loss.

Madison was having an affair with Gerald.

The man I once called my closest friend was caught on camera, kissing her and holding her close in the secluded garden atop a revolving restaurant.

And of all days, I had to find out about it on my birthday.

I spent hours setting the table with Madison's favorite dishes, dressed in the suit she once gave me. I waited the whole night, calling her again and again.

She answered every single time.

Every time, her voice was soft and reassuring. "Work dinner. Be good. I'll be home soon."

Gerald had even spent his entire year-end bonus buying me a designer watch, with a note attached: 'Happy birthday to my best friend.'

That night, wrapped in what I thought was happiness, I truly believed I had it all.

I never imagined the two people I loved most would be the ones to break me.

The moment I saw those headlines, I unraveled.

I tore down the streets, blinded by tears, barely missing two cars as I sped through the night.

I didn't care about anything else. I just needed answers.

When I reached the restaurant, Gerald was there, opening Madison's car door with practiced ease. I flung my own door open and charged toward them.

Madison immediately stepped in front of him, her eyes cold and showing no guilt. "Travis, what are you doing?"

Gerald peeked out from behind her, still wearing that same gentle expression as he greeted me.

The Anderson family heirloom necklace hung around his neck, the one Madison knew I secretly adored but never dared to wear. A dark red mark glared back at me right next to it.

Something deep inside me shattered.

I lunged at him, wild and desperate, fists flying harder with every blow.

"I treated you like family!" I shouted. "I looked after you like a brother! Why would you do this to me?"

Gerald burst into tears, stumbling behind Madison, but in his eyes I saw a glint of triumph.

Madison shoved me aside with all her strength and rushed to comfort him, her touch gentle as he sobbed in her arms.

I crashed onto the pavement, clutching my stomach as pain tore through me. As I raised my head, I saw them clinging to each other. My lungs refused to work.

Madison spun toward me, fury in her eyes, ready to unleash her anger until she froze. She saw blood spreading quickly across my shirt.

I was hospitalized.

The stab wound I had gotten just days earlier while protecting Madison had been torn open by Madison herself.