Before entering the operating room, Odette looked at Benedict and said, “Your condition is critical. If we can't save your eyes, you'll be permanently blind. You can wait for a more experienced doctor if you'd prefer...”

Benedict cut her off, his voice unwavering. “You perform the surgery. Whatever the outcome, I'll accept it.”

Without hesitation, Odette skipped the formalities and started the operation immediately.

A moment of crisis came during the surgery, but Odette met it with calm precision.

As Odette stumbled out of the operating room, her body barely holding up from exhaustion, Benedict’s mother slapped her across the face, the sound echoing through the room.

“How dare you, with your status, perform surgery on my son without permission?” she demanded, her voice seething with fury.

Odette didn’t explain, not a single word. With calm determination, she pushed her aside. She walked straight back into the chaos of saving lives, where every second mattered.

The surgery was a success.

When Benedict woke up and discovered his mother had slapped Odette, guilt weighed heavily on him.

For Odette, Benedict had been her very first surgery patient, and she had taken that responsibility to heart. Whenever she found a moment, she stayed by his side, checking for any discomfort and tending to him with care and precision.

Before the bandages were removed, Benedict had imagined Odette’s appearance countless times, picturing her through nothing but the sound of her voice.

But none of those fleeting images could compare to the instant his sight was restored.

The moment he opened his eyes, he was struck by a love so immediate, so deep, it felt as though he had been waiting a lifetime for it.

Benedict promised Odette the best of everything, swearing to give her his perfect, unwavering love.

During yesterday’s global economic interview, Benedict didn’t hesitate for a moment to publicly declare his love for Odette.

“My wife is a brilliant doctor who saves lives. She pulled me from the darkness and gave me back my sight,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

“She is my eyes. Without her, I wouldn’t know what to do.”

The host, with exaggerated enthusiasm, remarked, “Wow, Mr. Evander really is a hopeless romantic, truly a role model for men everywhere!”

The cheerful host winked at Benedict, and he returned the gesture with a loving smile.

But as Odette watched the interview, her heart felt like it was being torn in two.

So it was that obvious, wasn’t it?

Benedict’s phone buzzed, and a message from a woman named Millicent Ravensdale appeared on the screen, saved in his contacts as “Secretary Ravensdale.”

Odette glanced at it casually, never having paid much attention to his secretary’s surname until now. Only then did she realize that he had just one secretary and that secretary was a man who didn’t share that surname.

The message oozed with a flirtatious tone, Millicent lamenting the damage to her car after an accident.

Benedict responded with calm reassurance, even promising her a riverside villa in the newly opened development.

Such generosity.

A villa worth tens of millions is offered as if it were a simple gift.

The same villa complex that Benedict had named Odette Haven, a gesture to win her heart. Everyone knew it had been purchased as a symbol of his affection for her.

And yet, Benedict so casually handed it over to another woman as if it were nothing more than a trinket.

They say a man’s money follows his heart.

Odette felt her heart plummet.

It was easy for her to pull up Millicent’s WhatsApp profile and click through to her Instagram feed.

Sure enough, Millicent’s latest post read: [Had a little fender-bender yesterday. No biggie, just a scare. I’m such a clutz. Can’t even drive without making my big brother worry about me.]

Attached to the caption was a collage of nine pictures, each more meticulously staged than the last.

At the center was one image with the words: [The love from someone who truly loves you is always worth flaunting.]

The location tag beneath it read: No. 1, Odette Haven Riverside Villas, North City Road.

Millicent, sensing that Odette might miss her post, intentionally tagged her.

Odette responded with a soft, indifferent smile, liking Millicent’s post without a second thought.

The day before, they’d exchanged WhatsApp contacts during the negotiation for the fender-bender compensation, but Odette had used her work account.

Benedict didn’t have her work account saved.

When they arrived at the French restaurant, Millicent sent Odette a message. [Do you believe I can make him come running to me with just one phone call?]

Odette casually remarked, “This car is surprisingly sturdy. I got into a small collision yesterday after work.”

Benedict’s gaze snapped up, concerned about flooding his eyes. “Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“It’s nothing. Just a scratch on the car,” Odette reassured him, shaking her head lightly.

"Who dared lay a hand on you? If anything had happened, I wouldn’t let them get away with it!" Benedict said coldly, his voice sharp.

Watching the man who still seemed to care for her as much as ever, Odette felt a cold shiver crawl down her spine.

How could he deceive her so effortlessly, all while tangled up with another woman?

While she spent her time in operating rooms, saving lives, was Benedict out there, indulging in pleasures and distractions elsewhere?

"It's nothing. Can we just go home? The crabapple flowers..."

But before she could finish, Benedict’s phone buzzed. His expression darkened as he took the call. "Alright, I’ll be there right away.”

"Odette, one of the shareholders, pulled out. I need to go back to the company immediately. If you're not hungry anymore, I'll have the driver take you home first, okay?"

His coaxing was filled with anxiety, and Odette gave a weak nod.

After he left, Odette opened the location-tracking app on her phone.

The map showed that Benedict hadn’t gone to the company at all.

He had gone to one of the hotels he often frequented.

“Madam, would you still like to dine at the French restaurant?” the driver asked.

“Yes,” Odette replied, her voice steady as she stepped out of the car and entered the restaurant.

The waiter presented the dishes Benedict had ordered in advance, but the first bite left a bitter taste in her mouth.

She placed her spoon down, the meal suddenly unappetizing, and picked up the phone.

“Hello, may I ask if VIP Suite 888 is occupied tonight?” she asked the hotel’s front desk.

“Of course! That’s Mr. Evander’s exclusive suite. He even sometimes brings his wife here,” the receptionist responded, her tone laced with excitement.

“What does his wife look like?” Odette asked, her voice deceptively calm.

Each question she asked felt like a knife twisting deeper into her heart.

It felt like a slow, relentless death, each word a sharp cut, each moment an agonizing reminder of her helplessness.

Odette had spent her life-saving others, performing surgeries with the precision of a seasoned surgeon. But now, for the first time, she felt like a helpless fish, laid bare and vulnerable, at the mercy of Benedict’s quiet, cutting gaze.

“She must be incredibly beautiful. I’ve heard she’s a doctor, and everyone knows she’s his favorite. But we've never had the pleasure of seeing her face up close,” the receptionist sighed, almost wistfully.

Odette’s mind involuntarily drifted to Millicent, radiant, youthful, and undeniably stunning.

She had always known the whispers. The envy and admiration from others who saw her as the woman who had won Benedict’s heart.

But the darker whispers followed, too, cruel words behind her back, branding her as an old hag, a woman who had used their child as a means to trap Benedict in her web.

It wasn’t just the hotel, the roses, or the jewelry; it was everything. All of it belonged to Millicent.

Odette could barely stomach the words the receptionist spoke. The mention of “big brother” and how Benedict had showered Millicent with gifts was the final straw.

“I often hear Mr. Evander’s wife calling him ‘big brother.’ Honestly, it’s quite a skill; imagine being six years older and still managing to call him that,” the receptionist mused.

“Mr. Evander never forgets her, always red roses, sparkling jewelry, and other gifts. It’s truly enviable...”

Odette’s heart twisted with the weight of the words. She couldn’t listen anymore. With one sharp motion, she hung up.

She had never set foot in that hotel. Not once.

And everything she had believed, every gesture of love she had been part of, now felt like a cruel mirage. The hotel, the flowers, the jewels, they were all Millicent’s.

The receptionist, still confused, muttered to a nearby colleague, “Some random person called, asking about Mr. Evander’s visits. Then, I just hung up. What a jealous type.”

The location-tracking app had always been there, a silent reminder of the bond Odette and Benedict once shared. Installed together before their marriage, it had been a symbol of safety. Now, it only felt like a haunting presence, one they both left on, even as their love faded.

Odette returned home alone, the weight of her heart heavier with each step.

Nine days. Only nine days left.

She stood in the rain, her eyes raw and swollen, watching as the workers chopped down the crabapple trees in the yard, the ones she had cherished above all.

As each tree fell, Odette felt as though a part of her soul was uprooted with it. The promise they had shared, the dream of swinging beneath the blooming branches, slipped further away with each falling bough.

“When the crabapple flowers bloom, we’ll swing together in the yard, alright?”

It had been their promise.

But now, there was no waiting for those flowers to bloom.

She stared at the crumpled remnants of the trees, lost in the past, her heart too broken to hold on to hope.

“What a pity. These trees were so well cared for... They would’ve bloomed next month,” one worker whispered, his voice tinged with regret.

“Doesn’t matter. If the madam doesn’t want them, they’re gone. In Mr. Evander’s heart, her word is law,” the other murmured as the trees fell one by one.

After the loss of the crabapple trees, Odette’s long-dormant pancreatitis flared up violently. The pain hit her like a storm, leaving her disoriented and lost in a fog.

In her haze, she tried calling Benedict repeatedly, but each ring went unanswered.

Eventually, the pain became too much, and in the blur of her last moments of consciousness, she managed to call for an ambulance before slipping into darkness.

The following day, Benedict returned home, stumbling through the door, reeking of alcohol after a night of indulgence.

As he passed through the yard, he stopped, staring blankly at the barren space where the crabapple trees had once stood. His eyes lingered for a moment, but he didn’t notice the emptiness that had settled in the air.

Without a second thought, he bent over and vomited where the trees had been.

A moment of clarity washed over him as he straightened, feeling slightly more sober. He staggered into the house, making his way upstairs to the master bedroom.

When he collapsed onto the bed, he pulled Odette into his arms, his body craving the comfort of her warmth.

He sighed deeply, trying to find peace in the silence.

But just as he settled, the distant wail of an ambulance siren sliced through the stillness.

Startled, Benedict gently pushed Odette aside, only to find her frowning, unconscious, completely unaware of his presence.

A sudden chill ran down Benedict’s spine as he realized something was horribly wrong. Without a second thought, he scooped Odette into his arms and rushed downstairs.

“Dr. Clarendon called the hospital; she’s having a pancreatitis attack,” one of Odette’s colleagues explained, worry thick in their voice.

“Get her to the hospital. Now!” Benedict ordered, trying to keep his voice steady, but his body betrayed him, shaking with anxiety.

It wasn’t the first time Odette had faced this attack. But the last time had been years ago, three or four to be exact.

Her intense work schedule, skipping meals, staying up far too late, and always putting herself last had been the culprit back then.

Since being with Benedict, though, those attacks had become a distant memory, thanks to his careful attention to her health.

Now, as he clutched her hand, a rush of guilt surged through him as he stared at the missed calls from Millicent.

Without a second thought, he dismissed her call with a sharp tap of his finger, a cold decision that felt oddly right.

At the hospital, Odette was rushed into emergency care.

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Benedict’s frantic face, his eyes bloodshot from worry.

“Baby, you scared me to death,” he breathed, his voice cracking as he pressed a gentle kiss to her hand.

Tears slipped quietly down Odette’s cheeks, yet she remained silent, her heart heavy with words she couldn’t find.

For the next three days, Benedict hardly left her side, his presence a constant, though his mind lingered elsewhere; whenever Millicent called, a pang of guilt gnawed at him.

The day Odette was finally discharged, Benedict held her gently as they walked through the yard. It was then that he noticed the absence; the crabapple trees were gone.

“What happened to the trees? Where are our crabapple trees? Who would dare destroy them?”

Fury surged within him as he turned to the housekeeper, Caroline, who trembled under his gaze.

“I had them cut down. They died,” Odette replied softly, her face as pale as the winter sky, yet a faint, forced smile played on her lips, masking the storm inside.