By the fifth year of my marriage to Noah Lester, everyone insisted that I, Emma Newman, was his eternal muse.

But I knew the truth.

Behind my back, Noah cycled through a parade of fresh-faced, eager lovers. He even flaunted them at social gatherings, swapping one for another with shameless ease.

When friends teased him—"Didn’t you swear Emma was the love of your life? Why the revolving door of mistresses?"—he’d just laugh, arms slung around his latest conquests.

"Once you’ve caught your muse the glow fades. Give me someone new and tender any day—at least they keep things exciting."

So I began plotting my escape.

What Noah never realized was that I had grown tired of him, too. Tired of this life, of these performances.

I was done.

I was carrying a lunchbox to Noah Lester’s office.

It was already late at night, and the building had emptied hours ago.

Only the lights in Noah’s office still burned brightly.

The sharp click of my heels echoed down the hallway, but it couldn’t drown out the soft moans coming from his office.

He and his new secretary hadn’t even bothered to shut the door properly.

I could clearly hear their voices.

“Mr. Lester,” she purred. “You’re always so rough with me. Tell me—am I the one you love most?”

Through the narrow crack in the door, I saw Jill Spencer draped across his body.

He must’ve been drinking as his words were slurred, but I couldn’t tell how much of what he said was true.

“Love you? Don’t be ridiculous. I just like doing you. The one I love most is obviously my wife.

“She’s my muse—my first love, the one I cherished in my youth. She’s the love of my life. No one will ever come close.”

I stood frozen in place.

My hand gripped the doorknob, but I couldn’t bring myself to push it open.

How ironic.

Here I was, witnessing my husband’s infidelity with my own eyes, while he whispered declarations of love for me.

My heart shattered into pieces. I bit down so hard on the inside of my cheek that I could almost taste blood.

Noah had made a vicious oath the day he proposed to me.

“If I ever betray Emma Newman, let me die a horrible death—hit by a car, choked on water, drowned in the bath…”

But I hadn’t let him finish.

I’d cut him off, laughing as I looked up at him with eyes full of trust.

“If you ever betray me, I’ll punish you in my own way! I hope you never live to see that day, Noah!”

He used to hold me close with such tenderness, always saying that day would never come.

And I believed him.

I never imagined the man who once sacrificed his health to save my life, the man whose hair turned half-gray before thirty from donating his bone marrow to me, would ever betray me.

Ten years of love.

Ten years of lies.

And now, Noah, you’ve outdone yourself.

“I don’t believe it! The person you love most can only be me! How could it possibly be that sickly woman you have at home?”

Jill sobbed into his chest, her voice trembling through her tears.

“That sick woman of yours can’t even satisfy you. How could you love her?”

Noah, clearly moved by her outburst, softened his tone to soothe her.

“It’s you, alright? It’s you.

“You women are all the same—so much fuss over a few words.”

Jill quickly looked up, her face a mixture of tears and laughter.

She climbed onto his lap and began to move slowly against him, gently biting his earlobe.

“This isn’t fussing,” she whispered. “It’s a battle between women.”

But just as she settled in, Noah’s hand shot up and clamped hard around her throat.

“You can throw as many tantrums as you want in front of me, demand anything you desire, just don’t let my wife find out about us.

“You know what’ll happen if she does. You’ll wish you never met me!”

I stood in the shadows outside the office, watching the scene unfold, and suddenly, I laughed.

If I didn’t know any better, I might have believed this man actually loved me.

So this was it?

Because my body was weak, because I couldn’t satisfy him in bed, Noah thought that justified cheating?

Strangely, I didn’t even feel the urge to barge in and confront him.

Instead, I quietly raised my phone and took a few photos, then turned and walked away, lunchbox in hand, without making a sound.

Behind me, Jill’s choked whimpers filled the air.

"I-I understand, Mr. Lester! I was just talking nonsense—I’d never tell your wife!"

"Good girl."

His chuckle dripped with condescension.

"That’s why you’re my favorite."

The moment his moans of pleasure echoed into the hallway, I quickened my steps, fleeing as if the walls themselves were poisoned.

Just as I stepped out of the building, my phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number.

[Mrs. Lester, did you enjoy tonight’s performance? If not, I’d be happy to throw in a few more acts—free of charge!]

Expressionless, I typed out a reply: [Noah warned you just now. Aren’t you afraid he’ll find out you contacted me?]

[Mr. Lester is lying exhausted on top of me right now. He’s got no energy to think about anything else.

[But Mrs. Lester, you’d better prepare those divorce papers soon—unless you want to be thrown out with nothing but your pride.]

I wandered home in a daze, the night wind biting through my clothes.

By the time I returned, it was already past midnight.

I had assumed Noah wouldn’t be coming home tonight, but to my surprise, he was at the villa.

He was holding his phone, about to call me.

When he saw me step through the door, his panicked expression softened with visible relief.

“Darling, where have you been this late at night? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

With practiced gentleness, Noah took my coat and scarf and hung them carefully on the rack.

He had always been considerate.

Ever since my health had declined, he’d forbidden me from lifting a finger, hiring chefs to ensure I never cooked for more than the strict weekly limit he’d imposed.

But when he spotted the lunchbox still in my hand, his composure cracked.

“Why are you still holding your lunchbox?”

I let out a soft laugh and placed it in his hands.

“I was going to bring it to you, but by the time I got to your office, everything was already closed, so I came back.”

He let out a visible sigh of relief, his tense body finally relaxed.

He pulled me into a tight embrace, resting his head on my shoulder with a look of deep devotion.

“You’re too good to me, Darling. Even this late, you were still thinking of me.”

He opened the lunchbox. It was filled with all his favorite dishes.

Noah’s eyes turned red.

He didn’t care that the food had gone cold and dug in, devouring it in large, eager bites.

I plucked a single hair from my shoulder - one he'd just shed - and couldn't stop myself from saying, "It's gone cold. Don't eat it like that, you know your stomach can't handle it. At least heat it up first."

But Noah had already eaten more than half the meal in a frenzy.

“It’s fine. Even if the food you made had gone bad, I’d still eat every bite,” he said, without pause.

I said nothing more.

I turned and headed for the bedroom.

On the coffee table nearby, a hairpin caught my eye.

I knew that hairpin well.

I had just seen it earlier that night, tucked into Jill’s styled hair.

At that moment, Noah rushed over, his face full of guilt.

“Work’s been overwhelming lately. I haven’t had time for you. This was meant to be a gift. Once this busy period is over, I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

When we got married, Noah promised he’d always make time for dinner with me, no matter how busy he got.

But now that I thought about it, we hadn’t had dinner together in nearly a week.

Still, I didn’t confront him.

I picked up the hairpin and examined the scratches on its surface.

“It has marks on it. Looks like someone’s already used it.”

Noah didn’t even flinch.

He met my eyes with unwavering confidence.

"Must have been damaged when I bought it," he said smoothly, plucking the hairpin from my fingers with practiced ease.

"My wife doesn’t deserve scratched jewelry. I'll get you something new tomorrow."

I smiled silently.

I watched as he pocketed the evidence, the subtle release of tension in his shoulders betraying his relief.

After washing up, I lay down in bed.

It hadn’t been long before Noah joined me.

He leaned in, his breath warm against my neck.

One of his hands slowly slipped beneath the hem of my nightgown, but I had no interest in this charade.

The thought that he’d just come from another woman made my stomach churn.

“Don’t,” I said flatly. “Noah, I’m tired tonight.

“And besides, with this body of mine, I could never satisfy you—not the way you want.”

It was meant to be a simple test of words.

But it left him visibly shaken.

His eyes darted around, his voice uncertain.

“What are you talking about, Darling? Why would you say that?”

I suddenly felt drained, so I closed my eyes and said nothing more.

Moments later, I sneezed several times, my face flushed with a strange heat, my forehead burning.

Noah, who had been quietly watching me, immediately panicked.

He scrambled to get dressed, then scooped me into his arms and rushed to the hospital.

By the time I regained consciousness, I was already lying in a hospital bed.

Noah held my hand, his palm brushing my forehead every few moments, checking for a fever.

When he saw my eyes flutter open, his voice trembled with emotion.

“You’re finally awake, darling. You scared me to death.”

How could a man who looked at me with such tenderness still choose to betray me?

Noah stayed by my side until dawn.

I woke to the shrill ring of his phone.

Seeing me stir, he frowned and declined the call, only for it to ring again immediately.

Once.

Twice.

The incessant noise drilled into my skull.

“You should head back to the office,” I said softly.

“I’m fine now. I’ll be discharged soon.”

He hesitated before nodding slowly.

“Well… you know how hectic things have been at work lately. I really can’t—”

“I know,” I interrupted gently. “I understand.”

That calm, compliant response made him pause longer than usual.

He looked as if he didn’t know whether to stay or go.

But then a new message from Jill lit up his phone screen.

I had caught a glimpse of the content.

She wore a maid's costume, barely covering anything.

Desire darkened his eyes before he wrestled it under control.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Emma? If there’s anything—anything at all—don’t keep it in. I’m your husband. I’ll always be your strongest support.”

I turned my face to the side, away from him.

“Mm,” I murmured, my voice even.

He couldn’t resist the temptation for long and eventually rose to his feet.

“Then I’ll head to the office for a bit. I’ll come pick you up this evening, I promise.”

The moment he left, I realized my cheeks were wet.

I hadn’t even noticed I’d started crying.

Silently, I reached for my phone and typed a message to Jill.

[Noah is on his way to you now. Let’s see if you can get him to sign the divorce papers.]

Jill responded instantly—as if she’d been waiting.

[Since you’re so kindly handing your position over to me, of course, I’ll grant your wish. A divorce agreement? Please. He’ll sign anything for me.]

I attached the prepared documents and sent one final line: [I do hope your confidence lasts.]

Her reply came dripping with venom: [Oh, I’m nothing like you, sickly little woman. You’ve no idea how obsessed he is with me.

[Even when I’m on my period, he can’t keep his hands off me. He’d rather die on top of me than spend another night with your pathetic—]

I powered off my phone.

Then I stepped out of the hospital room and took the opportunity to schedule a health checkup.

Ever since Noah donated his bone marrow to me, I have stayed on a strict regimen of recovery and care.

The doctor’s voice was calm and warm when he spoke to me.

“Ms. Newman, your condition has improved significantly. Now would be an ideal time if you’re considering getting pregnant.”

I had always looked forward to regaining my health, so I could finally plan for a baby with Noah.

But now, none of it mattered anymore.

“Thank you, Doctor. But I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I was only curious about my bone marrow status.”

Satisfied with the results, I stepped out of the consultation room.

Just as I exited, I heard a familiar voice drifting out from the exam room next door.

“Doctor, can you check what’s going on?”

Noah’s voice sounded strained, laced with fear, punctuated by Jill’s sharp cries of pain.

The doctor examined her quickly, his tone disapproving.

“Ruptured corpus luteum. Bear with it,” he said briskly.

“Even if you're young and healthy, you can’t treat your body like this. Recklessness has consequences.”

I froze mid-step, standing just outside the door, struggling to hold back the sting of tears welling up behind my eyes.

So this was the legendary stamina that made my sickly body inadequate.

A laugh escaped me, bitter and brittle, before I turned toward the discharge desk.

I knew better than to expect Noah now, and no longer intended to wait for him.

Sure enough, as darkness fell, my phone finally rang.

“I’m sorry, Darling,” Noah said, sounding apologetic.

“Things are still chaotic at the office, and I really can’t get away right now.

“I know I promised to pick you up, but it looks like I’ll have to break my word again.”

The guilt in his voice was almost convincing.

I muttered a few half-hearted replies, just enough to get through the call, and hung up.