Three days ago, Nick had an episode. He kicked me in the stomach.

I was four months pregnant. The baby didn't make it.

Because of that one blow, my uterus was damaged. The doctor said I might never be able to conceive again.

That day, Nick knelt at my hospital bed for a long time, crying. He swore he'd control himself from now on, swore he'd never hurt me again.

But over the past three years, I'd heard that promise too many times. It stirred nothing in me anymore.

I thought about it for three days before finally deciding to persuade him to seek special treatment abroad.

And now, today, I ended up hearing the biggest lie of all.

"Honey? Why aren't you saying anything? Can't hear me?"

I wiped the wetness from my cheeks and replied as if nothing had happened. "I hear you. The ward felt stuffy. I just stepped out for a bit."

Nick let out a sigh of relief. His voice softened, coaxing, like he was talking to a child. "My fault. Work's been too hectic—I've been neglecting you. Linda, if the room's too stuffy, how about I get you discharged? Didn't you always say you wanted to travel? Let me take you."

His gentle tone pierced straight through me. My chest ached with every breath.

Nick and I were childhood sweethearts. He always protected me when we were kids. Whenever the adults teased him about finding a future wife, he'd lift his little face and declare without hesitation that I was the one.

We dated. We married. Everything went smoothly.

Our parents gave their blessings. Our friends looked on with envy.

But these past three years, he had taken back every ounce of love he ever gave me, leaving nothing but hatred and lies.

I took a slow breath, about to respond, when I heard the sudden edge of tension in his voice from the other end.

"Honey, something came up at the office. You go ahead and get discharged first. We'll talk when I get home."

He hung up in a rush.

I lowered my hand and stared at the park, at the children running and laughing in the sun. After a long moment, I made a call.

"Lucas, I want a divorce."

My brother, Lucas Bergman, went quiet for a few seconds. He didn't try to talk me out of it. He just said, "If you need help, just say the word. Don't carry it all on your own."

I let out a soft "Mm," and a small warmth flickered in my chest.

The moment we hung up, Lucas sent me a lawyer.

I got in touch, explained my situation, and asked him to draft a divorce agreement. Then I headed to the hospital to start the discharge process.

But what I didn't expect… was to see someone who'd been "dead" for three years—Casey.

She was wearing a hospital gown, her face pale, her body weak and boneless as she leaned into Nick's arms.

She whispered something. Nick's face darkened. His eyes went cold.

My heart began to race wildly, like something had reached up from the depths and grabbed hold of my ankle, dragging me down.

That expression on Nick's face—it was the same one he wore when he lost control. The next second, his fists could come flying.

My heart leapt to my throat as I watched him slowly reach toward Casey.

But then, that hand gently wiped away the tear at the corner of her eye.

I exhaled, my body going slack as I leaned against the wall for support. A bitter laugh slipped from my lips.

Of course. It was Casey—the woman he had longed for, mourned, and obsessed over for three years. And I'd actually thought… I'd actually thought he might hurt her like he hurt me.

How stupid could I be?

I went home in a daze. The wedding photo on the wall was cracked and splintered into pieces. My chest tightened like something sharp had been driven into it.

I had picked that photo out of thousands. Nick had personally hung it there himself.

But as his episodes worsened, the frame had been replaced over and over.

This time, no one bothered to change it.

That night, I heard the door open at the entryway.

When Nick walked in, I was staring at the divorce agreement the lawyer had sent me.

Unlike all the other times, he didn't ignore me. For the first time in what felt like forever, he walked straight toward me.

I closed the browser calmly, as if it were nothing. The next second, I was pulled into a warm embrace.

His chin rested on my shoulder, lips curved into a faint smile.

"What were you looking at? You were so focused you didn't even notice I was home."

"Nothing," I said. "Just browsing."

Seeing my calm expression, Nick frowned, but said nothing.

I watched him pick up his pajamas and head toward the bathroom. After a long hesitation, I called out to him.

"Nick, why won't you go abroad for treatment? Do you really love me? Or… is there someone else in your heart? Have these past three years just been one long lie?"

For the past three years, I'd reshaped myself into something unrecognizable—someone soft, quiet, without sharp edges. I became a gentle imitation of a person, just to keep his emotions steady.

I never got angry in front of him. I didn't even allow myself the smallest flicker of unpleasant emotion.

Somewhere along the line, I'd forgotten I was still human, that I needed release, too.

Nick's face darkened. For a fleeting second, guilt flickered in his eyes.

He crouched in front of me and took my hand, his voice low and soothing. "I'm sorry, Linda. I thought I could control myself. I didn't expect it to happen again and again. But please, believe me—I do love you. I've never lied to you. Not once."

Looking into his eyes, so full of apparent sincerity, all I could feel was how absurd it was.

"Is that right?" I asked, my voice quiet. "Then do you still remember what you said the day you confessed to me?"

He fell silent.

I knew he remembered.

That day, when he told me he loved me, he also promised—he would never lie to me, never betray me. That he would cherish me, always.

And I had told him then, if he ever broke that promise, I would leave him without a backward glance.

I smiled faintly, gently brushing the corner of his eye with my fingers. "Nick, I hope you keep your word. I'll keep mine. If I ever find out you've lied to me or betrayed me, I'll leave. And you'll never find me again."

Panic swept across his face. He pulled me into a desperate embrace, as if trying to fuse me into his bones. His voice trembled against my ear. "No, Linda. We're not going to separate. Never—not in this lifetime."

"Do you remember?" he continued, voice unsteady. "That year in college—you went hiking with your friends. There was a sudden downpour. I was afraid something would happen to you, so I ran into the mountains in the rain to look for you. I slipped. Fell down the slope. Almost died.

"You were so scared. I spent a month in the hospital. You asked me if I regretted going after you. I told you I didn't. So believe me, Linda. I love you. I'd never betray you. Never lie to you. I'll get better. I'll control myself. I'll go through with the treatment. Please… don't give up on me."

My neck felt damp with tears, but my heart had already sunk to the bottom.

Nick was a masterful liar. Even now, he was still deceiving me.

But seeing the peace on my face, he assumed—like always—that I'd been placated. He gently kissed my forehead and stood up, heading into the bathroom.

Soon, the sound of running water echoed from behind the door.

At the same time, Nick's phone began to ring. Again and again.

I had never gone through his phone, which was probably why I never knew he'd been lying to me for three years.

But now, suddenly, I wanted to know. What else was he hiding?

The messages were from Casey. He'd saved her contact with a nickname: Bunny.

Bunny: [Nicky, thank you so much for today. I really don't know what I would've done without you. You're really going to let Linda raise the baby? What if she finds out the baby's mine? Would she treat him badly?]

Bunny: [Nicky, even if Jacob is a bastard, the child is innocent. I just want him to grow up in a healthy family. So if Linda won't accept him, I can find a new daddy for him.]

A child?

I had just lost my baby. And Nick—he was already eager to raise someone else's.

My fingers trembled. I couldn't understand it.

The man who once said he'd die for me—how could he now be so unbelievably cruel?

The sound of running water from the bathroom stopped abruptly.

I quickly marked the messages as unread. I hadn't even had time to set the phone down when a force slammed into me from behind. My head struck the corner of the nightstand with a sharp thud, and a wave of pain surged through me.

Then came Nick's furious voice, laced with disbelief and rage. "Who said you could touch my phone? Linda, do you even understand what personal privacy means?"

Nick's expression was dark. His brows were tightly drawn together, eyes cold and fierce.

The way he looked at me made my skin crawl. I instinctively shrank back.

His expression shifted. He reached out toward me. "Baby, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Don't come near me." I raised a hand to shield my head, my voice trembling with fear.

His hand froze in midair. The room fell into a terrible, suffocating silence.

Three years. I'd dodged that same hand more times than I could count. Pleaded with him, begged him not to lose control.

But my begging never changed anything.

His face twitched, like he'd only just remembered his diagnosis—intermittent explosive disorder.

He withdrew his hand, his voice hardening. "You're the one who touched my phone first. That's why I lost control and pushed you. You brought this on yourself. Don't touch my phone again. We might be married, but I still have a right to privacy."

With that, he turned and left without hesitation.

As he walked away, I caught the faintest trace of a smile tug at the corner of his lips when he looked at the screen.

The moment he left the room, my entire body went slack with relief.

Nick was like a ticking time bomb. One wrong move, and I'd be blown to pieces.

I didn't know how much he loved Casey. I didn't even know if he would leave me for her.

What I did know was that I feared his episodes. I feared the next moment he would "lose control" again.

So, I booked a flight for tomorrow. I left all the divorce arrangements to my lawyer.

The next morning, when I got up, Nick was shockingly in the kitchen.

He came out carrying a rather unimpressive-looking breakfast, while carefully packing another, far more refined one, into a lunchbox.

Noticing my confusion, he gave me a gentle smile. "This one's for the office. Baby, I was wrong last night. I let my emotions get the better of me and pushed you. I promise, it won't happen again. Just forgive me this once, okay?"

I pulled out a chair and sat down. "You've made this promise so many times over the past three years. Why should I believe you now?"

The smile on his face froze.

He crouched in front of me, more solemn than ever. "I swear, this time it really is the last time."

I looked straight into his eyes and tested him. "If you do it again, we'll get divorced. How's that?"

His expression darkened instantly. His grip on my hand tightened—too much.

Then he stared at me with frightening sincerity. "No. We're not getting divorced. We promised to be together forever, remember? I won't allow it. I'll change. If I lose control again, you can punish me however you want—but I won't divorce you. Ever."

His gaze seemed to pierce straight through me, and for a second, I felt cold all over.

I pulled my hand away and forced a smile. "I was just kidding, Nick. You should get to work."

But instead of leaving, he sat down across from me, eyes locked on mine like he was afraid I might disappear.

He grinned. "I'm not going to work today. I'm staying home with you."

His stare made my skin crawl. I knew then—I'd crossed a line. The moment I mentioned divorce, I'd stepped right on the edge of his control.

Before I could figure out what to do, his phone rang.

He glanced at it, frowned slightly, then turned to me. "I'm gonna take this call real quick. Think about where you want to go today. I'll take you anywhere."

He walked into the study.

I looked at the lunchbox on the table. Deep down, I already knew—it wasn't for the office. It was probably meant for Casey.

Moments later, Nick rushed out. As he passed me, he paused briefly, hesitating.

"Baby, I forgot—I've got something urgent at work. I'll come pick you up once I'm done, okay? Just stay home. Don't go anywhere."

He grabbed the lunchbox and hurried out the door.

I stepped onto the balcony. Down by the curb, I saw Casey waiting.

She looked to be about four or five months pregnant. Nick guided her into the car with the utmost care.

Just before the door closed, Casey looked up—her eyes locked onto mine. She smiled. Smug. Triumphant. And waved.

But what she didn't expect was the expression on my face. No shock. No panic.

The car sped away. Without hesitation, I headed downstairs and hailed a cab to the airport.

While Nick accompanied Casey for her prenatal checkup, he couldn't shake the hollow feeling in his chest.

More than once, he picked up his phone and stared at my number, but he couldn't bring himself to dial.

Until Bryan's call came in. He answered and froze.

"Sir," Bryan said, "a lawyer came by. Said he's been authorized by your wife to discuss the terms of your divorce."