"Ms. Walsh, wait a minute!"

I turned around to see the young nurse from earlier.

She handed me a document.

I glanced at it and noticed a few prominent words.

Uterine Cancer.

"Ms. Walsh, your condition is already in the advanced stage."

I nodded, not surprised.

It had been diagnosed five months ago.

If Jeffrey had cared more about me, he would have discovered it long ago.

But now, I was weary and had no intention of telling him.

With resolve in my eyes, I spoke slowly, "Could you not inform my husband?"

The next day, I was discharged from the hospital.

The doctor advised me to consult my family, given my weakened state.

With a bitter smile, I said, "He doesn't have the time."

And he wouldn't care about my life.

I returned home and, like countless other nights, prepared dinner and waited for Jeffrey to come home.

Jeffrey pushed open the door, bringing the unique chill of an autumn night.

He appeared taken aback by my early discharge.

He frowned, and his expression visibly darkened, "Why are you discharged so soon? You just had a miscarriage and you're still running around. You'll end up back in the hospital soon. What will people say about me?"

He was a prominent movie star in the entertainment industry, with a career that was currently thriving.

However, during the peak of my popularity, I chose to marry him and disappeared entirely from the public eye.

However, the rumors about our marriage online had always been positive, which was also the character that Jeffrey had established.

Following my miscarriage, there had been significant discussion about it on the internet.

I left the hospital without his permission, making him displeased.

After all, I was just a tool he used.

The nails dug into the flesh, causing intense pain.

Unable to bear it any longer, I rose to my feet with tear-filled eyes, "Where were you when I was in the delivery room?"

His movements halted. His demeanor turned icy, "Do I need to report every detail to you? You took so long to give birth to the child. Shouldn't I have something to do?"

Suddenly, his phone rang. When he saw who was calling, his expression softened instantly.

He said, "What happened? Did you injure yourself? Does it hurt? I'm on my way."

With that, he went out without hesitation and slammed the door.

I sat motionless on the sofa, a chill gripping me as tears streamed down my face.

A single sentence from Isabel could make him leave without hesitation.

Finally, I couldn't bear it anymore and broke down crying with my hands covering my face.

Jeffrey, I was also injured.

My heart was bleeding.

The pain was unbearable.

I didn't know how long I cried when the text message ringtone suddenly rang.

My red eyes subconsciously lit up as I saw the sender's name.

I unlocked my phone to find a nude photo of a man.

Jeffrey's face flushed, his body naked, hugging Isabel tightly.

The photo was sent by Isabel.

She also sent a text devoid of any hint of pity.

"Anna, Mr. Fuller was intoxicated and came to me, so I looked after him for you."

"By the way, I cut my finger with a kitchen knife today, and Mr. Fuller was so worried. He was so stubborn that he could finish my unpalatable meal."

Isabel appeared irritated and smug in the message, basking in Jeffrey's affection.

She could easily get what I had worked so hard to get all my life.

"It's clear that his heart belongs to me. The person who can heal him and comfort him is me, Isabel, from beginning to end!"

Boom!

A shattering sound echoed within me, dimming the light in my eyes.

I had devoted myself wholly to someone, but a chilling realization poured over me like ice-cold water.

I glanced at the cold, untouched meal on the table.

While I was in excruciating pain during labor, he didn't care about me at all.

But he rushed to Isabel for a minor injury on her hand.

I looked at the ring on my hand and touched it gently.

There was only a tiny diamond shining with a light that was not that dazzling.

Back then, when Isabel pursued fame to choose another man, Jeffrey suffered a mental breakdown and couldn't get out of it for a long time.

I stood faithfully by his side, enduring his temper and caring for him selflessly, getting a cheap ring in return.

Jeffrey bought it casually to thank me for taking care of him for so long.

I cherished it, believing it symbolized Jeffrey finally opening up to me and accepting me.

Now, it seemed this ring was something insignificant to him.

Perhaps my love, the man I adored, was just as cheap as this ring.

I slowly stood up, sat in front of the computer, and typed out the divorce agreement word by word.

I didn't call him. There was no point in trying to wake someone who pretended to be asleep.

I stood up calmly and put the divorce agreement on the table.

I looked around at the house we had lived in for five years.

Every detail, from the furniture layout to the belongings, was my meticulous design.

Overwhelmed by these memories, I trembled, unable to maintain composure.

I covered my heart and screamed uncontrollably.

I tried to vent all the pain of the past few years.

I overturned the table, shattering the dinnerware into pieces.

I picked up a hammer and smashed the bathroom mirror.

With a resounding crash, the broken glass covered the pair of toothbrushes.

I threw the double chair out of the building and took the red paint from the stairwell and aimed it at the white wall.

In an instant, the room was filled with red marks.

I threw the paint can on the ground with an unprecedented madness and indulgence in my eyes.

Suddenly, Jeffrey called me, "Hello? Anna, there is a dance party tonight. Get ready. I will send you the address later."

I didn't say anything, and Jeffrey didn't care either. He just informed me in a businesslike manner.

He seemed indifferent to my willingness or the fragility of a woman recovering from a miscarriage.

He continued, "You have to come this time. Rumors abound, and only our joint presence can dispel them."

I sneered, "Dispelling rumors? Isn't what the netizens said true? We don't love each other. What does it matter whether I go to the party or not?"

Jeffrey paused before retorting sharply, "Anna, you said this yourself. Don't cry and beg me to take you to the party!"

"Let's get a divorce." I interrupted him.

The word "divorce" came out of my mouth lightly.

It was a word I never imagined speaking.

But now, I proposed it myself.

His response was immediate, "What did you say? What the hell are you fussing about? Isn't it just that you lost a child?"

He seemed angry.

I could even imagine him yelling into the phone, veins bulging.

I pinched my fingertips, and the glaring blood dripped onto the white floor.

I took a deep breath, and released all the pent-up emotions for years, "Jeffrey, do you think it's just because of that child that things have come to this? I'm telling you, I've decided. I want to divorce you. I don't want you anymore. Do you understand?"

For the first time, I lost my composure with Jeffrey.

It was an unprecedented pleasure.

I thought Jeffrey would scold me and mock me.

To my surprise, his response was silence.

After a long while, he snorted coldly, "Anna, who do you think you are? I can't wait for you to leave, and I don't care."

I continued, "Then sign the agreement soon."