In the eighth year of our marriage, my husband gave me ninety-nine roses.

Just as I stepped off the operating table, I made a phone call and calmly requested a divorce from him.

On the other end of the phone, his girlfriend apologized in a sobbing voice. "Ms. Quinton, it's all my fault for acting on my own. Please don't get angry with Mr. Quinton."

Henry gently comforted her for a long time and only said to me, "As you wish."

Then, half a month later, I met him again.

"Cook a bowl of noodles for me!"

Henry returned home in the early morning, but he did not see any meals for breakfast on the dining table as usual. He frowned unconsciously, gave me orders and walked to the bathroom.

When he came out of the bathroom with steam, I still watched the TV casually in the living room.

He took out a branded bag from his suitcase and said, "Look, do you like it?"

The pink bag seemed to be the favorite style of young girls.

In the past, he would coax me and take me to do anything I wanted to do. Now, he only relied on boring gifts to get by.

I was too lazy to take another look, so I switched the TV channel and asked him, "When do you have time to deal with our divorce?"

Henry was busy, so busy that he needed his female secretary to choose a gift for his wedding anniversary.

It was always me who had to cooperate with him in terms of working hours.

"Stop it, Jessica doesn't know you hate roses. I won't do it next time."

The man poured himself a small glass of whiskey and sat on the single sofa opposite, smiling.

Jessica Flynn was Henry's childhood sweetheart. She had adored him since she was a child. As soon as she graduated from a prestigious university, she rushed to be his personal secretary.

They were so close that they even stayed in the same suite when they went on business trips.

Actually, I did not blame Jessica for persistently following my husband.

A fly did not bite seamless eggs. If he did not give the opportunity, no woman could get close to him.

I yawned exaggeratedly and tears seeping out of the corners of my eyes unconsciously.

Henry thought that the matter was over after not hearing my reply for a long time. He asked his seven-years-old son's recent exam rankings. I shook my head and answered, "I don't know."

I did not mean to piss him off, deliberately not telling him. I really did not know.

The Quinton Family placed great emphasis on higher education for its family members. The boy was raised in the main house since he was in a young age and he was given various courses after coming home from school.

It was so funny to say that I was the one gave birth to that boy, but my time to meet him was only a handful of times. This was the reason why I had cried and made a fuss, but the Quinton Family did not care at all.

In their view, being able to marry into the Quinton Family was because of my ancestors' merits. As for the rest, it was pure delusion.

Henry pinched his high nose bridge and asked me to focus more on the child. "If this goes on, Jessica will be more like his mother than you."

I understood the meaning of his words.

Yesterday was Friday. It was the only day I was allowed to pick up my son from school.

I arrived an hour early, waiting until it was dark and the school gate was closed.

A few moments later, Jessica called me and informed me that Camilla Quinton, asked her to pick up my son and go back to the main house for having dinner.

On the other end of the phone, I heard Henry's voice.

He was asking Jessica with a soft voice if she wanted a bowl of soup.

Thinking back on all those scenes, I said to Henry with a fake smile, "That's just what you want. I'll leave right away. Let this so-called Ms. Quinton do it."

I did not know which word stabbed him, but he remained quiet for several seconds and suddenly became furious.

"There is a limit to my patience. Renata, stop making trouble," the man said as he stood up and took two steps.

I said indifferently, "Ah, by the way, I forgot to tell you that I had a miscarriage."

A month ago.

On the night when he received a call from Jessica and hurried out to block the wine for her, I had unbearable abdominal pain and drove to the emergency department of the hospital by myself.

But I was told that I had been pregnant for more than two months and the baby had lost the fetal heart rate and had already been biochemically induced.

The most ridiculous thing was that when I knew that the baby was gone, I was relieved.

Getting off the operating table alone, I thought it was time to end it.

In the living room, Henry turned his back to me, held his wine glass tightly and his fingertips turned white.

He did not question why I did not contact him. He knew very well how many times I called him that night. Unfortunately, there was no answer.

"It's okay if it's gone. The fact proves that you can't be a good mother."

Henry walked to the study room and closed the door skillfully.

Eight years of marriage, I did not know how many quarrels and disputes had occurred. It had been countless.

I was always be the one who apologized and solved the problems.

However, this time, Henry never heard the humble knock on the door.

Half an hour later, he opened the door and searched through the huge house, but he could not see my figure again.

***

I was Henry Quinton's first love.

No one could have imagined that a rich young man with excellent character and academic performance and a cold and handsome appearance, would fall in love with a non-mainstream female gangster who smoked and went to the club house all day long, Renata Miller.

My first encounter with him was not good. In the stinky alley filled with smoke, a top student was asked for money by a young man from society.

I, happened to be passing by and someone whistled at me.

So, I rode my bike into the crowd, taught those hooligans a lesson and by chance, solved a life crisis for the introverted male student.

Since then, Henry had been clinging to me like a glue.

He waited for me to get out of school, followed me and could not be driven away.

He gave me roses, but I soaked it into the toilet with a cold face and then threw it back at his desk.

He personally made me a shockingly expensive lunch and I gave it to the beggar on the roadside.

My sisters made fun of me for having a rich and infatuated young boy.

Anyone could tell that he and I were not from the same world.

However, when I was beaten up by my alcoholic father and could not go to school, it was him who broke into my private house, picked up the dying me and rushed over to the hospital.

When the doctor helped me sew the stitches, he turned his back to me, his shoulders shook uncontrollably and the back of his hand kept rubbing against his face.

The doctor asked him helplessly and humorously, "It's not you who was injured, why are you crying?"

He said, "I don't know why, but I feel an excruciating pain in my chest."

He still stupidly asked the doctor, "Do I need to have an electrocardiogram check?"

In the ward, Henry was clumsily peeling an apple.

"I don't want to feel this bad anymore. Renata, please don't get hurt again. I beg you."

I ate the popsicle he bought and after saying yes vaguely, I glared at him fiercely. "Then do you want to be my boyfriend?"

That whole day, both of us blushed and could not say anything.

I told Henry a secret that no one knew.

Every time my dad got drunk and crazy, he would beat my mom and beat her to the point where she was half dead. But then, a broken rose would always appear in the house the next day as an apology.

So, if he wanted to break up with me one day, he did not have to say it. Just gave me one rose.

"Silly, we will always be together." The eighteen-year-old boy hugged me tightly and did not allow me to say anything foolish again.

In order to get rid of my father's pestering, Henry took me to study abroad together. For that reason, his father cut off all his financial resources in order to force us to break up.

At that time, we had to work two part-time jobs every day besides going to school.

Those days were so hard and busy, but he and I could not help but make fun of each other even in between brushing our teeth.

In the small apartment, we loved to quarrel and make noises and our eyes were full of each other. If we could live like this for the rest of our lives, how great it would be ....

"Ms. Miller? Are you feeling well?"

The doctor's concern brought my attention back.

Today was the third day since I moved out of the villa and my old problem of insomnia had worsened.

While taking the sleeping pills prescribed by the doctor and going to picked them up alone, I ran into Jessica.

"Ms. Quinton, how could you come to the hospital alone?"

Jessica blinked innocently and when she saw that I didn't say anything, she said with eyes full of heartache, "I heard from Henry that your child ... don't worry, you are still so young, you will definitely have another one."

"Don't worry, there won't be another one," I replied without hesitation.

As soon as my words fell, I saw Henry coming over with a dark face.

I did not know why he was angry. I only saw him tighten the medicinal spray in his hand. Jessica told me with a coquettish tone that she did not pay much attention when she went up the stairs and sprained her ankle a bit.

There was no need to come to the hospital for this minor injury. It was all Henry's fault for forcibly bringing her here and delaying work.

At this moment, it was my turn to get the medicine. Seeing the medicine bag in my hand, Henry could not help asking me, "Are you feeling unwell?"

Seeing that I ignored him and was about to leave, he actually snatched my medicine and opened it to take a look.

"Insomnia? When did you have this problem?"

"Renata, I'm talking to you. Tell me, how long are you going to make a fuss?"

The man thought that my running away from home was just a new trick to deliberately draw his attention.

That was why until now, he had never inquired about where I have been living or what I have done these past few days.

His unconsciously cold and indifferent tone attracted people around us to stop and look at us.

A hint of annoyance crossed the bottom of my eyes. I took the medicine from him and said in a low voice, "I'm not messing with you."

Perhaps my tone was too gentle and indifferent and Henry saw it as me bowing my head to show weakness.

He offered to take me home first and then take Jessica back to the company.

But I shook my head. "Your work is more important. I can go back on my own." What I mean by going back was going back to my own home.

My alcoholic father was hit and killed in a car accident and not only did he leave me a family compensation.

The house where I used to want to run away the most and always get beaten had now become my only safe haven.

Looking at my lonely back as I left, Henry pursed his lips and was about to take a step forward, but Jessica grabbed his arm.

The woman said with a pale face that she suddenly felt very uncomfortable. It should be a hypoglycemic attack.

He hesitated for a moment and did not choose the direction I left, but turned and walked towards the nearby vending machine.

On the day when the lawyer drafted the divorce agreement for me, I happened to receive a call from Henry.

He told me urgently and gloomily, "My son is sick, come to the main house before six o'clock."

Before I could ask what illness he had, the man had already hung up the phone.

I printed out the agreement with a relieved smile.

When I arrived at the main house of the Quinton Family, I found out that all of the family members were there.

They were having their usual family dinner and their son happened to be sitting between Henry and Jessica.

From the perspective of outsiders, they were the true family of three.

With slightly red eyes, I walked towards my son whom I had not seen for a long time, stroked his face and asked him softly where he was feeling unwell?

The little boy's facial features were almost a smaller version of Henry.

My son showed disgust and patted my hand away, staring at me with caution and seeking help from Jessica.

I felt a piercing pain in my heart.

Jessica affectionately held my son in her arms and said in an innocent tone, "Dante is not sick, Renata, are you taking the wrong amount of sleeping pills and remembering the wrong thing?"

Just when these words came out, the Quinton Family members all looked at me with disgust on their faces.

I knew that they were laughing at me as usual, especially Henry's sister, Hannah Quinton. She always thought that I was of low status and not worthy of her brother.

In the past, she was always making things difficult for me and I chose to accept it for the sake of her brother's face.

It was a pity that this time, I did not want to be a good person without bottom line again. I questioned Henry with a cold gaze, "You told me on the phone that Dante was sick and asked me to come over. I finally got here, but your girlfriend said he was fine. Who is true and who is false? Or is it you who are really sick?"

Jessica did not expect my attitude to be so tough and a hint of panic appeared in her eyes.

She moved her mouth and was about to explain something, but I did not give her any chance and lowered my eyes to warn her. "Jessica, it's none of my business if you like being a seductress for a married man. But don't use my son as a tool to compete for favor, otherwise don't blame me for being rude to you."

Jessica's face turned green with overly straightforward ridicule and her eyes immediately turned red with grievances.

With a snap, Henry threw away the spoon and fork, his face turned cold and his eyes lit up as he looked at me. "Renata, you know nothing but jealousy all day long. Dante has had a cold for several days, have you as a mom ever shown any concern?"

"Also, I said it was six o'clock, but you really made everyone wait for a long time. Since you have such no sense of time, get the hell out to the side hall and have dinner with the servants."

Henry always kept his word. In this family, no one dared to disobey him.

Jessica's eyes flashed with a hint of sly joy as she flattened her mouth and looked sympathetic, waiting to see the good play.

Hannah raised her eyebrows at me, her eyes full of naked contempt.

Under the gazes of everyone, I walked towards the housekeeper, Matilda Wyatt. I said, "Matilda, when you are free, come to my house and I will cook for you."

I did not want Matilda to misunderstand that eating with them was an embarrassing thing to do.

After saying that, I looked into Henry's eyes and said with a contemptuous smile, "You really disgust me."

Seeing that I was about to leave, the man could no longer hold his temper. He quickly stood up and grabbed my wrist, his gaze showed his anger.

"Where are you going? Did I give you permission to leave?"

I was really angry at his shamelessness. "It's none of your business! Let me go."

Taking advantage of the situation, Jessica gave a signal by winking at Hannah and Hannah immediately sneered at me. "Renata, you are still the same after so many years, uneducated at all. A wild cat is a wild cat and it will never understand manners."

Hearing this, Henry turned his head and scolded his sister. "You shut up!"

Taking advantage of the distraction, I finally broke free from the shackles.

The burning pain on my wrist ignited the anger I had buried for years. Scanning the whole room, my scary eyes finally stopped at Hannah who thought she was superior to others. "Do you want to know what a truly uneducated person looks like?"