Leon adjusted his glasses and began explaining some aspects of marriage law to me.

Greg hadn’t come home for three days and neither of us reached out to each other.

Meanwhile, Amicia’s messages arrived like clockwork, appearing on my phone every single day at the same time. Now, I could open each one with a smile on my face.

It was a stark contrast to my last birthday when I was filled with joy, cooking a feast at home, eagerly waiting for Greg to come back and surprise me.

As night fell and the food grew cold, however, he still hadn’t returned and I couldn’t reach him.

I started to feel anxious, fearing something might have happened to him. Then, unexpectedly, the surprise I had been waiting for finally came.

Amicia’s message hit me like a hard slap, leaving me dizzy. It was a sweet photo that, if not for the fact that the man in it was my husband, might have made me smile.

In the picture, Amicia was hugging Greg from behind and he was wearing a pastel pink apron, his head bent as he chopped something.

That day, Greg hadn’t come home, so I sat on the couch waiting for him, watching the night stretch into dawn, sunlight spilling over the food I had prepared the night before.

When Greg finally opened the door, he was startled to see me sitting there. He looked at me with a hint of reproach and asked,

“What are you doing here?”

At that moment, my eyes felt frozen and I struggled to turn my gaze toward Greg.

“Where were you last night? Why couldn’t I reach you?”

Greg looked down and I couldn’t see his expression.

He mumbled, “There was a problem with the lab data. I had to work late into the night. I’m exhausted…”

In that instant, all my pent-up emotions exploded. I rushed up to Greg and threw my phone at him, nearly screaming,

“In the lab? Greg, you spent the whole night with Amicia! Yesterday was my birthday!”

Greg glanced at the photo on my phone and a flicker of panic crossed his face. My fingers tightened around the fabric of his shirt.

My eyes stung from the tears and an overwhelming sense of crisis enveloped me. I had no idea where to find any sense of security.

Before long, Greg grew impatient. He forcefully pulled my hands away and tried to walk past me.

“Amicia wasn’t feeling well yesterday, so I went to take care of her. She’s just a little dependent on me—don’t let your imagination run wild.”

When I shakily turned around, all I saw was the closed door to the bedroom.

I remember feeling terrified of losing Greg at that time, so I was always the one who compromised.

After that incident, Amicia essentially declared war on me. Every day, the last thing I wanted was to receive more of her photos.

Whenever I confronted Greg with the photos, he would always give me vague excuses, his indifference making my desperate pleas seem insane.

I called my family to tell them I was getting a divorce. After a long silence, my parents asked me to come home to discuss it.

I packed a few personal belongings and, before leaving, turned back to take one last look at this place that no longer felt like home. I closed the door behind me and walked away.

Part 4

When I got home and saw my mother’s worried expression, I suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of injustice. The person I had loved so deeply should have cared for me just a little; if not, he wouldn’t have done so many things to hurt me.

I held back the tears stinging my eyes as I sat across from my mother, trying my best to keep my tone steady while recounting everything that had happened over the past few weeks.

I stepped out of the haze of that so-called love, feeling like a piece of wood going mad all on my own—strange and laughable.

Looking at the corners of my mother’s eyes filled with concern and my father’s furrowed brows from anger, I recalled my mother’s birthday.

I had told Greg a week in advance and usually, due to my family’s business in equipment, he had always been polite to my parents.

Whatever his motivations were, I had confidently assured my mother that Greg would definitely come to her birthday party.

But on that day, he didn’t show up.

I made countless calls, none of which connected. My parents’ faces darkened and a few nosy relatives began whispering to each other. I bit down hard on my lip, fighting against the humiliation and dialed Amicia’s number.

To my surprise, she picked up almost immediately.

“Wendy, what’s up?”

Hearing her affected tone made my stomach turn, but I pushed through the disgust and asked,

“Is Greg with you?”

Amicia let out a playful laugh and deliberately elongated her words, saying,

“Oh, Greg? He’s here in the lab with me. I’m having trouble with some data and he’s helping me out.”

I didn’t say another word before hanging up the phone. My blood boiled as I recklessly drove to Greg’s school, heading straight for the lab.

As soon as I reached the door, I saw Greg holding Amicia in his arms while adjusting the equipment. The moment Amicia looked up and spotted me, a triumphant smile spread across her face.

Suddenly, all sound faded away, replaced by a sharp ringing in my ears.

I strode up to Amicia and slapped her hard across the face, my voice rising to a fever pitch as I shouted,

“How much shameless can you be?!”

Before I could even register Amicia’s expression, a powerful shove sent me crashing to the ground, my elbow slamming painfully into the edge of a table.

The impact made my vision blur.

When I looked up, I saw Greg holding Amicia, her face streaked with tears, while he looked at me with disgust.

Coldly, he said to me, still sitting on the floor, “What’s your problem now? Get out of here before I call security to throw you out. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

The stares of the onlookers felt like daggers piercing my skin and tears flooded my eyes uncontrollably.

Just then, a pair of hands helped me up—it was a female assistant who had been in the lab for quite some time. Leaning on her for support, I stumbled along behind her.

By the time I realized what was happening, I found myself sitting on a bench outside the building

The assistant sat down next to me and quietly asked if I was hurt. I shook my head, but inside, my heart was filled with bitterness.

She looked at my face, then handed me a pack of tissues and softly said,

“Ms. Stark, what’s the point of all this?”

Those words felt like a sharp knife, piercing deep into my brain.

Why was I doing this? Did an already rotting relationship really deserve this level of self-degradation?

After that day, I slowly began to reclaim my career, piece by piece, working to rediscover the person I once was.

Part 5

I settled back at home, preparing the divorce documents while keeping track of the projects I was managing.

I was covering my bases—if Greg was willing to agree to an amicable divorce, great. But if he wasn’t, I was ready to file for divorce myself.

I also began to gradually withdraw my support from Greg’s lab. After all, most of the sponsorship and investments had come through me.