I waited ten years to get married to Emily Stanton.

We had applied for a marriage license seven times, and seven times it had been called off.

In our circle, we were the golden couple. She had sold her own blood to help cover my hospital bills, and I had stood by her side as she built the Stanton family empire from nothing.

On our tenth anniversary, I brought up the idea of finally having a wedding ceremony and making things official again.

She just rubbed her temples and tossed her blazer aside.

"We'll talk about it later. We've been together this long—why are you still hung up on something like this?"

The words I wanted to say got stuck in my throat.

Does every great love eventually fade into something ordinary?

The sound of running water came from the bathroom. Then her phone buzzed with a notification.

Against my better judgment, I picked it up. The contact name on the screen was impossible to miss:

Honey.

[Baby, when are you coming home? Jamie says she misses Mommy.]

A storm of emotions crashed over me.

That's when I discovered Emily Stanton had another WhatsApp account.

The woman in those posts was nothing like the one I knew.

At the top was a wedding photo—the two of them beaming, radiant. Tucked among the roses she'd received yesterday was a brand-new diamond ring, hidden between the petals.

The water in the bathroom stopped.

I clenched my fists.

Then I forwarded the guy's WhatsApp info to my assistant.

[Look into him.]

When Emily came out, I had already put her phone back and composed myself.

But she still noticed something was off.

A nearly imperceptible sigh escaped her lips. She reached out and rubbed my earlobe.

"Daniel… why are you crying?"

Was I crying? I hadn't even noticed the redness at the corners of my eyes.

Yeah. After more than ten years, we knew each other better than anyone.

"Are you still hung up on the license and wedding? If it really means that much to you, we can at least go take the bridal photos."

She sat across from me, giving a little ground.

But all I saw in my mind were her wedding photos with someone else.

My heart twisted. I gripped the couch cushion.

"Forget it. Work starts back up after the holidays. The company's slammed. Neither of us has the time."

She raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise crossing her face.

"Get some rest."

Then she went to the bedroom. No extra concern. No further conversation.

And yeah, the company was busy. But I still carved out time to come home and cook a whole table of her favorite dishes.

The food had gone cold. She hadn't even looked at it.

Seven applications. Seven cancellations. Every time, a different excuse. Last-minute business trip. Bad mood. Terrible weather.

I let out a bitter laugh.

At last, I could no longer deceive myself with the comforting lie that ordinary and uneventful was the truest form of love.

My phone buzzed with a message from my assistant.

[His name is Ryan Zhou. Unit 202, Building X, Riverside Garden.]

The next morning, I went straight to Riverside Garden.

It was the second property Emily and I had bought together. In my name.

I still remembered paying for it in full that day. I had lifted her in my arms. Her voice was muffled against my chest.

"This place is yours. If I ever treat you badly, you can move here on your own."

And now she had moved her lover into that very house.

I stood by the entrance so long an elderly woman nearby asked, "Young man, who are you looking for?"

When I said Unit 202, her face lit up.

"Oh, that family! They're so in love. They invited the whole building to their wedding. The other day, Ryan had a stomachache, and his wife rushed right over from a meeting. She was worried sick."

The more she spoke, the more animated she became.

Just then, the door opened.

"Ryan Murphy, right? Let's talk."

I stepped inside and shut the door behind me. But there, in the foyer, more evidence of their love story greeted me. Travel photos of the two of them hung everywhere.

Ryan didn't look surprised at all. He led me to the living room like it was his own home. His eyes held nothing but open provocation.

"I was wondering when you'd finally find out about me. Honestly, I thought you'd show up sooner."

He slid a glass of water toward me, acting every bit the man of the house.

The rage surged through me. I threw the water in his face.

"I've been with Emily for ten years. Who the hell do you think you are?"

Right then, a little boy appeared in the doorway, wailing. He stumbled and ran back into the bedroom.

When he came back out, he was clutching two marriage licenses.

"My daddy is not the other man!"

My hands trembled as I grabbed them.

July 13th, five years ago. The day we lost our second child.

That day, our baby had suddenly started vomiting blood. We were out in the suburbs and couldn't find a cab. I called her over and over. Every call went straight to voicemail.

Our son, not even a month old, stopped breathing in my arms.

Turns out she had been busy that day. Busy marrying someone else.

Ryan held the boy on his hip and gave me a soft, smug smile.

"We're legally married, you know. License and everything. Had the wedding too. You don't have any of that, do you?"

His gloating face blurred in front of me. I couldn't stop myself. I slapped him.

The fingerprint lock beeped. The door opened.

Ryan touched his cheek, his voice dripping with feigned hurt.

"Emily..."

Without a word, Emily stepped right in front of Ryan, shielding him with her body.

When she looked at me, her eyes were ice.

"You hit him?"

She protected him like instinct. Like I was the enemy. Like we were at war.

My chest tightened so hard I could barely breathe. I pointed at the marriage licenses on the table.

"You said the license didn't matter. You said you didn't care about the formalities. Then why did you give him everything that was mine?"

"Every excuse you made for canceling—they were all lies, weren't they? It was always because of him."

Her expression didn't change. Her lips barely moved.

"We have a child. I needed to give him a legal father."

But we already had a child back then.

When our first business failed and I couldn't pay my medical bills, she sold her own blood. Her arm, once smooth and pampered, was still dotted with needle marks. She had lost our first child because her body was too depleted.

She held me and sobbed. Her tears soaked my shoulder.

"Daniel, I'm so sad. We wanted this baby so much."

Later, I went to a church and prayed for hours each week. Five years later, we finally had a second child.

That child stopped breathing in my arms because she was too busy marrying Ryan.

"Mommy, he's a bad guy! He said Daddy is the other man!"

The little boy tugged at Emily's shirt. Ryan stood to the side, head bowed, saying nothing.

Emily's frown deepened.

I laughed bitterly. "Am I wrong? You betrayed me for a massage therapist?"

"Daniel!"

Her voice cut like a whip. She pulled Ryan into her arms, soothing him.

"Emily, he's right," Ryan said, voice wet with tears. "I'm just a therapist. I'm not good enough for you..."

The little boy cried along with him. Emily gently wiped Ryan's tears away. Neither of us would back down.

Finally, she said, "Let it go. Today is done. And you will not come after them again."

I set my jaw. "The house is mine. Make them move out."

She started to argue, but I grabbed my bag and walked out before she could refuse.

The moment I was outside the gate, I couldn't hold it back anymore. The tears just came.

Ryan was wearing the wedding band I had wanted. The little boy had the locket around his neck—the one I had bought for our son.

She had given him everything that was meant to be mine.

…

I took a day off to recover. Then I went back to the office.

The second I walked in, Ryan slammed into me. Coffee splashed all over my shirt.

"What are you doing here?"

Leo Peterson, my subordinate, rushed over to smooth things over. "Mr. Kirkwood, the new guy didn't know. Please don't be too hard on him."

Then he lowered his voice. "That's the CEO's husband. She brought him in yesterday herself. Very publicly."

My chest ached.

Emily always said our relationship would complicate company management, so she never acknowledged we were married. She kept work and personal separate. I earned my manager position on my own merit.

But Ryan—a high school dropout—walked in and became a team lead on day one.

"Get HR in here. Fire him."

I had built this company with Emily. No way was I letting someone like him sneak in.

"Daniel, please don't do this to me," Ryan said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Just let me and my kid live."

HR stood there frozen, caught in the middle.

"Um, Mr. Kirkwood—"

"Fire him. I'll take full responsibility."

The words were barely out when Ryan lunged at me, grabbing my sleeve. "Can't you just leave me alone?"

He was saying all kinds of ambiguous things, twisting everything. I lost my temper and pulled away.

He fell backward. His head hit the corner of the desk.

Chaos exploded. People shouting. And suddenly Emily was there.

"Babe..." Ryan looked up at her. "Daniel hates me..."

She helped him up immediately. When she turned to me, her face was stone.

"Daniel. You are disgusting."

She said it cold and flat. "What right do you have to be in my company? Don't come back tomorrow."

Around us, employees whispered and stared. Every pair of eyes felt like a knife.

I stood there and realized how absurd it all was.

The woman in front of me wasn't the Emily I knew.

Emily had security throw me out.

My belongings were dumped at the company entrance like a pile of trash.

I was on my hands and knees, picking them up like some kind of beggar.

Leo ran over to help. His voice was full of pity.

"Mr. Kirkwood… everyone knows how much Ms. Stanton cares about her husband. That's why no one said anything. Someone as hard as her—her private Instagram is nothing but pictures of him and their kid."

"Private Instagram?"

The question slipped out before I could stop it.

Leo handed me his phone.

That was when I learned the truth. Emily had made Ryan public long ago. He was her husband—officially, openly.

The Instagram account she had shared with me was a dead sea. Just her "work profile."

I don't remember how I got home. I was in a fog.

At the villa, the staff was running around, moving my things out of the bedroom.

I frowned and stopped them. "What's going on? Why are you moving my stuff?"

They stammered, eyes darting sideways.

"I told them to."

I turned around. Emily was walking in with Ryan on her arm.

"Ryan got hurt. Your room faces south, best light in the house. It's perfect for him."

She wasn't looking at me. She was focused on straightening Ryan's collar, her fingers brushing gently over the small cut on his forehead.

"Didn't you tell them to move out? Fine. Ryan and Jamie live here now."

I stepped right in front of her, forcing her to look at me.

"Emily, this is our home. You promised you'd give me a home."

Her eyes flickered. She didn't say anything.

My heart felt like it was being pierced by a thousand needles.

My father was a gambler. He drove my mother to her grave. Emily was the one who saved me from that house.

She was just a teenager then. Rain pouring down. She took my hand and made me a promise.

"Daniel, you don't like that home. So I'll give you one."

"Mommy, me and Daddy have nowhere to go."

Jamie's voice pulled me back. He was tugging on Emily's shirt, already crying. Ryan started sniffling too.

The softness in Emily's eyes faded. It turned to ice.

"He's just staying here. Why can't you let it go? Don't forget. I was the one who moved your mother's grave."

My eyes went wide. I heard exactly what she was threatening.

"You're using that against me?"

My voice shook. I couldn't help asking.

Ryan sensed the tension. He grabbed Emily's sleeve, all false concern.

"Emily, don't fight with him because of me. This is your home. He's right not to want me here."

"Home?" Emily laughed. It was cold.

"He doesn't have a home."

My skull rang like a bell.

I had followed her all the way to Seacrest, a thousand miles from anywhere I'd ever known. And now she was telling me I was homeless.

She took Ryan's hand and brushed past me.

"Ryan, I ordered you some suits. All new season. Want to see them?"

She kept going. "The manager position opened up. Take it if you want it."

Jamie ran after them. A perfect little family.

And then there was me. The extra. The outsider.

My nails dug into my palms.

Right then, I finally understood. The girl I loved—she was gone.

My fingers hovered over Stanton Industries' confidential files.

Then I clicked Send.