I never felt like the eldest son of the Gardner family. If anything, I was more like the housekeeper’s kid.

It wasn’t until my parents arranged a business marriage for me that I learned the truth: the cold, elegant heiress who had always been by Connor’s side had been in a terrible car accident. They said her leg would never fully recover—she’d walk with a permanent limp.

For a woman, that kind of injury was devastating. It wasn’t just the physical pain; it meant losing her poise, her grace—and the freedom to wear beautiful skirts again.

Connor had cried and screamed that he’d never marry a cripple.

So the duty fell to me.

I could have refused.

But when I thought of that aloof yet stunning face—one I hadn’t seen in over a year—I somehow found myself agreeing.

I was twenty then, about to start my sophomore year of college. My parents arranged a leave of absence for me, and at an age where most people were still figuring out life, I got married. To be precise, I was married into the Barnes family.

The first time I went to see her, she completely lost it.

She hurled a vase that shattered at my feet and screamed for Connor to come.

But Connor had already flown abroad, using the family’s black card to start a new life as an international student.

The Gardner family’s business relied heavily on the Barnes family. Since Connor refused to marry a woman with a disability, they needed someone to maintain the alliance. And so, they chose me.

For the first time, my mother—Alia Gardner—offered me a shred of kindness. She cried, saying how difficult things were at home, how pitiful Connor was, how my father’s hair had started turning white from all the stress.

I felt nothing.

I said, "Why tell me all this? I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for Hallie."

Back when I was a freshman, she was a senior—already a legendary beauty and academic prodigy. Her name dominated the confession walls, and countless heirs of powerful families tried to win her favor. But at the time, she was always with Connor.

Because of her, he became the envy of the entire school. He bragged about his special status in her heart, basked in it like a crown he alone could wear.

I admired beauty, yes—but what truly captivated me was her intellect.

Her obsession with mathematics, her relentless pursuit of academic excellence—she’d published multiple SCI papers. I’d read every one of them. Some even helped me resolve problems I’d been stuck on for months.

It wasn’t hard for admiration to turn into love.

On our wedding day, Hallie never smiled once. I was so nervous I kept wiping the sweat off my hands, my palms slick no matter how many times I dried them.

When I took her hand, I nearly tripped.

The guests laughed. I looked like someone completely out of place, a joke. I heard them mention Connor, and Hallie’s face darkened further.

I figured... she must still be in love with him.

Why else would she look at me with such resentment?

At that moment, I regretted it—both the marriage and the silent crush I had carried all this time.

On our wedding night, she was the one who took control.

She straddled me without a word and forbade me from moving or doing anything she didn’t like.

But her leg wasn’t strong, and she struggled. I wanted to flip her over, to ease the pressure, but the look in her bloodshot eyes stopped me.

She was hurting—and used this as a way to let it out.

Soon our breathing grew heavy. Her face flushed with color, and despite everything, I too felt... pleasure.

There wasn’t much internal conflict in the Barnes household. Compared to life with the Gardner family, I was surprisingly more at ease here.

I still loved reading. I continued exploring academic problems, even though I was no longer enrolled.

And Hallie... from not coming home for days at a time, she eventually began returning every evening without fail.

Even when she was swamped at work, she’d still send a message to let me know where she was.

I started learning massage therapy from a traditional medicine practitioner. I wondered... maybe, just maybe, with consistent care, her leg might get better.

With the idea in mind, I began right away—nervously, the first time, when I hesitantly told Hallie about my plan to help her through massage.

At first, she resisted, but as I gradually became more skilled, she began to accept it. Half a year passed, and I became so familiar with human acupressure points that I could recite them backward in my sleep.

What started as reluctant tolerance turned into quiet dependence. She eventually waited for me every day to give her a thirty-minute massage. I even felt my hands growing stronger.

Life was uneventful otherwise.

One day, while delivering a forgotten document to Hallie’s office at Barnes Corporation, I caught the eye of a short drama editor. She asked if I’d be interested in playing a role—the third male lead, a top student—saying I gave off the perfect scholarly vibe.

Without thinking too much, I said yes. Surprisingly, Hallie didn’t object.

What I didn’t expect was for that little web series to become a breakout hit. Even my character—the humble third lead—gained a followers.

It was all new to me. I never imagined stepping into the entertainment world, a place so far from my reality.

Barnes Corporation owned many businesses; BY Entertainment was just a small branch. Hallie told me as long as I didn’t use the Barnes name for personal gain, I was free to do whatever I wanted.

So gradually, I signed with a manager—Tessa Whites—hired a personal assistant, and landed supporting roles in several major IP dramas, playing the fourth, fifth, sometimes even sixth male lead.

I became a bottom-tier celebrity—a so-called 18th-line actor. Sometimes I’d scroll through Instagram and laugh at the funny things fans said.

One night, I lay on the bed, massaging Hallie’s leg with one hand while reading out fan comments with the other.

Absentmindedly, my hand slid upward. She let out a soft gasp.

Startled, I dropped my phone, thinking I had hurt her. But when I looked down and saw her flushed cheeks, and I froze.

The kiss that followed felt natural.

One thing led to another.

We grew closer—more in sync, more intimate. And we both found happiness in it.

From then on, our relationship progressed rapidly.

She began bringing me little gifts—LEGO sets I liked, new clothes, watches. Sometimes she’d drag me to the movies or suggest taking a walk by the lake.

We started living like an ordinary couple.

And Hallie’s leg? My daily massage worked miracles. Even her doctor called it astonishing.

Now, as long as she didn’t walk too fast, no one could tell she’d ever been injured.

In our third year of marriage, Connor returned.

On the day he came back, Hallie, for once, didn’t cling to me.

Even my parents, who had barely contacted me since the wedding, called and asked us to return to Gardner's house.

Connor had been gone for three years. Not once had he come back.

Even during our rare New Year gatherings, Dad and Mom would awkwardly mention how “busy” he was with school.

Hallie’s expression turned frosty. She said nothing. I had no idea what she was thinking.

Truthfully, since marrying into the Barnes family, I had barely returned home myself.

Still, the Gardner family's favoritism never waned—they continued treating Connor as the golden child.

When Hallie and I arrived at the Gardner estate, we saw a familiar figure rush in like the wind, throwing himself into Hallie’s arms.

I stood beside them, watching.

And she... didn’t push him away.

Nestled into her shoulder, Connor looked more mature than before, but he still called her “sister” over and over again, crying as tears soaked the hem of her white dress.

Watching that scene felt like a needle driving into my chest.

At that moment, I bitterly regretted agreeing to come back.

Seeing me, Connor straightened up. “Sorry, Brother. I was just so happy. Hallie—oh, wait, should I call you sister-in-law now?”

Hallie’s temple twitched. With a cold expression, she took my hand and led me to our seats.

Connor stared at us in shock.

Dinner was uncomfortable.

Not once did Dad or Mom ask how I’d been.

Instead, they kept pushing for Connor and Hallie to talk—repeating how “Connor’s always thinking about Hallie.”

At that moment, a ridiculous thought flashed through my mind—were my parents trying to pimp Connor out?

From that day on, Connor became like a buzzing fly, constantly hovering around me and Hallie.

And Hallie? It took her less than a month to go from rejecting him to accepting him.

When Connor said he wanted to join the entertainment industry, Hallie assigned BY Entertainment’s top agent to manage him personally.

He strutted around the Barnes Corporation building like he owned the place. Everyone assumed he was the Barnes family’s son-in-law. After all, I kept a low profile at BY Entertainment, hiding my identity. No one knew Hallie and I were married.

Connor was the complete opposite—calling Hallie in a loud, flirty tone, showing up at her office with takeout like a doting boyfriend.

The first and only time I dropped by her office, she coldly told me not to come again.

From then on, people assumed I was just some minor-league actor trying to cozy up to the CEO—an 18th-tier nobody who relied on looks and skin to gain roles.

Connor was charming and handsome, and with Hallie’s quiet backing, he rose to fame almost instantly. All the top resources started funneling toward him.

One day, my manager, Tessa, casually asked, “Do you know this Connor guy? His surname is the same as yours, kinda weird.”

I just smiled. “Just a coincidence. I don’t know him.”

Seemingly relieved, Tessa launched into a rant, gossiping about how full of himself Connor was—always throwing his weight around, snatching endorsements by flashing his ‘CEO connection.’

It wasn’t until three of my brand deals were taken by him that I finally realized: he was deliberately targeting me.

And Hallie? Since I entered this industry, she had never given me any special treatment. Even when we crossed paths in the building, she’d pretend I didn’t exist.

Back then, I still hadn’t thought of divorce. Because, honestly—I really did like Hallie.

Until one day, something happened. Something that, to her, was probably insignificant.

But to me, it was the final straw.

We were filming a trending outdoor survival variety show. Both Connor and I had been invited. Things on set were fairly cordial.

Connor played the cheerful, extroverted college guy, while I stuck to my role and impressed in the games and challenges.

That day, Hallie actually showed up to visit the set—something she rarely did.

The directors swarmed around her, showering her with pleasantries.

That’s when it happened.

The bamboo bridge by the lake, old and poorly maintained, suddenly gave way as both Connor and I stepped onto it.

We fell into the lake together.

Chaos erupted. Staff scrambled to jump in after us.

But no one expected that Hallie, the CEO of Barnes Corporation herself, would be the first to dive into the water.

Ever since her injury, swimming was the only sport she could still enjoy. She was incredibly skilled.

I couldn’t swim. When I saw her jump in, I honestly thought she was coming for me—after all, I was her husband.

But then I saw her grab Connor and swim toward shore.

And just like that, something inside me shattered.

At that moment, I understood—three years of marriage, and she had never loved me.

Hallie didn’t even glance my way, didn’t acknowledge I was drowning too. She barked orders at the bodyguards to carry Connor to the car.

Surrounded by people, she rushed him into her Maybach, her face was filled with panic and tenderness.

As I sank into the cold lake water, the last thing I saw was the tail end of her car speeding away.

By the time the crew fished me out, I was already unconscious.

It was all such a cruel coincidence.

Everyone assumed someone would save me. But once Hallie jumped in and diverted attention, the others just... forgot about me.

It wasn’t until the assistant director shouted for help that people even remembered I was still in the lake.

They rushed me to the hospital, and the production was halted.

When I finally regained consciousness, the only person by my side was my manager, Tessa.

Her eyes were red, clearly shaken.

I moved a little—nothing seemed seriously wrong.

“I’m alive, Tessa,” I joked weakly.

She smacked her lips. “Ugh, don’t say that! You scared me half to death, Clayton! Honestly, what kind of bad luck is this? That damn CEO made such a dramatic scene jumping in for that goody two shoes boy, and the whole crew forgot about you! Aren’t you pissed?”

"I'm not upset."

Strangely, I felt calm. For so long, I had naïvely believed that being married meant Hallie and I were one, that we shared everything. But reality hit me with a cruel slap in the face.

I realized then—whatever bond Hallie and I once had, it was over.

That afternoon, I was discharged from the hospital. The first thing I saw was Hallie helping Connor walk, and my parents following behind them.

They looked like a picture-perfect family. Connor leaned on Hallie without a care in the world, completely ignoring the fact that her leg wasn’t fully healed. My parents gently draped a coat over his shoulders with so much warmth, it was as if he were their biological son.

It was like I didn’t exist at all.

I stared at their backs for a long moment, then quietly pulled out my phone. I found the contact of a lawyer Tessa had recommended and asked him to draft a divorce agreement.