I run into a group of rogues on my way home for my daughter's birthday. I call my wife for help, but she blocks my number.

I'm dragged out of the car, stabbed a dozen times, and thrown into the bushes to die. My neck is broken, and my organs are spilling out of my body.

The rogues think I'm going to die—they even mention each other's names before me. Then, they drive off in my car while whistling happily.

I hold onto my head and organs as I crawl to the roadside, hoping against hope that someone will save me.

Before I'm taken to the hospital, I see my wife's social media update—she and her secretary have taken a sweet photo together while celebrating our daughter's birthday.

The first thing I do after being discharged is demand a divorce.

From the time I was rescued by a passerby to when I was discharged from the hospital, Beverly Mitchell never called me. For over a month, there was not even a single message from her.

The only thing I received was an accusatory text on the day of the incident.

"You thought it was a good idea to pull a runaway stunt just because I didn't answer your call? Suit yourself. Don't come back unless it's for good!"

After that, she blocked my number.

Day and night, I was in excruciating pain. I tortured myself daily by scrolling through Beverly's social media, sinking from heartbreak to complete despair.

What stared back at me were cozy pictures of her, her secretary Ashton Larsen, and our daughter Celeste Lane visiting amusement parks together every week.

They looked like a picture-perfect family of three. Meanwhile, as her husband of seven years, I hadn't even made it onto her social media.

I used to think Beverly simply didn't like posting photos of her private life. But apparently, that rule didn't apply to other men.

It wasn't that she disliked sharing her relationship. She just didn't want to share ours.

All the doubts I had in the past came rushing back, and the pain overwhelmed me.

The scars on my chest stretched like snakes, curling down to my abdomen. A glaring, ugly suture ran across my neck. Even now, swallowing felt like knives against my throat.

The physical agony was unbearable. Combined with the betrayal of the woman I loved, it was too much to endure. There were times I thought I wouldn't make it.

While I hovered between life and death in the ICU, Beverly was introducing Celeste to her new dad. The mere thought of it made me sink into the depths of despair, and I felt both ridiculous and pathetic.

When I was finally discharged, I wrapped a heavy scarf around my neck to hide the horrific scar despite the blistering summer heat.

Having been gone for a month, I stood once again at the door of my own home.

I pressed my finger to the lock, but it beeped with an error no matter how many times I tried. I thought maybe it was because my fingerprints had been damaged during my ordeal.

After multiple attempts, the alarm was triggered, and Beverly pulled into the driveway in a rush.

The moment she saw me huddled by the door, helpless, the worry on her face twisted into disdain. She unlocked the door with a sharp glare and smirked coldly.

"Well, look who's back. I didn't think you still remember where you live, Mateo."

Her words stabbed me in the chest, while the scar on my neck seemed to throb with pain. A month's worth of suffering and grievance surged within me.

I stood up and said with red-rimmed eyes, "It's been over a month. I'm surprised you noticed I wasn't home. Why didn't you pick up the phone when I called you? You've ignored me for an entire month. Did you even care if I lived or died?"

"Or maybe," I shouted, my voice shaking, "you were hoping I'd just disappear so you could be with your secretary! You've already flaunted him on social media. What's next? Are you going to announce I'm dead so you can be with another man?"

Beverly, who was changing her shoes, froze. Then, her expression darkened. "How many times do I have to tell you? Ashton is just my secretary! He's competent and trustworthy. Do you expect me to fire him because of your baseless suspicions?

"And if you hadn't gone missing, Celeste wouldn't have been crying her eyes out! I was too busy comforting her to answer your calls. And now you have the audacity to blame me?"

I stared at her, stunned that these words were coming out of her mouth.

I had fought my way back from death just to see her, only to be met with indifference and blame.

I was momentarily speechless.

Beverly sneered at my silence and continued, "If it weren't for Ashton, Celeste would've ended up in the hospital. Just what kind of father are you, Mateo?"

Irritated, I snapped, "Fine. She's my daughter alone, not yours. So after the divorce, don't even think about fighting for custody! Celeste will be with me, and you can stay out of our lives."

I felt nothing but immense disappointment toward the woman I had loved for seven years, who now felt like a complete stranger. Whatever we had, it was already over.

Beverly's look of contempt stiffened on her face.

Just then, Ashton walked in, holding Celeste's hand. He casually took her backpack and placed it on the entryway cabinet, his voice calm and soft.

"Mr. Lane's back? What's all this commotion? I'll take Celeste to her room so you two can talk."

With that, he changed his shoes and led Celeste away as if he owned the house.

A cold smirk tugged at my lips. "I've been gone for just over a month, and he's already taken my place in this house. What more do you have to say for yourself, Beverly?"

The memory of lying in a hospital bed and teetering between life and death, while she stayed home enjoying Ashton's company, churned my stomach.

Beverly frowned and lit a cigarette in annoyance. Then, she said, "Think whatever you want. I have nothing to explain. Those with filthy minds see filth everywhere."

At that moment, Ashton reappeared with a disc in hand. He approached me and said gently, "Mr. Lane, don't be angry. This is a recording of Celeste's birthday party. Ms. Mitchell asked me to record it for you in case you couldn't make it back in time."

Ashton paused before adding, "I didn't expect you to be gone so long. It was hard to explain to Celeste—"

"What do you mean I asked you?" Beverly cut him off angrily. "That was your idea! Why are you explaining anything to him? I wasn't the one gallivanting around for a month!"

I let out a derisive laugh and swatted the disc out of Ashton's hand. It clattered to the floor.

"If that's how you feel, then let's get divorced. Celeste will come with me," I said, then headed for my bedroom while ignoring the shock on Beverly's face.

Moments later, the door burst open as she stormed in and bellowed in fury, "I bet you can't wait to run off with your lover! You disappeared for a month and came back demanding a divorce.

"Have you lost your mind, Mateo? Do you think you can take my daughter and start a new life with another woman? Over my dead body!"

I stopped what I was doing and turned to face her indifferently. "Gallivanting around for a month, you said? Beverly, do you have any idea what I've been through? I was—"

"What?" she cut me off impatiently and mocked, "Living it up? Partying? Cheating on me? Don't bother lying. You gave the car I bought you to another woman, didn't you? Do you take me as a fool?

"Or will you tell me it was stolen along with the keys and the credit card? Well, guess what? All the transaction notifications came straight to me!"

Her accusations made me swallow my words. Everything I wanted to say suddenly felt pointless.

There was no love in her eyes as she glared at me, let alone any trace of concern or care. Although I had known for a long time, I had been lying to myself and pretending not to see it.

I chuckled bitterly. Thinking of the past seven years of love and companionship, I laughed until my eyes welled with tears.

When I was in the hospital with little chance of survival, I didn't shed a single tear. Even after multiple surgeries and the pain that followed, I never felt like crying.

I had endured it all by holding on to the hope of seeing my family again. But now, I didn't know why I had bothered.

Beverly glanced at me and looked away as if the sight of me repulsed her.

Ashton stepped forward and tried to place a comforting hand on my shoulder. However, I angrily smacked it away.

Beverly spun on her heels and scowled at me as though I had committed an unforgivable crime.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Ashton has been taking care of Celeste while you were out doing God knows what for over a month! What's with you now? Does either of us owe you something? If you came back just to cause trouble, then don't bother coming back at all!"

Her words were cruel, but my emotions had already been drained.

I nodded numbly and replied, "Once you sign the divorce papers, I'll disappear and stop interfering with your lives. You won't even need to come up with excuses to spend time with him anymore."

Beverly's fury erupted. She grabbed a glass from the table and hurled it to the floor, roaring, "How many times do I have to repeat myself? How long are you going to keep spewing this nonsense?

"You're the one who disappeared for a month! I didn't even say anything about it, yet you're asking for a divorce right when Celeste is starting school. Do you even care about this family, Mateo? What are we to you? When will you stop this madness?

"I'm already overwhelmed with managing the company and taking care of Celeste. Why do you have to come back and make things harder for me?"

I watched expressionlessly and felt nothing but a hollow amusement.

Meanwhile, Ashton feigned helplessness and casually placed an arm around Beverly's shoulder. He said, "Ms. Mitchell, don't be upset. Even though the footage shows it was a woman, Mr. Lane deserves a chance to explain himself."

Then, he turned to me and added with mock patience, "Mr. Lane, how could you give your credit card to a woman you barely know? Those transaction alerts all went straight to Ms. Mitchell. It put me in such an awkward position…"

I despised Ashton. He always pretended to defend me while subtly painting me as the bad guy.

The next second, my fist collided with his face. Ashton let out a pained cry and stumbled back.

In the scuffle, my scarf shifted slightly, exposing a hint of the stitches on my neck.

Beverly's eyes were immediately filled with rage. My heart sank, and I quickly adjusted the scarf to cover the glaring wound.

Beverly stormed toward me and grabbed my wrist in a crushing grip, yelling, "What's on your neck, Mateo? I can't believe you'd stoop this low!

"Sneaking around with some tramp and then coming home with evidence of it. You're disgusting! You even wanted to snatch Celeste from me. Have you no shame?"

Then, she shoved my wrist away with such force that my arm slammed into my face, and blood instantly gushed from my nose.

Ashton rushed out and returned with a tissue, holding it out to me.

"Get lost!" I snarled as I glared at him through the pain on my face. "Drop your stupid act!"

Ashton had investigated the license plate of the car involved in my accident. He must've known it belonged to the perpetrator, yet he chose to hide the truth and smear me instead.

Wiping the blood off my face in frustration, I felt my anger burn hotter.

The commotion must've woken Celeste, who appeared in the hallway.

"Mom, Dad, what's going on?"

When she saw Ashton pretentiously bowing his head and wiping his tears, Celeste hurried over to console him. "Don't cry, Mr. Larsen… Dad's mean. He's bullying you. He's the worst!"

My heart broke at her words. I tried to explain myself, but Beverly's sharp voice cut me off.

"Mateo, look at you! Acting like a lunatic in front of Celeste. Do you want the whole world to know my husband's a cheating, lying scumbag?"

Celeste burst into tears, terrified. I hastily reached out to comfort her, but she turned away and ran straight into Ashton's arms, clinging to him like I was some kind of monster.

"Mr. Lane, I know you're upset, but Celeste is just a child. She doesn't understand what's happening. You can't take your anger out on her."

I couldn't take it anymore and bellowed, "Shut up! She couldn't even bear to be apart from me a month ago. If someone hadn't filled her head with lies, she wouldn't be acting this way now!"