Henry didn't return all night, and the only message from him was: [I have something to attend to at the company tonight. You don't have to wait for me.]

The repetition of "company" in his excuses didn't escape my notice. He wasn't putting much effort into being convincing.

I decided not to respond to him, put my phone away, and got ready to head to the hospital to visit my grandmother.

I was surprised to hear that my grandmother wasn't well. Nobody had told me before. My parents told me the news in the evening when she suddenly fainted. They were worried that something awful might happen to her.

The doctor said that my grandmother, who was elderly and had heart disease, needed to be treated gently and avoid any kind of stimulation to keep her healthy.

I sat beside my grandmother, delicately peeling an apple for her.

She glanced at me with a smile and asked, "Why didn't Henry come?"

My hand paused mid-air, the knife nearly grazing my skin. Setting down the knife, I gently fed her a slice of the apple.

"Grandma, he's been really busy with work lately."

"Being busy is a good thing. Henry is such a dedicated young man, and he treated you well. That makes me feel reassured.

I forced a strained smile. Grandmother had a deep affection for Henry. Despite my parents' reservations, she had advocated for him, comparing him to my late grandfather, Albert Collins. She defied all opposition to ensure Henry and I married. Even the initial funding for Henry's startup had been quietly provided by my grandmother.

"Grandma, what if I were to consider divorcing Henry..."

"What's wrong? What happened? Why would you suddenly bring up divorce? Don't be rash, Wendy. Henry has always treated you so well."

"No, no, Grandma, I was just joking."

Rising from my seat, I carefully adjusted the quilt around Grandma, then swiftly made an excuse. "Grandma, I'll head back and make you something to eat."

Turning away abruptly, I nearly broke down in tears. How pathetic.

Once home, I busied myself with preparing dishes. Grandma had always loved the ratatouille I made.

Henry finally returned, wrapping me in an embrace with an apologetic expression, explaining that his absence was due to the overwhelming demands of his company.

Was he busy at work or was he busy with the women?

As he spoke, a familiar, inferior scent of sunflowers filled the air, sending a chill down my spine. It was the favorite scent of his first lover. Whenever I brought home a bouquet of sunflowers, he would say, "Wendy, don't be jealous. She's gone."

Indeed, she had passed away. She was a remarkable young woman. I heard she stayed behind during the earthquake evacuation to ensure all the children were safe, tragically losing her life under the rubble.

I never once considered myself in competition with that girl. My fondness for sunflowers was purely my own, stemming from a place of genuine affection.

But as I watched Henry struggle to hold back his tears, I swallowed my own words and abandoned sunflowers as my favorite flower. I chose tulips instead.

But now he let Melissa use sunflower-scented perfume. I pushed him away..

He was supposed to feel guilty for me, but also for the girl.

"I understand. Excuse me, I need to take food to Grandma."

Henry stood there stunned. In the past, whenever he hugged me, I would hold him with a smile, enjoying our intimacy.

He withdrew his hand in shock, finally catching the key words. "What's wrong with Caroline?"

I couldn't help but chuckle. When my grandmother passed out, he was wrapped in the arms of another woman. Yet, the first thing on Grandma's mind when she regained consciousness was Henry's absence.

I picked up the food and turned to leave, "Grandma is sick."

He seemed very anxious too. He put on his coat and wanted to follow me.

But before he could take a step outside, his phone rang.

He looked a bit nervous when he saw who was calling, but he answered anyway. I couldn't discern the conversation, but he was even more anxious than before.

After hanging up the phone, he walked away quickly. As if he'd just realized I was there, he touched his nose and said, "Sorry, Wendy, something's come up. You go ahead. I'll join you later."

Before I could utter a word, he had vanished into thin air.

Silently, I packed the food and made my way to see Grandma.

I was by Grandma's side all day at the hospital, keeping her company and offering her comfort. Despite her urging me to go home and get some rest, I stayed until evening. Henry didn't show up at all.

The house felt pretty empty when I walked in. After showering, I crawled into bed.

My body exhausted but my mind in turmoil.

When did Henry start cheating on me? Was it during my last business trip, or had it begun much earlier?

Another message interrupted my thoughts, displaying a picture of Henry massaging Melissa's feet, accompanied by a taunting message: [Has Henry ever done this for you? I heard your grandma is unwell, such a pity. But I'd rather have Henry accompany me shopping first. Hope you don't mind?]

More messages flooded in: [Wendy, stop pretending. I know you've seen it. I suggest you give up the Mrs. Johnson title as soon as you can, or you'll regret it.]

I didn't reply, turned off my phone, and forced myself to go to sleep.

Later, I heard Henry return. He disappeared into the bathroom for a shower before slipping into bed beside me, his back turned. The bedside lamp remained lit, as was my custom.

In the dim light, I noticed scratches on his back, likely inflicted by Melissa. I couldn't discern if they were accidental or deliberate.

Sitting up, I confronted him, "Henry, you didn't come to the hospital."

His back tensed and he turned to me with a strained smile, trying to change the subject. "Wendy, you're still awake?"

"You didn't come to the hospital."

"I'll be there tomorrow, Wendy," he assured.

I looked at Henry and asked, "Henry, do you love me?"

"Love? I'm working tirelessly to build a better future, all to be worthy of you."

Taking my hand in his, he continued, "Your parents were initially hesitant, but it was Grandma who paved the way for our union. I'll always be grateful for her kindness."

I remembered the day I brought Henry home. My parents had some concerns about his financial situation. They were also concerned that his upbringing might have left him with certain character flaws. They advised me to reconsider.

My father even said that with our family's conditions, I could find any better husband I wanted.

Grandma was the only one who stood by us. With a reassuring pat on Henry's hand, she expressed her faith in my judgment, likening Henry to my grandfather.

My grandfather was a devoted soldier who cherished my grandmother deeply. He perished on the battlefield, serving his country. And Grandma had never entertained the thought of remarrying.

With Grandma's unwavering support, I took the leap and married Henry. She even entrusted him with the sole token of love my grandfather had given her, hoping he would cherish and care for me in the same manner.

As I observed Henry, fervently defending himself, a sense of weariness washed over me.

The boy who once trembled with excitement at the prospect of marrying me seemed like a distant memory. What was the point of arguing now?

Ignoring Henry's attempts to justify himself, I looked into his eyes and silently resolved to end our marriage as soon as my grandmother recovered from her illness.

However, life had a way of thwarting our plans and often leading us down unexpected paths.

My grandma had a sudden heart attack. I was driving to the company when I received the news.

I quickly turned around and rushed to the hospital, feeling angry and anxious.

As I arrived, medical personnel were frantically working to save her life.

My father's face was filled with exhaustion, and my mother was crying outside the operating room.

Questions flooded my mind. Hadn't the doctor assured us that Grandma was improving and would be discharged the next day? How could she have suffered a sudden heart attack?

Before I could voice my concern, my mother caught sight of me and hugged me tightly. "Wendy, Henry cheated on you."

It was an affirmative sentence, not a question.

How did they know that Henry cheated on me? I had kept it a secret for so long.

A sense of foreboding washed over me.

"The weather was lovely today, so I took your grandma for a walk. And that's when we saw Henry kissing another woman outside the hospital.

"Initially, Grandma mistook the woman for you and laughed at your public display of affection. But when she realized it wasn't you, she was completely shocked.

"Grandma couldn't believe it and wanted to confront him, but the shock triggered another heart attack."

I had unwittingly caused my grandmother further distress. Clenching my fists, my voice trembled with emotion. "Where is Henry? Is he dead? Where is the man responsible for Grandma's suffering?"

"He had already driven away and didn't witness any of it."

A relentless pressure seemed to crush my chest. I hated Henry, but I hated myself even more.

I hated Henry for his brazen affair, but I hated myself even more for ever allowing myself to love him.

But why would Henry bother to come all the way to the hospital from his workplace?

I had a sudden realization, so I grabbed my phone quickly. A new message greeted me: [Wendy, I've already reminded you before. Now your dearest relative is on her deathbed. Does that make you feel any better?]

She did it on purpose.

Rage surged within me, my vision blurring with fury, and my entire body trembling uncontrollably.

My mother was taken aback by my sudden reaction.

"Wendy, you are scaring me."

"Family members of the patient, I'm afraid the patient's condition is not optimistic. You can go in and talk to her." My mind went blank and I rushed to my grandma's bedside.

Grandma looked much thinner and pretty weak, like her spirit had been dulled by illness.

With great effort, she opened her eyes and whispered, "Wendy, call Henry. Grandma needs answers."

I quickly nodded and immediately dialed Henry's number. I tried calling him again and again, but his phone was off.

Henry didn't want to answer my call.

Grandma was still mumbling, "Call Henry, call Henry..."

I bolted out of the hospital, hopped into my car, and zoomed towards Henry's workplace.

Upon arrival, I stormed into the President's office.

Henry was nowhere to be found. His personal assistant informed me that he was away on a business trip, but couldn't provide any details about his whereabouts.

Just as I processed this unsettling news, another message arrived: [Leaving for elopement.]

I walked out of the company quickly and went back to my grandmother, telling her that Henry was busy and wouldn't be back for a while, so I asked her to take a nap.

Grandma was still calling Henry. Eventually, fatigue overcame her, and she drifted into sleep.

The doctor gave us the bad news. Grandma had about a day left to live. If there were any last requests to be made, this was the time to do it.

As the hours ticked by, I persisted in calling Henry. I even asked his assistant to look for him, but we couldn't find him.

As Grandma's condition worsened, even consuming liquid food became impossible. Despite her fading consciousness, she persistently muttered, "Henry, Henry, I need to ask..."

Another day passed, and Melissa sent message after message. I couldn't reach Henry on the phone, so I resorted to pleading with Melissa, promising an immediate divorce upon Henry's return.

She replied: [Wait two more days, I'm not done having fun yet...]

Grandma hung on for another day, and we spent precious moments talking to her.

"Grandma, you've misunderstood. It was me that Henry kissed."

With cloudy eyes, Grandma reached out weakly. "Call Henry and ask him."

I stayed with my grandmother day and night because I was afraid she would pass away at any moment.

Today, Grandma didn't mention Henry. Instead, she gazed at me, tears streaming down her face. "Wendy, I'm sorry for you.

"Grandma understands," she whispered.

The tears that I had been holding back for so long burst out at this moment.

On the third day, Grandma passed away, still waiting for Henry's return.

Henry finally came back, and the first thing he said was, "I'm sorry, Wendy, my phone is broken."

I couldn't bear to hear his words. My expression remained numb as I thrust the divorce agreement towards him. "Sign it. We're getting divorced."