I wasn’t making a fuss, I truly had no intention of getting the marriage certificate anymore.

Deciding it was best to set things straight, I opened my mouth to speak, but a sweet, slightly petulant voice cut through. “Linus! This is all your fault! What you got me this morning doesn’t even fit!”

“How’s a girl supposed to make do with something like that? Linus, you’re truly clueless!”

Part 2

Not far away, Themis stood with her hands on her hips, stomping her foot in frustration, her cheeks puffed in annoyance.

The moment Linus saw her, he brushed past me, hurrying over to sweep her into his arms.

With a stern urgency, he scolded, “Running around barefoot at this time of the month? Are you trying to make yourself ill?”

A memory surfaced.

Earlier this month, I’d been curled up with intense cramps, asking Linus to pick up some pads and painkillers.

He had only scowled, replying, “You expect a grown man like me to buy that kind of stuff?”

“All women deal with it. Just stop fussing; it’s annoying.”

When I finally came back to the moment, Linus had already carried Themis off.

I looked away, pushing down the ache in my heart and reached for my phone to contact a headhunter who’d been after me for an overseas position.

The instant I booked the ticket, a notification popped up on my feed: Themis had tagged me in a post.

In a live photo, a large hand rested on her lower abdomen, her voice in the background exclaiming, “Linus, your hand is so warm.”

Her caption read: [My dear brother is so sweet about my period pain! He says he’ll take all the pain away. It’s amazing to be cherished in someone’s hands.]

Her intentions couldn’t have been clearer.

I gave the post a like, then went to my profile and quietly removed my wedding photo with Linus from my cover image.

Today, several prominent orchestras converged at the theater for a collaborative performance.

Numerous handover tasks still required my oversight. I managed the reception of the musicians, leading them to the lounge for a brief respite.

As the group followed, they quickly spotted Linus at the dining table, feeding Themis.

“Wow, I heard that Mr. Evans, the renowned artist, married his manager, Naia Morris, a long time ago. Their relationship must be wonderful!”

“Exactly! And a pianist’s hands are so invaluable, he’s even using them to serve his wife!”

Indeed, a pianist’s hands had been their most cherished asset. For a decade, I had taken care of everything for him, always worried he might get hurt. Yet then, he had used those very hands to cater to another woman.

The admiration around me finally drew the attention of the two of them. Themis, spotting me at the forefront, quickly adopted a pitiful look and lamented, “Naia, look at Linus! He’s making me eat pork liver and it’s making me fat!”

Without a single glance in my direction, Linus gently wiped the corners of Themis’s mouth. “Be good, finish it and later have some brown coffee.”

The murmurs surrounding me came to an abrupt halt. I exchanged awkward glances with the others, maintaining a polite smile as I escorted them to their seats.

Once everyone was settled, I pulled out my phone to continue my online visa application.

Before long, Linus had appeared behind me.

He peered at my screen, his expression hardening and his voice was filled with disbelief. “A visa? Who are you applying for a visa for?”

I hadn’t decided how to respond when he suddenly took hold of my hand, his tone overflowing with surprise.

“Naia, where’s your ring?!”

“Please don’t say you left it at home!”

I understood exactly why his reaction was so intense.

In our eight years of marriage, my wedding ring had never once departed from my finger.

Yet his ring had never been worn outside.

With everything that had happened earlier, a trace of anxiety flickered in Linus’s eyes.

He gripped my hand tightly, staring deep into my soul. “Answer me!”

Just as I prepared to speak the truth, Themis let out a sudden scream, her tears flowing freely. “Ouch! It hurts so much, Linus!”

The crowd turned at the sound, spotting Themis collapsed on the floor by the grand piano, a gash bleeding from her palm.

Linus swiftly pushed me aside and dashed to her side, cradling her in his arms. “How could you be so careless?”

Tears streamed down Themis’s face as she buried herself in Linus’s embrace, sending me a few fearful and pitiful looks.

“I don’t know. Naia was supposed to check everything last night. I don’t understand why there’s such a big piece of broken glass on the piano cover,” she said. “Linus, it really hurts so much.”

Linus’s eyes locked onto the blood-stained glass shard on the piano lid, his expression shifting to one of visible anger.

In an instant, he turned to me, his voice booming. “Naia, have your schemes really gone this far as to harm others?! Hurry over and apologize!”

Ignoring the disdainful stares directed at me, I stepped toward them. “It wasn’t me.”

He countered, “If it wasn’t you, then who was it? Everyone in the orchestra knows how possessive you are. You always personally inspect my piano, don’t you?”

After scolding me, Linus grabbed a small ceramic figurine from beside the piano and smashed it onto the floor. In a swift move, he seized my hand and pressed it down onto the scattered shards.

Instantly, my hands were coated in blood, countless fragments slicing into my skin.

“This is the lesson I’m imparting! No one else is allowed to assist her in cleaning up!” he thundered. “I expect you to ponder this thoroughly. When you’ve reflected on it, come and apologize!”

With that, Linus lifted Themis into his arms and departed without a backward glance.

My eyes burned with unshed tears, my vision swimming. Tears fell, one by one, onto the broken ceramic pieces.

The wounds stung, but the heartache was far more suffocating. The two little figures on the shattered figurine lay in tatters, revealing a talisman pouch tucked inside.

That figurine had been a treasured commission from a church, a symbol of Linus’s love when he proposed to me.

Back then, his gaze had been solely fixed on me and he had declared, “Naia, I vow before God that we’ll be together for life.”

Now, however, he was the one who had broken that vow.

With a mix of sadness and resolve, I collected the shattered remnants, along with my memories and any lingering attachments and tossed them into the trash.

As I passed through the main hall, I noticed Linus had just concluded his performance.

The applause resonated through the auditorium like a thunderstorm and he radiated happiness as he descended the stage, Themis’s hand in his, both taking a graceful bow.

This triumphant moment was one Linus had experienced countless times throughout his artistic journey.

Not long ago, I overheard the boss suggest, “Naia has devoted so much to supporting you as your manager. You two are partners and married. Why not invite her to share this moment on stage just once?”

Linus's voice dripped with disdain as he proclaimed, “I’ve reached this point relying solely on my own talent.”

He went on, “She can only cling to my fame and now that she’s getting older, she hardly holds any value!”

My gaze drifted back to the stage, where Themis stood beside him, radiating uncontainable joy.

The spotlight enveloped them, painting a picture of a perfectly matched duo.

In that fleeting moment, my phone was notified, announcing that my visa had been approved.

I was halfway through packing my bags at home when Linus stepped through the door.

He tossed a half-bottle of brown medicine my way. “This is for you.”

I picked it up, recognizing the iodine tincture I had seen in Themis's social media posts, where Linus had used it to treat her wounds.

But I was allergic to iodine tincture.

When Linus debuted at eighteen, his extraordinary talent took the world by storm, drawing attention like a beacon in the night.

A powerful figure in the industry, threatened by his rise, conspired to ruin his hands.

In those days, I had impulsively stepped in front of Linus to protect him from harm.

Though I emerged with only minor injuries, a colleague in the orchestra had inadvertently treated my wounds with iodine tincture.

The allergic reaction hit me like a tidal wave, sending me into shock and resulting in a frantic rush to the hospital, where I endured nearly a full day of surgery to be saved.

Colleagues whispered that while my condition had been critical, Linus had lingered outside the operating room, tears streaming down his face for as long as I remained in danger.

When he finally returned, however, Linus was in a storm of fury. He tossed every bottle of iodine tincture in the orchestra into the trash and decreed that it would never be used again.

I never imagined he would break that very rule himself.

Lowering my gaze, I discarded the iodine tincture into the trash can.

Linus noticed my action and let out a cold, dismissive snort. “Use it if you want; don’t if you don’t!”

Just then, a WhatsApp notification chimed and Linus glanced at his phone, his expression softening once more.

He gently reminded me, “Little one, be sure to keep your wound dry. You need to avoid certain foods for a while. Once you’re feeling better, I’ll take you out for something delicious.”

Perhaps taken aback by my unusual silence, Linus stole several glances my way.

At last, he spoke, his tone steady. “What transpired today was simply to set an example. You know all too well that the orchestra is rife with dirt.”

“The way I punished you was intended to send a warning to others.”

“Now that I’m caring for Themis, it’s also to shield you from idle gossip.”

I nodded, choosing silence over argument. “I understand.”

Linus appeared taken aback, a curious warmth spreading through him.

He seemed ready to say more, but I had already stepped into the bathroom to gather my personal items.

In the glaring light of the sink, a pair of pink lace underwear, clearly not mine, lay conspicuously, an unwelcome reminder of hidden secrets.

Just outside the door, Linus's phone chimed with a voice message, declaring, “Linus, I forgot to take back the little underwear I changed in your bathroom this morning.”

“Could you please bring it over for me? And I just adore the scent of your shower gel; could you send me a bottle, too?”

Suddenly, everything made sense; Linus had worn a shirt color that was far from his usual choice this morning.

The fragrant shower gel clinging to him was also from a brand he typically reserved for special occasions.

He truly listened to her every word.

As Linus absorbed the message, he hurriedly made his way toward me.

Upon entering the room, he was greeted by the sight of me and the pink underwear nestled beside me.