Phil's POV

Our honeymoon took a nightmarish turn when we got caught in a violent riot abroad.

Just to make Glenn Robson's escape easier, my newlywed wife shoved me out of the car without hesitation. As such, I was dragged several meters across the ground, and then caught in the crossfire, leaving me gravely injured.

Just when I was drowning in pain and despair, Hazel Trivett appeared and saved me.

She stayed by my side and later proposed to me. After learning I had fully recovered, she was over the moon. For a while, I thought I had found happiness.

Until the day I overheard a conversation between her and my ex-wife.

"Phil still doesn’t know they took his kidney for Glenn. You have to keep it from him. I’ll find a way to get him to donate another one."

My ex hesitated. "An artificial kidney causes severe rejection. It’s torture worse than death. Aren’t you afraid he’ll hate you once he finds out about it?"

My wife—let out a bitter laugh. "As long as Glenn stays healthy and happy, I’ll do whatever it takes."

That was when I realized my so-called happy marriage had been a carefully woven lie from the start.

Both my ex-wife and my current wife had only ever cared about one person—Glenn.

Since love had never been a part of this marriage, there was no reason for me to keep pretending.

But if I meant so little to her… why did she start losing her mind once I finally left?

——

The day I got my medical report, I was eager to share the good news with Hazel.

But when I arrived at the VIP hospital room, what I saw made my blood run cold.

Both my ex-wife and my wife were huddled around Glenn’s bed, fussing over him.

And Hazel—usually so cold and aloof—was looking at him with an almost sickening tenderness, her eyes glistening with warmth.

"Don’t worry, Glenn. I’ve already arranged for the best medical team. Once I convince Phil, we’ll proceed with the surgery."

Glenn hesitated. "Will Phil agree? What happened last time already hurt him badly. If anything goes wrong again, I’m afraid… he might not be able to handle it."

"You’re too kind, Glenn," Hazel murmured, stroking his hair like he was something precious.

She smiled and softly and sweetly added, "He still thinks he lost his kidney because of the explosion. Still believes I was the one who saved him. Right now, he’s grateful to me."

"You don’t have to care about his feelings. If it weren’t for you, he never would’ve had the chance to experience my love in the first place. He should be thanking you," she then comforted.

Inside that room, everything was warm and filled with love; while outside, I stood frozen in place, tears streaming down my face.

Suddenly, a memory came rushing back—the day my ex-wife, Mandy Glover, abandoned me.

In a foreign country torn apart by war, bullets and fire were raining down around me. I was alone, helpless, and desperate.

Then, Hazel had appeared, walking against the panicked crowd, straight toward me. Amid the chaos, she had pulled me into a fierce embrace and affectionately comforted me, "Don’t be afraid. I’m here. No matter where you are, no matter what happens, as long as I’m alive, I’ll protect you."

Back then, I was naïve enough to believe I had found true love. I thought she was my salvation.

Turned out, she was the one who pushed me into hell.

She saved me, married me, and had my child—not because she loved me, but because of her devotion to Glenn.

Tears blurred my vision, washing away the last remnants of affection I had for her.

Wiping away my tears, I pulled out my phone and sent a message to my friend.

[Cancel the anniversary gift I ordered for her.]

Shortly, I received a call from him.

"Why, Phil? You love your wife. You spent so much time planning this surprise," he immediately asked right after I answered the call, shocked.

I let out a hollow laugh before answering, "She’s not my wife. She's a good pretender. She destroyed my life."

My friend fell silent, and after a while, a long sigh was his only response.

After I explained everything to him, the call ended, and I sat on the cold hospital corridor floor with an ashen face.

Then, I heard hurried footsteps.

Hazel ran toward me, carrying a box of fruit. She smiled, oblivious to everything I had just learned.

"Phil, were you waiting long? I got your favorite cake on the way. How was your checkup? Are you fully recovered?"

Phil's POV

Hazel looked at me with sincerity in her eyes.

But seeing the cake in her hands, a bitter smile crept into my lips.

It was the one in Glenn’s hospital room I had seen earlier.

So much for a specially bought gift—it was just his leftovers.

So much for a happy marriage—it was nothing but a lie.

While I was lost in thought, Hazel reached for my hand and rested her head gently on my shoulder.

“Phil, you don’t know how happy I am,” she murmured. “Once you’ve fully recovered, let’s have a baby. I promise I’ll be good to you and our child for the rest of my life.”

Hearing that, I could figure out if that was out of love or guilt and some kind of compensation for what she did and would still do to me.

As I no longer knew what to say, I just muttered something about being tired and subtly moved her away.

Later that day, as soon as we got home, she received a text message and rushed out in a hurry.

Seizing that chance, I went into her study.

The bookshelves, her computer—everything was filled with research on kidney failure treatments.

Didn't ever cross in my mind that this proud, untouchable woman would have humbled herself, begged, and pleaded just for a man’s survival.

And unfortunately, it wasn’t me.

After her table, I moved to the safe. But instead of holding company secrets, it held notebooks filled with details about Glenn.

[Glenn has a weak stomach. Meals should be light on oil and salt. No spice.]

[Glenn loves roses. The Rose Manor in the countryside will be finished by the end of the year. I hope he’ll like it.]

[Sweet food makes people happy. Since Glenn studied in France before, French pastries should suit his taste.]

Reading the notebook, I learned she had spent millions to buy him a luxury watch and poured her heart into building him a dream estate.

Page after page—everything was about him.

Not a single word about me.

The love I’d cherished so much wasn’t even a fraction of what she felt for him.

I sat in silence for a long time, and then, tears streaming down my face, I made a call.

“Hello, I need to arrange a staged death. A car accident. Three days from now. Make it as brutal as possible.”

After discussing the details, I sent them the hospital footage I’d recorded, which they'd released after my fake death.

Following that, I printed out a divorce agreement and waited for Hazel to come home.

However, she didn’t. Even by noon the next day, I still hadn’t seen her.

Just as I was about to call her, I saw her on TV.

[Miss Hazel Trivett of the Trivett Corporation walked the aisle of Washington National Cathedral on her knees to pray for the safety of a loved one.]

The camera then zoomed in on her grazed knees.

Despite people trying to stop her, she kept going—murmuring her prayer with every step, her devotion unwavering. She even bought a lucky charm, which was exclusively obtained from the church.

When a reporter interviewed her, she smiled through the pain and stated, "As long as the person I love is safe and happy, I’m willing to give up everything.”

The moment the broadcast aired, my phone exploded with messages.

[Damn, you’ve only been married a short time, and she’s already doing this for you? If you two have a kid, she’ll probably worship the ground you walk on.]

[I heard she invested tens of millions into the hospital to make sure you got the best treatment. She really loves you, man.]

[Phil, you lucky bastard. You might just be the happiest man alive.]

Staring at my screen, I only felt nothing but disgust.

Once, I might’ve thought I was the happiest man alive too.

But now?

I finally understood everything.

That love—her devotion, her sacrifice—it had never belonged to me.

I was just a pathetic tool, decorating the grand love story of Hazel and Glenn.

Deleting the messages, I grabbed the divorce papers and headed to the hospital.

Phil's POV

The moment Hazel saw me, she looked overwhelmed with emotion. Then, she rushed toward me, ignoring her bruised knees.

"Phil! Why are you here? I’m so sorry for making you worry—"

"Where’s the lucky charm?" I cut her off.

Her eyes flickered with hesitation. "I... I lost it by accident. But I’ve already sent people to look for it. If we can’t find it, I’ll just get you an even better one."

Lost? What a reason.

I’d seen it earlier, hanging around Glenn’s neck when I passed by his VIP hospital room.

Yet, I didn’t call her out on it. Instead, I pulled out the last page of the divorce agreement and handed it to her.

"Just forget it. I’ve had my eye on a house—you can just buy it for me as a gift."

"Of course!" she quickly agreed and signed without a second thought.

Frowning, I asked, "Aren’t you going to at least check? What if… what if it’s ridiculously expensive?"

"As long as you like it, I don’t care how much it costs," she answered. Her gaze was bright and sincere, without a trace of doubt or pretense.

I couldn't help but think—so this was what it looked like to truly love someone.

Too bad the one she loved wasn’t me.

I tucked the divorce papers into my bag, ready to head home. But Hazel, worried about my safety, insisted on escorting me.

Just as we reached the door, her assistant whispered something in her ear.

Her expression changed instantly. Without warning, she grabbed my arm and pulled me in the opposite direction.

The next thing I knew, we were inside a room, and she was shoving me down onto a chair.

"He has a negative blood type. You can draw his blood," she announced.

Before I could react, a sharp needle pierced my skin. They didn’t stop until they had drained 600 milliliters from my veins.

After that, I was so dizzy and weak that I could barely lift my head. I could just barely register the doctor reassuring her, "Don’t worry, Miss Trivett. Mr. Robson will be fine."

Only then did Hazel finally relax. But noticing my gaze, she awkwardly explained, "Phil, I did this to bring you good karma. Even if it weren’t Glenn, we couldn’t just stand by and do nothing, right?"

I was too drained to argue. Too numb to care.

I just nodded. "I get it. It’s fine. Stay here and take care of him. I want to go home and rest."

"Don’t be silly. You’re my husband—I should be with you," she insisted and gently blew on the tiny puncture wound on my arm as if that could make up for what she had just done.

Afterward, she helped me up and led me out.

Halfway home, we ran into Glenn.

"Phil," he said warmly, "thank you for donating blood for me. Let me take everyone out to dinner as a token of my gratitude."

I didn’t even get the chance to refuse. Before I could say a word, Hazel had already eagerly accepted the invitation.

At the restaurant, she ordered with ease, knowing exactly what to get.

Then, without thinking, she placed a glass of pineapple juice in front of me.

"Glenn doesn’t like this," she said casually. "You can drink it instead—it’s good for you."

I let out a quiet laugh.

She knew everything about Glenn’s preferences and had completely forgotten that I was allergic to pineapple.

Love—or the absence of it—always reveals itself in the smallest details.

While she was in the restroom, Glenn ‘accidentally’ let his lucky charm slip into view.

Then he smirked at me and mockingly asked, "Phil, they say getting fooled once is just bad luck. But getting fooled twice? What do you call that?"

"What I call it has nothing to do with you," I replied, uninterested in playing his game.

But he wasn’t done.

With a sudden, dramatic motion, he ripped the lucky charm from his neck and smashed it onto the floor.

Then, without hesitation, he slapped himself—hard—twice.

"Hazel," he choked out, tears streaming down his face as he threw himself into her arms. "Phil still won’t forgive me! He even accused me of trying to steal you away! He… he said he was going to scar my face."

Seeing his pitiful state and hearing his words, Hazel turned and shoved me to the ground without hesitation.