Chapter 1

A-list actress Stella Reed's alternate account was leaked. Hundreds of her private love letters instantly swept across the trending charts.

She wrote: [The man I love has become another woman's husband.]

Netizens were moved to tears. [So devoted.] [This tragic ending has me in tears.]

I lay in bed scrolling through the feed and left a blunt comment: [How can someone make falling for another woman's husband sound so blameless?]

I only realized afterward that I had forgotten to switch accounts.

A minute later, my husband Edward Franklin called me.

He said, "Isabelle Lane, Stella has done nothing wrong. Your comment will only hurt her."

I fell silent for a moment, then let out a cold laugh.

It turned out in this love triangle, I had always been the outsider.

*****

My phone was still pressed to my ear.

That was when it hit me that the guy Stella had been pining for in her secret account was none other than Edward, my husband of nearly three years.

I opened my mouth, wanting to explain that I'd left a random comment. But what came out was, "How did you even see that?"

There was a few seconds of silence on his end.

And in those few seconds, I suddenly understood everything.

There were tens of thousands of comments on that trending post, and Edward, still overseas on business, managed to spot my account right away.

It was not because I was important, but because he was totally obsessed with Stella's posts. He was combing through every single comment, one by one.

"Isabelle, delete your comment so nobody tries to stir up drama," Edward said, his tone a bit softer than before. "I'll take care of Stella. Leave it to me."

I bit my lip. "Sorry. I didn't know those love letters were meant for you," I said calmly. "I'll delete the comment."

He paused, like he wanted to say something more, but in the end, he said, "Yeah."

The call ended.

I pulled my phone away from my ear and stared at the screen for a few seconds.

Edward had always treated me with gentle respect. But this was the first time he'd ever confronted me like I was the one at fault.

Fifteen minutes later, I went to the bathroom to wash my face.

I looked in the mirror. My face seemed fine, except my eyes were a little red. I leaned closer, telling myself it was probably some face mask essence that got in my eyes.

After washing my face and stepping out, I reopened that trending post. The whole feed was filled with letters to Mr. F, all about Stella's years-long crush on a man. I found my comment, tapped in, and deleted it without a second thought.

As I exited the page, the top trending topic had already changed: [Who is Mr. F?]

I swiped past it and closed Twitter.

My phone stayed silent, not another buzz.

I switched off the lights and slipped back into bed.

Lying there in the dark, I was suddenly struck by a harsh realization.

The three-year marriage contract between Edward and me was down to its last two months.

Three years ago, the Franklin family was hit by a crisis. Their stock prices plummeted, and partners started pulling their investments.

At that time, as the heiress of the Lane family, I was the one who proposed the marriage alliance. Some said I was taking advantage when they were down, others claimed the Lane family was buying low.

But nobody knew the truth that I'd been secretly in love with Edward for seven years, ever since college.

To keep Edward from feeling pressured, I drafted a contract myself. The marriage would be for three years, no more. For those three years, we'd put on a show for our families and attend public events together.

After that, if either of us wanted a divorce, the other had to agree, no questions asked.

On the surface, this marriage didn't give me anything. I didn't ask for anything but three years by his side.

Later, I heard that he'd been in love with someone else back then, but his parents broke them up and pushed him to marry me as a quick fix for the family crisis.

Over these three years, Edward had always treated me well. He was thoughtful, gentle, and played the perfect husband.

He'd bring me late-night snacks after work events, bring back gifts from business trips, never half-assed any holiday or anniversary, and would stay by my side whenever I was sick. Even in bed, he was always attentive.

I thought he was slowly falling for me.

But now I realized that he was simply fulfilling his end of the contract.

Feelings? Those were never part of the contract.

I rolled over, burying my face in the pillow. Before long, tears soaked the fabric.

That night, I made a decision. I wasn't going to wait for the contract to run out. I'd call it quits ahead of time.