Chapter 2

I lifted my hand and stared at the wedding ring on my finger, a clover design with our initials etched into it.

Back when Andrew proposed, he had a college buddy custom-make this ring for me overseas.

He knew I loved clovers, so he had a hollowed-out clover carved right in the center, with both our initials stamped on top.

I remembered the day I put it on. Andrew had tears streaming down his face, not caring how he looked at all.

He said, "Vivian, as long as you're with me, I swear I'll never let you suffer or feel wronged."

With everyone watching, we held each other close and kissed, and it felt like happiness was sealed in that moment.

When did everything start to fall apart?

It was probably a few months back when Andrew started getting crazy busy, barely around anymore, always out early and back late.

I had just found out I was pregnant, my mood swings were wild, and I kept clinging to him, asking about everything.

One day, Andrew just snapped. Drunk, he shoved me to the floor, venting all his rage.

He shouted, "Vivian, will you ever quit? Don't you have your own life to live?

"You're really getting on my nerves."

I'd never been yelled at like that before. I just froze, completely shell-shocked, tears slipping down my cheeks before I even realized it.

It was only when Andrew started pacing around, all impatient and annoyed, that I caught sight of the mark on his neck, a hickey.

The next morning, Andrew sobered up and quickly realized what he'd done. He rushed to my bedside to apologize.

"I'm sorry, Vivian. The theater's been rehearsing a new play, and I've been under a ton of stress. I didn't mean to snap at you," he said.

"And what about the hickey?" I asked.

Andrew's expression shifted. He quickly reached for his neck, clearly bothered. He grabbed my hand and tried to explain.

"Last night, I went out drinking with some coworkers. We played Truth or Dare, and one of the guys did it as a joke. It was nothing serious," he said.

Maybe he was worried I wouldn't buy it, so Andrew took three days off work just to be with me.

For those three days, it felt like we were newly in love again, just like before we got married. It was so sweet that I almost forgot all the hurt.

But then, rumors started flying about Andrew and Sophie having an affair.

To protect Andrew's reputation, I went out there, my baby bump on full display, determined to defend him and set the record straight.

Turned out, I was the real fool who'd been kept in the dark.

When I saw Andrew holding another woman in his arms, that was the moment I lost all hope. I didn't want to keep chasing after him anymore.

So, in front of all the reporters, I told everyone we were getting a divorce.

That night, I was jolted awake by a noisy commotion. When I opened my eyes, Andrew was sitting right next to me, looking pale and exhausted.

He asked, "You're awake. Why did you have to go and tell the press about our divorce?

"Vivian, can you please stop with all this drama?"

Andrew massaged his brow in frustration, clearly worn out by it all.

I twisted the ring on my finger, looking at him in confusion and pushing back.

"I'm not causing drama. I genuinely want a divorce," I replied.

Andrew finally snapped. He started pacing around the hospital room, laughing angrily.

He said, "Is it just because I was looking out for Sophie?

"You have no idea; her foot just healed up. How could I just watch her get into trouble? Can't you see where I'm coming from?"

"So you were so busy protecting her because of her foot injury that you just ignored our baby and me?" I snapped.

I met his eyes, anger boiling inside me, my voice cold and sharp as I shot back.

Andrew froze for a moment, clearly not expecting that. He slumped back down next to me, avoiding my gaze as he mumbled an apology.

"I'm sorry, Vivian. I really didn't realize you'd get hurt this badly. I was out of my mind. Can you forgive me?" he said.

"No need," I said coldly.

I pushed him aside, yanked the wedding ring off my finger, and tossed it into the trash.

The small clink of the ring landing in the bin sounded deafening to Andrew. He stared at it, his chest heaving with emotion.

We locked eyes in silence. I turned away, refusing to look at the confusion and resentment in Andrew's eyes.

Just then, Andrew's phone rang. Sophie's weak voice came through the line.

"Andrew, are you still at the hospital? I'm kind of hungry," she said.

Andrew's expression softened. Without even glancing at me, he got up to leave, throwing out a cold parting line.

"I haven't agreed to the divorce, so just drop it," he said.