Chapter 1

After Melvin Barnes went bankrupt, his childhood sweetheart bailed on him.

I couldn't stand watching him fall apart, so I stayed.

Through all those dark hopeless nights, I held his hand tight.

We fought our way up together and became everyone's favorite "perfect couple."

Later, he clawed his way up from the bottom and made it back to the top of the business world.

He told me, "Carol, home is wherever you are."

But now that "home" felt more like a prison we were both trapped in because his childhood sweetheart came back.

He made her his personal secretary, hovering over her like she was something fragile and priceless.

His tenderness toward her was something I never got, not even after all the years I spent suffering with him.

For her, Melvin started trying every trick in the book to force me into a divorce.

I heard his voice, cold, ruthless, saying, "If Carol keeps acting stubborn and refuses to sign the divorce papers, I might just get rid of her completely."

I refused to accept it. Like a gambler who'd already lost everything, I clung to this marriage that was barely alive.

Eventually, one day, I got tired.

While I was dying, I finally decided to let myself off.

*****

As I held onto my cancer diagnosis report, the last time Melvin and I fought flashed through my mind.

He had trashed the house and was holding onto me tightly, his eyes bloodshot and terrifying.

"Carol, the biggest mistake I ever made was marrying you!" he shouted. "Even if I hadn't married you, you would've still shamelessly clung to me.

"You're just dragging your feet on the divorce because you can't bear losing the title of being my wife and all that money, right?

"Why don't you just die?"

Holding back my tears, I stared him down.

I shot back, "Melvin, your first pot of gold? That was charity from me. Now you've made it big, and you want to kick me out? Keep dreaming.

"You want me dead? Well, if I really die, I'll make sure you go down with me."

*****

I never imagined his words would come true.

Exhausted, I dragged myself home, only to find the place trashed all over again.

This time, Melvin Barnes had destroyed everything more thoroughly than ever before.

It was like he wanted to erase every sign we'd ever loved each other.

I walked to the center of the living room, crunching across the broken glass scattered everywhere.

Each sharp crunch felt like an echo of my own heartbreak.

Finally, I stopped in front of our giant wedding photo.

The protective glass was shattered, cracks crisscrossing like a spiderweb.

I reached out, wanting to touch Melvin's gentle gaze in the picture.

Instead, a sharp pain stabbed my fingertip.

A tiny shard of glass was lodged deep in my finger, and a bead of blood welled up, dripping right onto Melvin's lips in the photo.

This photo was snapped at some random street-side photo booth, right after Melvin and I got our marriage license.

That was when we were flat broke.

We were staying in a basement that never saw sunlight all year round, and the air was thick with the stench of mold.

To help him land his first project, I pulled three all-nighters with him, tweaking proposals. At business dinners, I groveled, forcing myself to smile at the clients.

During those three toughest months, all we could afford was plain pasta. Even an egg was a luxury.

At the end of those months, we were crying as we ate pasta, our tears the only seasoning we had.

It was said that poverty was the cause of many arguments for couples.

But back then, just to make my dream of wearing a wedding dress come true, Melvin, with reddened eyes, went around begging his old friends, all to borrow a proper wedding gown for me.

That was how we ended up with this so-called wedding photo.

Later, when he finally made it, the very first thing he did was reserve the priciest hotel in the city, just to make up for the wedding we never really had.

He brought in the best photographer money could buy and arranged a lavish wedding photoshoot for me.

But out of all those glamorous pictures, it was this old snapshot I loved most.

I had it blown up to a huge 100-inch print and hung it on the most eye-catching white wall in the living room of our villa.

I made sure it was the backdrop of our home, so that anyone who stepped inside, including me, would see it right away.

Now, it was still the very first thing I saw.

However, it was cracked and broken apart.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was a message from the renovation and cleaning company. [Ms. Simmons, do you need us to send someone to the villa? We can arrange it anytime.]

I stared at the screen, feeling a bit dazed.

Back then, I would've maxed out Melvin's secondary card without a second thought, hired the priciest cleaning and renovation crews, and had them restore this place to its former glory.

Then I'd head straight to the mall and clean out the shelves of all the season's hottest bags and jewelry.

Melvin smashed up the house just to get under my skin, and I'd spend his money like crazy just to make him miserable in return.

This absurd game between us? We'd run through it more times than I could count.