Chapter 1
On my birthday, the college girl my husband, Charles Evans, was involved with sent me a photo.
In the photo, Yulia Lane was topless, lying in Charles's arms, her cheeks still flushed.
Yulia sent: [She loves me. Why can't you just let go?]
I stared at the photo, expressionless, and sent it straight to Charles.
I texted: [So this is what you really want?
[Fine. I'll let you go.]
Charles forgot that this marriage was something he begged for with all his heart.
Since he loved freedom so much, I would give it back to him.
*****
It was midnight, and Charles still hadn't come home.
I picked up my phone and called him.
The first time, no one answered.
And I kept calling.
It wasn't until the seventh try that the call finally went through.
Before I could even say a word, Charles's impatient voice came through.
He snapped, "Will you ever stop, Emma?
"You're such a pain."
The background was filled with pounding club music, almost deafening.
But even that couldn't compare to the harshness in his voice.
I took a deep breath, my grip on the phone tightening.
"It's already midnight. Don't forget how you promised me back then," I said.
My tone stayed flat, but inside, I was anything but calm.
Charles and I were already married on paper; all that was left was the wedding.
But right when it mattered most, he fell for someone else and wouldn't come back to our place, no matter what I tried.
I knew there was nothing I could do to stop him.
So I made one last request.
I said, "Give me a month. For this month, let's live as we used to.
"If, after a month, you still couldn't remember our past, or still had no feelings for me, then I could initiate the divorce."
Yes, Charles lost his memory.
After we got married, he was in a car accident and suffered a head injury.
He forgot everything, even his feelings for me.
Then, Yulia showed up.
Charles fell head over heels for her.
He pulled the clueless Yulia right into high society, spoiling her with designer stuff and fancy labels. That was pure extravagance.
Yulia was manipulative on a whole other level.
Out of nowhere, she found me on social media and added me.
She never missed a chance to flaunt her daily life with Charles.
Late at night, she flooded my inbox with long messages and photos.
[Emma, Charles and I are truly in love. Please, just stop holding on to him.]
[He doesn't love you at all. Why can't you just let go?]
[Do you really think you'll ever be happy, just because your families tied you two together in a marriage alliance?]
A marriage alliance?
Yulia had no clue that in my marriage to Charles, I was the one who had no say in it.
He was the one who pursued me.
Our families were family friends for generations, and Charles and I were childhood sweethearts.
If it hadn't been for that accident, Charles and I would have kept living happily ever after.
But reality didn't care about what-ifs.
When I said I was willing to divorce, Charles hesitated over and over. For the sake of his future with Yulia, he had to force himself to tolerate me and finally gave in.
But I set two ground rules.
First, he had to be home by midnight.
Second, for the whole month, he couldn't hook up with any other woman.
If he broke either rule, I'd refuse to sign the divorce papers.
It had only been a few days.
Charles said, "Emma, let me make this clear. Just because you're my wife on paper doesn't mean I love you. What gives you the right to make demands of me?
He let out a cold laugh. "Don't you realize? Every time I walk through the door and see your face, I feel sick to my stomach."
Charles spat out those vicious words without a shred of hesitation.
He couldn't care less about how I felt.
I clenched my teeth, forcing myself not to show any weakness.
On the other end, a girl's voice complained in a coy, playful tone.
She said, "Charles, if you keep calling, I'm really going to get mad.
"Come on, three shots as punishment. Drink up, and I'll forgive you."
It was Yulia.
Then, Charles's voice turned ridiculously sweet and gentle. He said, "Alright, alright, I get it, my little jealous baby."
But right after, his voice went cold again.
He said, "If you've got nothing else, quit bugging me."
I said icily, "Charles, don't forget our deal. Either you come home right now, or I'll come drag you home myself.
"If you don't, you'll never get that divorce from me."
There was a long pause, then Charles snarled viciously, "You're such a bitch."