Chapter 1

In the fifteenth year of my marriage to Richard Thompson, his mistress showed up at our door, pregnant and demanding recognition.

He thought I would do something to that girl who looked so much like me, so he stood there with a cold face, shielding her behind himself.

"I was wrong to promise you we'd be childfree after marriage. But every man wants his own child as he gets older.

"Angelina, don't throw a tantrum. I only see her as a means to have a child. The one I love has always been you," he said.

I calmly signed my name on the divorce papers and told Richard I was going to visit my family.

Richard, holding the startled girl, sneered, "Angelina, your family is all dead. You only have me left."

I silently met his gaze, and he quickly looked away, his eyes filled only with the girl in his arms.

He said, "Well, let's get a fake divorce for now. Once Chana gives birth, I'll remarry you.

"She's sensitive during pregnancy, so I'll let her be Mrs. Thompson for a few months."

What Richard didn't know was that I was dying. There would be no reconciliation between us.

*****

Richard couldn't wait to drag me to the city hall to get the divorce done.

He showed up in a cartoon hoodie that looked ridiculously childish for a man his age and position, with a yellow duck hair tie looped around his wrist.

Just to show he still loved me like he used to, he handed over most of our joint assets to me.

"Angelina, back when we were dating, you said that where there's money, there's love.

"I'm just stringing Chana along for now. Once she has the baby, I'll cut ties with her completely.

"Then I'll hand the baby over to you to raise. You're gentle, caring, and always so understanding. You'd make a wonderful mom," Richard said.

Richard was caught up in his dreams for the future, never noticing how pale and frail I was becoming.

As we stepped out of the city hall, I caught sight of Chana Lane right away. She was dressed in a frilly princess dress, dolled up like she'd just stepped out of a magazine.

Chana didn't even glance my way. She skipped over and flung herself into Richard's arms, her voice sweet and spoiled. "Richard, I've been waiting forever."

Richard let go of his usual cold demeanor, and for once, a smile crept onto his lips. "Yeah, that's my bad, princess. What do you want as compensation? The doctor said it's fine during the second trimester to—"

"Richard," Chana interrupted him.

She shot him a playful glare and lightly punched Richard on the arm, feigning annoyance.

They acted like nobody else was around, flirting and joking with each other. By the time I'd walked far enough away, Richard finally texted me.

[Angelina, everything I said just now was just to cheer her up. Don't worry, it only happened once between us.]

I didn't reply. I blocked him everywhere I could and, barely keeping it together, caught a cab home.

Richard hadn't set foot in our home for ages.

At first, he always said he was swamped with work and had to crash at the office.

Then, a young and adorable assistant named Chana started hanging around him.

Worried I'd get the wrong idea, he kept assuring me it was just a boss-assistant thing, and he'd never cross the line.

I was like a flower. Without his love to keep me alive, I'd wilt in no time.

And Richard hated seeing me so empty, like all the light had gone out of me.

So he fell for Chana. She was bursting with life, fiery and bright, and almost a mirror image of me.

The only traces of Richard left in the house were our wedding photo, a few of his suits, and two pairs of his dress shoes. Nothing else of his remained.

My mind felt foggy, and my whole body was cold and hurting all over.

Even though I was completely worn out, I couldn't sleep at all.

Memories of my days with Richard came rushing in, like a tidal wave crashing over me.

Richard and I met because of an accident.

My dad was a drunk and a gambler, my mom was bedridden with illness, and my little brother wasn't all there upstairs.

I dropped out right after middle school to support my family, grinding away at the hardest, most backbreaking jobs, just scraping by on whatever I could earn.

Richard's family wasn't any better off than mine. Both his parents died in an accident when he was just a little kid.

From the moment he could walk, he was out picking through trash with his frail old grandma, just trying to get by. He hardly went to school at all.

I was twelve, and it was one of those nights with a gentle breeze in the air.

I was so exhausted from working myself to the bone that I just collapsed right in front of him.

He was three years older than me, and he'd already learned how cruel and twisted people could be, so he thought I was just pulling some scam, trying to get money out of him.

After the misunderstanding was cleared up, Richard had me over at his place and cooked me a simple bowl of veggie noodle soup.

Later, my dad got drunk and accidentally killed my mom. My little brother slipped and drowned in the river.

After that, my dad ended his life by drinking half a bottle of pesticide.

That same year, Richard's grandma was crossing the street to collect bottles when a runaway truck with failed brakes crushed her beyond recognition.

The story began simply enough. Two battered souls, scarred by poverty and loss, ended up clinging to each other just to feel a little less cold.