Chapter 2

Ryan's whole body shuddered violently, as if he simply couldn't handle the blow.

He dropped desperately to one knee in front of me, his movements shaky and pleading.

"Stella, please, don't divorce me. You're angry with me, I get it, and it's all my fault," he begged, with desperation in his voice.

Looking up at me, pain flooding his eyes, Ryan choked out. "Please, don't decide anything in the heat of the moment. After everything we've been through, we can't just end it like this."

Grace instinctively reached out and steadied Ryan's trembling shoulders, afraid he might collapse any second.

She said, "Stella, do you even realize everything Ryan's done for this final? For three months, he only managed about four hours of sleep each night. He pushed his body to the breaking point. Muscle injuries have basically become routine for him."

"Even with all that going on, he still remembered your birthday. He asked me ages ago to get you the newest necklace from your favorite jewelry brand," Grace added, her voice laced with concern.

I shot Grace a sarcastic glance.

"With how well you know him and fuss over him, maybe you should be the official caregiver for the Olympics instead of just sticking around here as a team doctor," I sneered.

Grace's face went pale.

How could I forget that birthday present?

Last year, on our wedding anniversary, Ryan had to fly overseas for a major points tournament.

Afraid he'd be lost in a strange place, I pulled an all-nighter researching his opponents, translating local news, and even jotting down dietary tips for him.

While I was bent over a laptop all night for him, he spent the whole evening "relaxing" in the massage therapy room with Grace, who claimed she was too stressed to sleep and apparently needed his constant company.

The next morning, for our anniversary, I got a bracelet. As if that could make up for everything.

Later, I happened to overhear Grace boasting to her colleagues about how Ryan had personally picked out a limited-edition necklace just for her, and, almost as an afterthought, grabbed the cheapest bracelet from the same collection for me.

Seeing Grace looking so hurt, Erica immediately jumped in to defend her.

"Stella, how dare you talk to her like that! Grace was just trying to help. I think you've changed. You must be seeing someone else," Erica snapped, her voice shrill and accusing.

"No wonder you're so eager to get divorced. You just want to take all the money my son worked so hard for and use it to spend it on your new man. Let me tell you, that's not happening. Ryan could have any woman he wants. Female sports reporters are lining up for him, from here all the way to the stadium. And every single one of them is more sensible than you," Erica spat, her words dripping with contempt.

Ryan cut in, his voice thick with pain, "Just stop it, Mom.

"None of this is Stella's fault. I was under so much pressure that I shut her out. If she's mad at me, she has every right to be."

Grace helped Ryan up, and with the way they held onto each other, they really did look like a pair of star-crossed lovebirds caught in their own miserable drama.

I couldn't help but snicker. "Honestly, if I walked in right now, I'd think this was a group therapy awards night for tragic cases."

Just then, chaos erupted outside the hospital room. A few of Ryan's teammates squeezed in, shielding a horde of reporters lugging massive cameras and boom mics.

The instant Erica caught sight of them, she rushed over, grabbing onto a camera as she started to wail for the crowd.

She said, "Please, everyone in the media, you have to stand up for Ryan. He threw away his shot at a gold medal just to save his wife, and now she wants a divorce."

"Tell me, could anyone be more heartless than her? She's out to drive him to ruin, tossing away his life's work like it means nothing!" Erica sobbed, dramatic as ever.

A few of Ryan's younger teammates started shouting too, hyping up the crowd.

"Yeah. Ryan's been nothing but good to you, and you're still never satisfied," one of them yelled.

"We can't just stand by and let you walk all over Ryan like that," another added.

Ryan stepped forward, shielding me behind him, and raised his voice for everyone to hear. "This is between us, so back off and leave Stella out of it. I love her, and I chose to give up everything for her willingly."

The reporters' cameras flashed like crazy, and all around the room, other patients and visitors were gossiping and pointing at me, treating me like I was the main event.

Grace took advantage of the chaos to shove her way over and hugged me tightly, pretending to be protecting me, but her fingers pressed hard against my fresh surgical wound.

"Stella, don't be scared. I'm here for you," she cooed, every word positively dripping with fake sympathy.

The stab of pain made me bend double, cold sweat beading on my forehead as anger and humiliation burned inside.

Erica was still crying her heart out, recounting every sacrifice Ryan had ever made for me and painting me as the heartless villain of her melodrama.

And thanks to her putting on that show for the cameras, the internet blew up—hate pouring in from every corner as strangers lined up to roast me.

Everyone had just forgotten I was once an artistic gymnast too.

Back when I was training for the Olympics, my old injury came back. In the end, I had no choice but to quit, with tears in my eyes.

That was something I'd regret for the rest of my life.

But Ryan was there for me during those darkest days. He looked me straight in the eye and promised, "Stella, just wait for me. I'll bring home the gold for both of us. I'll make your dream come true."

That promise was the biggest reason I chose to marry him.