Chapter 1

At the age of 18, I rushed into a burning building to save Jack from a raging fire.

As a result, I became disabled from the waist down.

In a dilapidated rented apartment, he proposed to me with a plastic ring from a soda can.

"Emily, I only want to marry you in this life."

After we got married, he became known as the "internet's most romantic artist" for sketching a portrait of his "disabled wife". His fame skyrocketed, and his artwork sold for thousands of dollars.

But ten years into our marriage, I discovered a portrait of his first love in his study.

He looked at me coldly as I broke down:

"If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be living such a good life."

"Besides, you have no self-respect. You let yourself be tricked by a plastic ring. You're so worthless, how can you compare to Sophia?"

Later, I fulfilled his wish and let him be with Sophia.

But Jack broke down, clutching my wheelchair and sobbing:

"Emily, don't leave me. Didn't we promise to be together forever?"

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Last night, my husband got drunk and fell asleep in his study.

When I went in to clean up this morning, I found a stack of sketches.

It was a thick pile, some old and some new. The one on top even had tear stains on it.

I recognized the woman in the photo.

It was Sophia, his unattainable princess from years ago.

I held back my tears, trying hard to tell myself not to overthink and to trust Jack.

But the small line of text beneath the portrait shattered my last delusion.

"My wife, Sophia."

There had been signs all along.

In recent years, Jack had been coming home later and later, often smelling of unfamiliar perfume.

Except for Jack's fans who believed he "doted on his wife", everyone around us knew the truth.

Jack had long lost any feelings for me.

In his heart, there was only room for his unattainable first love.

I stared at those words, tears silently falling.

Where did that leave me?

What was I to him?

It was late at night when Jack finally came home.

As soon as he walked in, he pointed his camera at me sitting in my wheelchair, looking disheveled.

"Hey everyone, want to know what it's like to spoil a disabled wife?"

He pulled out a bouquet of roses from behind his back and said in a gentle tone:

"Honey, today marks 3,666 days since we met. I bought these roses for you."

I had been crying all afternoon and looked a mess. I wasn't even wearing a bra.

I tried desperately to avoid his camera lens, feeling embarrassed.

"Jack, please stop filming... I'm begging you..."

He frowned slightly, a flash of displeasure crossing his eyes, before turning the camera away.

"Sorry everyone, my wife is a bit upset today. But you know, mood swings are understandable for someone with a disability."

He picked up some sketches from the table and explained to the camera:

"These are my new works. As always, my love for my wife inspired them. Starting bid is $9,999, grab them while you can!"

He saw my tears but turned away without a care.

All the questions I wanted to ask got stuck in my throat.

"The secret to success is 'loving your wife'! Those who love their wives will prosper! Even though my wife is disabled, I've never looked down on her!"

His words struck my heart like hammers, the pain unbearable.

Looking at his back, I felt like the person before me was a complete stranger.

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