Chapter 1

Late at night, my husband stumbled home drunk. As he fumbled with his coat, a diamond ring slipped out of his pocket and clattered onto the hardwood floor.

My heart leaped with joy. I smiled, thinking he had finally remembered to make up for the wedding we never had.

But I waited day after day, and the only thing I got was Monica Davis’s public announcement on Instagram.

In the photo, she was wearing the diamond ring, snuggled in my husband’s chest, smiling like a cat that got the cream.

"A gift from my favorite man. I'm absolutely obsessed."

It was only then that I realized Carter knew everything. He had just been playing dumb this whole time.

I left a comment of congratulations under Monica’s post, took a screenshot, and texted it to my husband.

"I don't want the things I have to beg for anymore. And that includes you."

"Excuse me. Which floor is Carter Miller’s office on?"

I asked the receptionist, holding a neatly packed lunchbox.

She looked me up and down with a cold, dismissive stare.

"Fifth floor. And you are?"

I gave her a polite smile and said calmly,

"I'm his wife."

I turned and walked toward the elevator, leaving her whispering behind my back.

I didn't care. I was too excited, hummed a little tune, and clutched the warm lunchbox.

Just last night, Carter came home wasted. He collapsed onto my shoulder the second he stepped through the door.

As I helped him to the bedroom, I heard something metallic hit the floor.

After tucking him in, I went back to check.

There, under the hallway table, was a velvet jewelry box. I opened it with trembling fingers, revealing a stunning, sparkling diamond ring.

I tried it on. It fit my ring finger perfectly. I couldn't help but laugh out loud.

I still remembered when I married Carter. He had absolutely nothing. We didn't even have a proper wedding ceremony, just a quick trip to city hall.

Over the years, he had built himself into a big-shot tech entrepreneur.

I thought he was finally planning a surprise proposal to make it up to me.

As I smiled, tears started rolling down my cheeks.

I had spent years teaching this man how to love, and he was finally putting in the effort.

So, I took the ring off, put it back in the box, and slipped it into his pocket.

I pretended I hadn't seen anything, quietly waiting for his big surprise.

Lost in my thoughts, I found myself standing right outside Carter's office door.

"Oh, Carter, stop it! You're so bad!"

A giggling, high-pitched female voice drifted through the door.

My hand froze right before knocking.

I gripped the handle of the lunchbox tighter and pushed the door open just a crack.

Through the gap, I saw a girl sitting casually on the edge of Carter’s desk.

She was playfully running her fingers through his hair, laughing.

"Eat slower. No one’s going to steal it from you."

Carter looked up at her with eyes full of tenderness.

"I can't help it. Your cooking is just too good."

I froze. In all the years we had been married, Carter had never once complimented my cooking.

He was an incredibly picky eater. He hated this, refused to eat that. It was almost impossible to make something he liked, let alone get a compliment out of him.

I pushed the door open further, wanting to see what kind of magical dish had won him over.

But when I saw the food on the desk, my heart sank into a frozen abyss. My hands started shaking.

It was seafood pasta with heavy garlic and asparagus.

Every single thing on that plate was something he claimed to be absolutely allergic to or disgusted by.

I couldn't stop myself from speaking up.

"Is it really that good?"

The two of them froze and snapped their heads toward me.

Now I could see the woman clearly. She was Carter's personal assistant.

And his college sweetheart—Monica Davis.

Monica slid off the desk, extended her hand, and said with an air of mock professionalism,

"Hi there. I'm his personal assistant, Monica."

There was no respect in her eyes. In fact, she carried herself like she owned the place.

I didn't shake her hand. I just gave her a cold nod.

"Oh, just an assistant? The way you two were flirting, I thought you were his mistress."

I had always been a straight shooter.

Carter couldn't sit still anymore. He slammed his hand on the desk, stood up, and roared,

"Chloe! Watch your mouth!"