My husband's childhood friend says she wants her crystal beads to soak up some of the good luck in our home. Because of that, he scatters the beads on the floor, making me slip and miscarry.

I'm in agony as I lie on the operating table. I call my husband incessantly, but all he does is block my number.

I lie in the hospital ward after the operation. I see my husband's childhood friend's social media update—a photo of him worshipfully holding out a certificate while getting down on one knee.

It's captioned, "He loves me so much! I said I'm interested in running a business and he actually set up a company for me!"

On the day of the branch company's grand opening, my husband's childhood friend wears an expensive custom-made gown. Meanwhile, I wear her discarded goods. I'm barred from even entering the building.

I suppress my bitterness and call my lawyer. "Are the divorce procedures done?"

A week after I was discharged from the hospital, my husband Kyron finally returned home.

He looked carefree and smug, but beneath that, he seemed guilty.

I remained calm as I portioned the medications the doctors had prescribed. I did not press him about his disappearance.

"Courtney, I told you about opening a new branch before. It's finally happening!" he exclaimed, acting as if nothing had happened.

"Trust me, things will get better. I didn't contact you because I was busy with this matter. You won't hold it against me, will you?"

I couldn't even muster a fake smile. I moved my lips but nothing came out.

This wasn't the first time Kyron had acted this way. He would manage excuses that sounded reasonable to shut me down each time.

Seeing my lack of reaction, he came over to hug me. I stood up and avoided him.

I said softly, "I'm not mad, but please don't touch me."

Kyron's hands hovered mid-air, he was seemingly unable to believe what was happening.

He chuckled. "Courtney, I'm sorry. Don't be angry, okay? You don't look pretty when you're angry."

I didn't respond.

Look at him. He was still condescending, even when trying to placate me.

It's a pity I only realized this now.

"Guess what I got for you!" he said as he picked up a bag by the entrance. It was a beautifully crafted box with a logo from the city's top restaurant.

"Today's grilled lobster is top-notch. I brought it back especially for you to try," he said excitedly, opening the box and rubbing his hands together. "You love it. Come and have a taste."

I stood there silently.

The sadness felt like a nail pinning me to the spot.

Watching his clownish performance, I managed a faint smile.

"Kyron, we've been married for seven years. I've never eaten seafood. Where did you get the idea that it's my favorite?"

Kyron's hand trembled and the cutlery in his grasp fell to the ground.

His face showed a mix of emotions, but none of them was guilt. There was a hint of discomfort as if he were annoyed that I wasn't playing along.

"I'm sorry, Courtney. I was too busy; I forgot," he said.

He hadn't forgotten anything. Grilled lobster was Fiona's favorite. He had just confused me with someone else.

Kyron tried to make amends as he pulled out a jewelry box. He handed it to me with a smile, saying, "This is the real surprise. Open it and see."

I looked at the logo on the box. It was a luxury brand, but I had no idea what was inside.

When I finally opened it, my eyes started to sting.

This gold-plated necklace was the one Fiona had posted about on her social media earlier that day.

It was a gift to go with her diamond ring.

In other words, he was trying to pawn off Fiona's unwanted junk on me and expected me to be grateful.

I still remembered the caption from Fiona's post.

"With a luxury brand for comparison, this necklace is only fit to be tossed to a beggar. People are always willing to take my trash off my hands."

Apparently, I was that beggar.

And I finally understood why Kyron's gifts were always subpar. The treasures I cherished ended up as tools to shatter my illusions.

"What's wrong, Courtney? You're almost crying with joy over just a necklace?" he asked.

I sniffled and closed the box. "Yeah."

Kyron thought I was overjoyed over his little trick.

"By the way, you called me so many times. Is there something wrong?"

I turned my back as I murmured, "It's fine now." But inside, I felt a chill.

So he guessed that I was uncomfortable.

But what did it matter? He wouldn't worry about me; he would only be annoyed that I was disturbing his good time.

Like when he was with his Fiona on a cruise, watching the sun rise over the sea or proposing under fireworks.

He even felt that spending time to placate me was a waste. I stood up and headed to the bedroom.

Kyron called out to me, but his phone rang.

He didn't answer it. Instead, he turned away with a guilty expression.

"Something's come up. I need to go to the office."

He left the house without noticing my pale complexion or the numerous medicine bottles on the table.

As I heard the door close behind him, I immediately picked up my phone and called my lawyer.

"Start the preparation now. I want a divorce."

The lawyer was surprised by my decision and tried to persuade me.

"Mrs. Stone, are you sure? Have you thought this through? Divorce means a complete separation from your husband."

I nodded but when I realized he couldn't see me, I gritted my teeth and replied, "Yes. I've thought it through. Please start the proceedings."

When I married Kyron, my whole family opposed it. He wasn't from a respected family background, and I was from a wealthy family.

No one thought we were a good match.

It wasn't until my dad forced him to sign a prenuptial agreement that he agreed to let us get married.

I used to joke that he was old-fashioned, saying that Kyron and I would grow old together. Who would have thought it would end like this?

I was the one who went after Kyron. Back in college, I had guys chasing me left and right, but I would shoo them away.

Kyron never approached me, nor did he flatter me because of my social status.

I found out later that it was because Fiona also attended our school. He loved her deeply and was willing to be her lapdog.

It wasn't until Fiona announced she was getting married abroad that Kyron finally gave up.

Or maybe not completely. Perhaps he just got tired of being her lapdog. He sought me as a temporary refuge, but I took it seriously.

That night, after we slept together, I proposed marriage. Kyron was shocked.

He had said, "Courtney, aren't you afraid I have someone else in my heart?"

I replied that I had the confidence to be his wife and lifelong partner.

Looking back, I was so naive. Our relationship had been a joke.

Three years ago, Fiona made one phone call to Kyron. He rushed across the ocean to see her because she said she missed him.

Two years ago, when I was in the emergency room after a car accident, Kyron disappeared. It turned out that Fiona had returned to the country, and they spent the night together.

Last year, during the company's shareholders' meeting, he suddenly vanished. It was later discovered that he had taken Fiona on a walk.

I opened Kyron's travel app.

It showed he had got tons of airline miles from cross-country trips over the past few years.

These were all proof of his unconditional love.

The reason for my miscarriage was also confirmed in Fiona's social media posts.

The so-called crystal bracelet that was supposed to bring luck wasn't something he bought; it was something Fiona had worn for years.

She didn't give it to me for good luck. She just wanted to provoke me.

Kyron knew I was pregnant, but he didn't even warn me when the crystal beads were scattered on the floor, despite the risk of an accident.

I had finally woken up. From the beginning, this marriage was a mistake.

It wasn't until that day when I was alone at home, bleeding profusely, that I realized he never cared about me. I was scared stiff, but I couldn't reach Kyron on the phone.

This mistake had to end.

Kyron, I know you love her. I'll make it easy for you both.

Kyron left not long after.

I washed up and laid down. The doctor had advised me to rest more.

Just as I was about to fall asleep, I received a call from him.

The phone picked up the sound of a purring engine. I had bought that convertible sports car for him.

"Sorry, Courtney. The issue is quite complicated. I won't be back tonight. You don't need to wait for me. Go to sleep.

"I know I've neglected you lately. I'll make it up to you later. We are, after all, a couple who vowed to share joys and sorrows," he added.

I hadn't even spoken before he hung up.

I was wide awake now.

Kyron had used the same excuses countless times, be it company issues, client invitations, or major events.

I let out a cold laugh.

"Forget being a couple. I've had enough of this suffering," I muttered as I stared at the darkened screen.

Vows only matter when they're made. After that, they mean nothing.

The next morning, I woke up to an empty bed and felt relieved. He hadn't come home, just as I expected.

Just as I was about to make breakfast, I received a call from a board member of the company.

"Courtney, what an arrogant husband you have! He doesn't even attend board meetings!"

"It's fine. He won't have the chance to anymore." I chuckled and hung up.

The company was just a tool for him to withdraw money. He didn't care about doing any actual work as long as he could get the money.

I was about to call Kyron when I stumbled upon Fiona's social media post from the previous night.

"Someone just rushed over to be with me despite the rain. I know you love me the most," the post read.

The photo showed the two of them in intimate lighting, Kyron's eyes slightly sparkled.

I called Kyron.

"What's up?" he said, his voice husky with sleep.

I was about to speak when I heard a sultry moan on the other end of the line.

"Kyron, no…"

In an instant, all my blood rushed to my head, my stomach churned, and I felt like vomiting.

I swallowed my words and hung up the phone. I sat down slowly at the kitchen table, still shaking uncontrollably.

Kyron and I had been married for years, but the number of times we'd been intimate could be counted on one hand.

He claimed he was naturally frigid, saying it was a lifelong issue he was born with.

It turned out he just didn't want to touch me. When he was with Fiona, it was a different story altogether.

I calmed down after a while and started frantically scrolling through Fiona's social media posts.

I saved all the photos and videos of the two of them together.

I sent all the evidence of how he fawned over her, cooked for her, and lavished her with expensive gifts to my lawyer.

"Since you love her so much, I'll make her Mrs. Stone myself," I thought.