Two years after the death of my husband, John Foster, I get a video call from him—except it's him from five years in the future.

"John! You're still alive! Tell me where you are. I'm coming now to bring you home!"

Crying tears of joy, I scramble to pick up the car keys I dropped, only to hear him say, "Actually, I faked my death to be with your friend…"

As my mind goes blank, he continues to tell me everything as if none of it is a big deal.

"I attended my funeral. The whole time you were crying beside my casket, I was in the back room with Adaline, getting it on with her. You thought her eyes were red because she was crying in grief.

"Oh, my mother and our son know that I faked my death, too. Every year, they've found all kinds of excuses to come spend time with us instead…"

My blood turns cold. My hand shakes as I clutch the phone.

Meanwhile, John exhales, looking like he has taken a load off his chest.

"I've already told you the truth about everything now, Cecilia, so it's up to you whether you want to continue living like a widow."

I crumpled to the floor, feeling like all the strength had been sapped out of me.

John Foster frowned as he reminded me, "Cece, your foot is bleeding…"

Only then did I notice the bloody footprints across the floor.

In my rush to head out the door, I had knocked over a wine bottle, and the glass shards had pierced the soles of my feet. Yet I hadn't felt a thing, my mind consumed only by the exuberant joy of reuniting with my long-lost husband.

"The first-aid kit is in the drawer under the television. There's a bottle of iodine and some gauze inside. You're still as clumsy as you've ever been. Since I'm not around anymore, you have to learn how to take care of yourself!"

John spoke with the same gentle tone as he used to.

Even as a child, I'd always been careless. I was used to finding new scraps and bruises on my body every day.

But after I met John, even the slightest bruise would make his heart ache. "Your body doesn't belong to just you anymore. It's mine, too, and I won't let you hurt it anymore!"

The loving words he once said to me still echoed in my ears.

Suddenly, I pressed down hard, forcing the glass shards deeper into my flesh like a woman who'd lost her mind.

This had to be a dream. Or maybe I was drunk.

Why else would John suddenly tell me that he didn't love me? That everyone was just lying to me this whole time?

"Cecilia! Cecilia Jamison!"

Startled to see my sudden meltdown, John began shouting in agitation.

"No matter how much you hurt yourself, you can't change anything! If you don't believe me, check the loose floorboard under the money tree in the living room. You'll understand then."

I froze and stiffly turned my head toward the money tree that was right in front of me. But I didn't dare to check.

John grew impatient and started urging me.

I hobbled over to the plant and pushed the pot aside, lifting the loose floorboard.

An album was hidden beneath it, and all the photos were of John and… my best friend, Adaline Seymour.

It turned out that they were childhood sweethearts.

The album was a record of every beautiful moment they had shared with each other. As children, they played in the mud together. As teenagers, they won a duet piano competition.

They went on to see the romantic northern lights together and took hot air balloon rides abroad. Throughout every season and across every corner of the world, there were traces of them walking side by side.

The look in their eyes as they stared at each other had gone from innocent friendship to something deeper, a lingering desire.

The final photo was of Adaline's sleeping visage, her features still youthful. Three words were written on the back.

"Wait for me."

All at once, my stubborn disbelief burst. The pain coming from my feet shot straight to my heart, making my tears stream down.

I looked at my bloodied hands and recalled the way they'd once held a bloodied John in them. I could still remember how he looked, all covered in blood two years ago.

It'd happened on my birthday. I cajoled John into taking me to an island to go diving. But on the way, we were caught in a severe car accident.

He'd shielded me protectively with his body. He wanted to wipe the tears from my face, but didn't want to smear his blood on me.

"Don't cry. How can I bear to leave you?"

But as it turned out, everything had been a lie.

I felt a lump in my throat, making me choke. My voice was hoarse as I asked, "Why? Why did you marry me…"

After seeing those photos in the album, I knew he'd fallen in love with Adaline even before he met me.

John sighed. "Adaline wanted me to marry you."

That single sentence crushed my heart into pieces, filling me with a chilling, agonizing sensation.

"Adaline noticed my feelings for her, but she chose to avoid them, so she introduced you to me. She later asked me to marry you. I did everything she asked of me. It couldn't be helped. After all, I've always been…"

His voice was exasperated, yet laced with the sweetest tenderness.

This was how I found out that all the care and affection he showed me was only because he wanted to fulfill the request of the woman he truly loved.

I was just a pathetic clown forced to be a part of their twisted relationship.

My lips twitched as I forced out a bitter chuckle. "Tell me where you guys are now. Where are you two?"

I stood outside the house, looking through the window, taking in the cozy dining room.

John, my husband who'd supposedly died two years ago, was sitting in front of a birthday cake. Adaline, my dear friend who claimed she'd gone abroad for work, placed a birthday hat on him.

Greta Parker, my mother-in-law, and Henry Foster, my own son, who'd repeatedly left on trips without me the last few years, were now clapping their hands and singing the birthday song.

They looked like such a warm and loving family of four, while I stood outside in the summer night breeze, feeling chilled to the bone.

For the last two years, I'd dreamed of such a scene every night. Yet it was now right before me, mocking me cruelly.

John clasped his hands together and closed his eyes to make a wish. "I wish for our family to always be safe and happy, and I hope we will never be separated."

That was the last straw that broke me.

My birthday had turned into his death anniversary. And on his birthdays, I would drown myself in booze to numb the grief.

These last two birthdays had caused me nothing but pain, like thorns driven deep into my heart. Yet here he was, wishing for his family to be safe and happy.

Only I wasn't included in this family of his.

It felt as if something had clenched around my heart, the unbearable pain making it hard for me to breathe.

Henry was happily munching his cake while saying, "I wish I could fake my death like you did, Dad! That way, I'll get to stay with Adaline all the time, too!"

"Don't you dare!" Greta chided him at once. "You still need to inherit the family company, Henry. We can't let that damned Cecilia get everything!"

John frowned. "Mom, don't talk about Cecilia like that. She has had to manage the company on her own for the last two years while taking care of you and Henry—"

"Fine. I'll stop," Greta interrupted impatiently.

Greta had never liked me from the start, and after John's supposed death, she despised me even more. She blamed me for insisting on going to the island that day. She said I was responsible for his death.

Feeling guilty myself, I allowed her to lash out at me and hit me as she pleased. But in the end, she turned out to be the best actress in the family.

I took a deep breath and raised my hand to knock on the door. When Adaline opened it and saw me, her eyes widened in horror.

Only then did I realize that she was pregnant.

"Congratulations! You're almost due, aren't you? Why didn't you tell your best friend about your pregnancy?"

Adaline's face turned ghostly pale. Her lips parted, but no words came out.

I stepped right past her and entered the house. Everyone was thunderstruck to see me.

Smirking, I stared right at the birthday boy. "Happy birthday, my dear husband."

John was frozen stiff.

Out of nowhere, I grabbed the cake and threw it to the floor. It just so happened to fall right beside Adaline, making her jump in alarm.

John rushed over at once to steady her, looking extremely nervous.

Henry stomped on my foot angrily. "You nasty woman! How dare you bully my mom! Get the hell out of here!"

I stared at the boy who was glowering at me, his expression hostile. I couldn't understand how the son I gave birth to after much difficulty and cherished with my whole heart would end up behaving like this toward me.

Frowning, John reprimanded him. "Don't be so rude to your mother, Henry!"

His eyes flickered with remorse as he turned to me next. "Cecilia, I can explain—"

I gave him a hard slap, but at the very next moment, my own ears were ringing as my head flew to the side.

"How dare you hit him!" Greta screeched at me. "You're the one who got in between John and Addy in the first place! You're the real homewrecker!"

Eyes red, I smiled bitterly and asked, "Am I?"

John avoided my gaze, neither confirming nor denying it.

The marriage I'd cherished and devoted myself to ended up being nothing more than a joke. The marriage certificate was just a meaningless piece of paper.

Adaline abruptly dropped to her knees, tears streaming down her face.

"It's all my fault, Cece. I'm the shameless one. I betrayed our friendship…"

She kept crying, becoming increasingly agitated. The emotional distress ended up affecting her baby. Clutching her abdomen, she gasped in pain.

I instinctively reached out to help her up, only to be shoved aside. I crashed right into a flower pot and fell onto the broken shards of pottery.

John picked Adaline up in his arms and left without a second glance. Greta also grabbed Henry and rushed off behind them.

But before leaving, she jabbed her finger at me and screamed, "If anything happens to my grandson, I'll make your life a living hell!"

I sat on the pile of broken pottery shards, my blood getting everywhere. It was a devastating sight.

My eyes were fixed on the wedding portrait hung up on the wall, depicting the garden wedding ceremony John and Adaline held.

When we got married, I wanted to do it at a chapel, but John refused. I'd never seen him as adamant about something as he'd been then.

Only did it all make sense to me—Adaline was the one who had a thing for garden weddings.

The pain in my chest suffocated me.

Just then, I got a video call from the 32-year-old John. As soon as it connected, he raged at me.

"Cecilia! Why did the date for Addy and my son's birthday move up? What did you do to cause her to go into premature labor? Are you trying to ruin Addy and force her to end up like you just because you can't have children anymore?"

My mind went completely blank, and my throat felt all clogged up.

"What did you say?" I asked.

John froze, realizing that he'd let the truth slip out by accident. Pursing his lips, he hesitated for a few seconds before coming clean.

"Addy was the one who arranged for you to be pushed down the stairs at the mall, causing your miscarriage."

My breath hitched, and my heart seemed to stop beating.

After John supposedly died, I began to starve myself, refusing to eat or drink anything. I spent all my time clutching his urn, crying my heart out. That went on until I found out I was pregnant.

That unborn child reignited my desire to live—but just two days later, I was shoved down the stairs and ended up miscarrying the baby.

It'd broken me completely. I started swallowing antidepressants by the handful, unable to stop myself from trying to take my own life.

It was Adaline who stayed by my side, doing everything she could to help me recover. She's accompanied me through that dark period and helped me emerge from the shadows.

But now, I was told that she was the murderer responsible for killing my unborn child. She had also taken from me the chance to ever have another child.

My blood ran cold.

"Addy did it for your sake. If you kept that baby, it would've only been a burden to you. She just didn't expect the miscarriage to leave you infertile. She was afraid you'd be upset, so she forbade everyone from telling you about it. All along, she's been doing what's best for you—"

"Doing what's best for me?" I cut John off.

It sounded so absurd to hear him say that.

"She made me miscarry my child and left me infertile because that was what's best for me? That's the biggest joke I've ever heard in my life. What about when she betrayed me, then? Did she get into bed with you because that was what's best for me, too?"

John's expression darkened, and his voice turned icy. "Don't be so unreasonable, Cecilia!"

My whole body trembled as I pressed my hand to my broken and mutilated heart. Tears poured down my face.

When John saw the tears, his eyes flickered with pity. Just as he was about to speak, Adaline's voice rang out from the other end of the call.

"Who are you chatting with, darling? It's our 5th wedding anniversary today. You said you'd set off fireworks across the entire city as a gift to me…"

John ended the video call in a panic.

I let out a bitter laugh. He'd said the same thing to me on our 5th wedding anniversary. At the time, I'd looked forward to it with such eager anticipation. But what did I get instead?

"Sorry, Cece."

Those were the words he greeted me with. He went on to explain that he'd accidentally smashed the Lego set that Adaline had already built halfway. She wanted him to issue a public apology all across the city before she'd forgive him.

All this time, he'd always put her first. Why was I such a fool that I never connected the dots before?

When I arrived at the hospital, I heard cheerful laughter coming from Adaline's hospital room.

"My new brother is so cute! I love him!" Henry declared.

"My new grandson is so precious. He has his mom's eyes and his dad's mouth…"

Greta and Henry hovered around the baby while John gently fed Adaline some soup. "I had the housekeeper prepare the soup with your favorite shrimp."

He blew on every spoonful to make sure it wasn't too hot before feeding it to her.

John never remembered any of my preferences, but he knew all of Adaline's like the back of his hand. They'd grown up together, so I always told myself it was only because we hadn't known each other long enough. Surely, after a decade or two of a loving marriage, he would come to know my likes and dislikes just as well.

But now, I figured it out. Time was never the issue. It was only ever a matter of whether he'd bothered making the effort.

Adaline was the first to notice me standing at the door. Her eyes turned red, and she choked out, "You're here to see me, Cece. Does that mean you're willing to forgive me now?"

Greta immediately cradled the baby in her arms, her expression wary.

Meanwhile, Henry ran toward me and tried to push me out of the room.

"Go away! I won't let you hurt my mom and my brother!"

John grabbed Henry and admonished him, so he threw herself into Adaline's arms and started wailing.

My heart twisted painfully as I looked at John.

"Let's get a divorce."