After seven years of marriage, my husband and I finally opened the doors to our own sculpture exhibition.

But just as the exhibition began, a girl stormed in, wielding a baseball bat, shattering my sculptures into pieces.

I called for security to detain her, but my husband stepped in.

“Today is meant to be a celebration; let’s not allow something so petty to cloud our joy,” he said.

I was about to let it slide, brushing it off as a stroke of bad luck, when I unexpectedly caught sight of him pinning the girl against the wall.

I overheard her whispering affectionately, “Thank you, Mr. Watkins, for allowing me to experience the beauty of destruction. I’m certain I’ll create even better sculptures in the future!”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him with a fiery passion.

So, he was shameless enough to cheat right before my eyes.

Alright then, if this was how he wanted to play, let’s all dive headfirst into hell together.

No, actually, let their reputations decay while I held onto my confidence and radiated.

As I watched the scene unfold, my head buzzed with disbelief.

I opened my mouth, my throat tightening with emotion, and a hint of sadness glimmered in my typically calm eyes.

Clutching a broken sculpture, I swung it fiercely at her head, obliterating the saint statue that now bore just half a face.

“Ah—”

Fear flickered in the girl’s eyes, and Trenton Watkins quickly stepped in front of her, acting as a shield.

The sculpture struck his back with a solid thud, yet shards rained down upon her head, causing it to swell.

Trenton groaned, bracing himself against the wall, struggling to steady himself under the weight of the impact.

"Are you so desperate that you can't even be discreet? Do you think everyone else is blind?" I lifted my gaze, locking my eyes on the girl cowering behind him.

She clutched her head in pain, eager to argue but quickly silenced by Trenton.

"Cor-"

A disdainful laugh escaped my lips, my eyes brimming with contempt.

"So, you're Corinne Spears, his new assistant? Doesn’t seem like you have much of a backbone. How do you expect to thrive in this position?"

I crossed my arms, a smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth as I took in Trenton’s anxious demeanor.

"That’s absurd! I handle Mr. Watkins’s work perfectly fine!" Corinne thrust her head forward, her fists clenched, brimming with defiance.

I dismissed her protest, sharpening my focus on Trenton, curious to see what flimsy excuse he would offer.

His face hardened, a chill settling in as he shielded Corinne with his arm, chin raised in arrogance and eyes narrowing. "Corinne just graduated; she’s young and reckless. She never meant to shatter the sculptures, so just let it be."

I looked at him as if he were foolish, a smirk tugging at my lips as I burst into instinctive laughter. "Impulsive? Unintentional? Well, she must have quite the aim, wouldn’t you say? Of all the pieces on display, she just had to break mine!”

“And do you even grasp your position? I am your wife, and instead of defending me, you protect this troublemaker? Has she reshaped your mind too?"

Trenton's expression darkened, his gaze slipping away like sand through his fingers.

He knew he was in the wrong, yet he stubbornly clung to defending Corinne.

I took a deliberate step closer, and he reacted as though faced with a formidable threat, gathering the broken shards from the ground and gripping them tightly.

“Mr. Watkins, please don’t do anything drastic. That’s your wife,” Corinne whispered, her grip tightening on his arm as she shot me a smug glance.

Wife?

The very thought felt ridiculous in that instant, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony.

Seeing his unyielding expression, a wave of sadness swept through my eyes.

I shifted my gaze to the meticulously arranged venue, where the sculptures stood as a testament to our shared journey.

Each piece was the fruit of countless hours of dedication from both Trenton and me, a reflection of our years of hard work and passion.

But now, all those years of hard work lay in ruins, shattered by Corinne.

A single tear of frustration traced a path down my cheek as I gazed at the two of them, my eyes glistening with pain. A wave of helplessness crashed over my heart, threatening to drown me.

Once the sculptures had been shattered, I buried my anger, telling myself that I could create another exhibition in the future.

Little did I know that Trenton would develop such a close connection with the one responsible for my heartbreak.

Trenton looked at me, his expression a mix of shock and turmoil, yet he still chose to stand by Corinne’s side.

“Sonia, let’s end this here today!” he declared, taking Corinne’s hand, ready to walk away.

I stood my ground before them, my expression unyielding, not prepared to relent.

He seemed eager to brush everything aside, expecting me to swallow the bitterness without protest, but I refused to let it slide.

“If you want me to drop this, I’ll consider it. But she must compensate me for my losses and publicly apologize, stating that her actions were a momentary lapse in judgment. Otherwise…” I fixed her with a piercing stare, my eyes chillingly dark.

Fear washed over Corinne's face as the reality of my words sank in. If she complied, her career would be in tatters.

Everyone would perceive her as nothing more than a petty individual driven by jealousy and incompetence.

“Mr. Watkins, please, could you plead my case?” she whispered, her hands trembling slightly as she gazed up at him with tear-filled, imploring eyes.

Seeing me draw nearer, Trenton’s demeanor soured. He urged me to show kindness, advising against acting like a shrew and questioning why I was complicating matters for a young girl.

"Enough! Is it too much to ask for an apology?” I interjected coldly, my glare directed at the two of them, impatience simmering beneath my words.

Corinne jumped at the sound of my voice, a shudder coursing through her, and tears began to stream down her face. She bowed repeatedly, her apologies tumbling out in a rush. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Lynn. I truly didn’t know which pieces were yours. If I had realized you were Mr. Watkins' wife, I would never have touched them.”

“I’ll take the damaged sculptures and see to their restoration. Please, don’t make this any more difficult for me,” she pleaded, trembling as she knelt to collect the scattered remnants of the pieces.

I stole a glance at Trenton; his expression was shadowed with anger, his fists were clenched tightly at his sides, and his bloodshot eyes dulled into me.

Those tearful, manipulative words had clearly struck a chord deep within him.

My gaze turned cold as I regarded Corinne, no longer able to mask the contempt swelling in my heart.

“Ah—”

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, her anguished cry pierced the air.

I turned to see a jagged fragment had sliced her palm, blood cascading through her fingers and pooling onto the sculpture.

“I’m so sorry, Ms. Lynn! I really didn’t intend for this to happen!” she implored, her eyes brimming with fear as she looked at me, trembling at the thought of my retaliation.

“Enough, Sonia! How long are you going to keep up this nonsense?” Trenton quickly shed his jacket, wrapping it around her wounded palm.

He shot me a look, his brows furrowed in anger. “Why are you making this difficult for a young girl? Didn’t we endure similar struggles? Are you really that narrow-minded?”

Bitterness pricked at my nose, threatening to spill over.

As a sculptor, I was accustomed to the sting of sharp stones cutting into my skin.

If someone couldn’t endure this minor inconvenience, they might as well stay home.

“Me, narrow-minded? You certainly have a knack for twisting things,” I replied, a bitter laugh escaping my lips at the absurdity of it all.

In his eyes, it felt as if everything I did was wrong, even the simple act of breathing.

“Unreasonable!” he shot back coldly, taking Corinne’s hand and striding away without a second glance.

As I watched him leave with such determination, a surge of anger coursed through me.

My vision blurred, and I quickly grasped the nearby railing for support.

Gazing down at the blood-stained fragments scattered on the ground, I allowed a bitter smile to creep across my lips.

A sense of grievance surged within me, wrapping around my chest like a vice, each breath filled with searing pain.

I discreetly took out my depression medication, letting a pill dissolve on my tongue. It had been a month, and yet he had failed to see my quiet battle.

I shut the exhibition hall, transferring all my remaining works into the small studio where my journey had begun.

It was a space filled with memories of countless days and sleepless nights, bearing witness to my struggles and heartaches.

As I arranged my pieces, I couldn’t help but wonder, had Trenton truly changed?

The love had long since withered, leaving that marriage certificate as the sole barrier between us.

Leaning against the wall, I surveyed the sculptures that crowded the small room, each one a testament to my past.

Among them stood a lifelike statue that we had once crafted together, a bittersweet reminder of what once was.

In those days, he would softly clasp my hand, guiding my movements with the sculpting knife while patiently teaching me the art of carving.

When I accidentally cut myself, he was always there; concern etched on his face as he disinfected and dressed my wound.

“Sonia, we’ll become the greatest sculptors in the world someday. One day, I'll personally carve a statue of you, towering several meters high!” He had declared, his heart racing as I rested against his chest, my eyes closed in sweet contentment.

Yet now, everything had transformed, veering into the absurd and theatrical.

The sharp ring of my phone sliced through my thoughts. I dismissed Trenton’s call once more, turned off my phone, and allowed myself to drift off to sleep at my workbench.

The next morning, I stirred to a flurry of messages, ending with a furious voice message from him. “Sonia, haven’t you had enough? If you’ve got the nerve, don’t ever come back!”

With an impassive expression, I closed the message.

He had only ever questioned why I hadn’t returned home, pinning the blame on me while conveniently ignoring his affair with Corinne.

I exited the studio and headed back to the exhibition to collect the remaining pieces. Yet, just as I stepped out with the final box of sculptures, I was abruptly surrounded by a throng of reporters.

Cameras flashed before me, offering no chance for escape.

“Ms. Lynn, can you explain why the sculpture exhibition with Mr. Watkins was abruptly closed yesterday? Was there a specific reason behind it?”

“Yes, we heard that a mysterious woman destroyed some of your works. Do you have any comments on that, or do you know who she was?”

The questions bombarded me from all directions, leaving me dizzy.

Over the years, Trenton and I had gained a certain level of fame, unwittingly stepping into the spotlight as public figures.

With every bit of strength I could muster, I pushed through the crowd, only to find my way blocked by a girl who suddenly stood in my path. “Ms. Lynn, we’ve heard that Corinne is merely Mr. Watkins’s assistant, but apparently, you can’t stand even the tiniest irritation, keeping any woman away from him!”

I paused, turning back to shoot her a chilling look.

“Refuse to let any woman near him? If your definition of ‘near’ includes your husband kissing another woman, then I must confess, I’m not as forgiving as you are.”

The girl faltered for a moment, then quickly blocked my path again, pressing forward. “But I heard you intentionally used a broken sculpture to hurt Corinne out of spite, causing her significant harm. Even when Mr. Watkins stepped in, you persisted in your actions. Don’t you think you’re bullying her for lacking your experience?”

She spat the word “intentionally,” emphasizing it with a finger pointed straight at me as if she were the arbiter of justice for Corinne.

Sensing a juicy story, the surrounding reporters swung their cameras in my direction.

I managed a bitter smile, reached for a broken piece of sculpture, and held it up with calm determination. “Lacking tolerance? Corinne destroyed years of my work. These sculptures embody my every emotion, each painstaking hour, yet she shattered them without a second thought. And now she believes a mere ‘mistake’ can absolve her?”

Anger bubbled within me as I stared her down, my fists clenched so tightly that my knuckles turned white.

I stepped forward, locking my gaze on her work badge, my eyes cold as ice. “Did Corinne send you? Is she using you to tarnish my reputation? How cheap her tactics are.”

The girl was taken aback, panic flickering in her eyes as she hastily tucked her badge into her shirt. “That’s just your assumption. I’m asking as a reporter, representing the public.”

“I have a video of Mr. Watkins here; why don't you take a look first!,” she said, retrieving her phone to play a video.

It was Trenton, smiling gently as if yesterday’s events had left no mark on him.

“Hello, everyone,” he began, his voice warm and inviting. “First, I want to extend my apologies on behalf of my wife for her actions. Her unreasonable behavior caused harm to my assistant, leading to the unfortunate cancellation of our exhibition. Moving forward, Corinne and I will be collaborating on a new sculpture to share with all of you!”