After a long, exhausting afternoon, my wound inevitably reopened. I ended up staying in the hospital for ten days. Initially, I had planned a trip during the lull, but my enthusiasm waned.

During those ten days, my college roommate and close friend, Clover, visited me several times. Clover had been with us from the start, witnessing Miles and me transition from being in love to married, and now, to being divorced. Each time she visited, she would launch into a tirade against Miles, as if venting her frustration was the only way to cope.

“Let it go, Clover, it's behind us now,” I would say, though deep down, the sadness lingered. Miles and I had been in love for four years and married for one. I never imagined we would end up here, and so quickly.

My phone screen was frozen on a bank transfer I had made to Miles, and his words echoed in my mind. In that moment, I felt utterly foolish.

Back in college, my parents were keen on toughening my character. They not only restricted my spending but also forbade me from flaunting our family’s wealth. When they found out I was dating, they insisted I keep it secret, even going so far as to demand a prenuptial agreement before my wedding. They openly expressed their doubts about Miles more than once. They were brutally honest; they feared a 'gold digger' would squander everything.

This led to a major argument between us, as I was determined to prove to them that Miles genuinely loved me. Miles and I made our relationship official in the second year of college. After graduation, he chose to skip further studies and jumped into the fast-paced consumer goods industry. He wanted to make money quickly. I didn’t see anything wrong with this; in fact, I fully supported him. He was a college student from a rural background, and his mother had worked tirelessly to provide for his education. During university, he was always working part-time, driven by his goals and ambitions. This drive is what drew me to him.

Miles was always proud and had a strong sense of dignity. Within three years of graduating, he clawed his way up to a managerial position with a six-figure salary. After we got married, his mother urged me to quit my job and focus on starting a family. She advised that having children while young would make it easier to bounce back into shape. But I never anticipated reaching the point of divorce.

My initial agreement to her suggestion and my current lack of pregnancy became tools for Miles to manipulate me.

Looking back now, I can see that the cracks in my relationship with Miles were always there, even if I chose to ignore them. I kept making concessions, blindly giving in to everything and nearly losing myself in the process.

The Miles I married was a different person from the one I fell in love with. Before marriage, he was attentive and eager to please; afterward, he became demanding and controlling, especially after his promotion to department manager. The man who once took care of the cooking and laundry so I wouldn’t have to lift a finger eventually criticized me for not doing housework.

“Adelyn, don’t you understand how hard I work to bring home a paycheck?”

“And even if you can’t earn money, can you at least stop splurging all the time?”

He always spoke with such arrogance. Yet, despite our agreement before marriage, Miles didn’t share his salary with me. He only gave me about $400 a month for household expenses.

He had no idea that after marrying him, I constantly had to cut back on my spending. Even the money I spent on him came from my own savings.

At first, I tried to argue back with him. But over time, I couldn't even be bothered to speak up. The guy who used to work hard to surprise me with gifts and show he cared had vanished. Now, Miles was all about seizing opportunities and stepping over others to get ahead, looking down on those who were once just like him.

Reflecting on this, I felt a surge of anger at myself. Coming from a wealthy family, yet I had let myself live like someone who was struggling. However, I was grateful for one thing: I wasn’t pregnant, and contrary to what Miles and his mother assumed, I hadn’t lost my job.

The day I was discharged from the hospital, Clover called me. She mentioned that something urgent had come up at work, so she wouldn’t be able to help me move. I didn’t dwell on it and told her to concentrate on what she needed to handle. After all, my belongings were already settled in the apartment I’d bought during college, right in the heart of the city.

That evening, after finishing all my tasks, I relaxed on the sofa and called Clover. I intended to invite her over to my new place to thank her for the care and concern she had shown me these past few days and to give her a gift — possibly to share the truth about my family’s real situation.

The phone rang several times before she answered, and her voice sounded a bit breathless.

“Clover, is everything alright?” I asked, feeling slightly concerned.

She paused before telling me she was working overtime at the office and was quite busy. Not wanting to bother her, I ended the call quickly.

Right then, a notification from the home security camera popped up on my phone. Juliet, Miles’ mother, had been adamant about installing the cameras, concerned about my safety living alone. That decision had sparked a big argument between Miles and me, which I eventually gave in to. However, Juliet began using the cameras to scrutinize my every move, so in frustration, I revoked her access and linked the cameras directly to my phone.

Having decided to cut ties with Miles, I accessed the app to disconnect the cameras. But the scene unfolding on the screen left me in shock.

In that moment, an overwhelming wave hit me.

Through the camera, I could clearly see Miles walking brazenly into our home with another woman in his arms. From the moment they entered, they never stopped kissing. They moved quickly, leaving a trail of chaos as they headed to the sofa, completely absorbed in each other and utterly disrespectful.

I could hardly believe my eyes.

The woman was Clover, my supposed best friend, with whom I had just spoken on the phone.