Logan turned around in shock and locked eyes with me as I crouched over awkwardly in my attempt to hobble away.

I forced a nervous smile, but his anger flared immediately.

He snapped, "Why are you always so sneaky? Were you eavesdropping here?"

I explained defensively, "I wasn't eavesdropping! I was here to get my foot injury treated—"

But before I could finish, Zoey stood up in a hurry and lunged toward me. She began, "Logan, don't—"

However, her words were cut short as she seemingly slipped and fell forward with her bowl of hot oatmeal porridge.

"Ah!" I cried out in pain.

The oatmeal porridge spilled squarely onto my leg, while Zoey fell right into Logan's arms.

I couldn't help but curse inwardly at these two idiots. Of all places, they managed to scald me right where it hurt the most.

"I'm sorry, Victoria. I was so scared when I saw you that I accidentally…" Zoey didn't even finish her sentence before she covered her face and began to weep noisily.

Logan immediately shielded her behind him and carefully checked the injury on her wrist. He didn't spare a single glance at me, his wife who had just been burned.

The heat of the oatmeal porridge seeped through my clothes, causing a sharp sting. Tears involuntarily streamed down my face. I wasn't even sure if it was from the burn or from the pain in my heart.

"Stop pretending, Victoria. Zoey didn't do it on purpose," Logan said, his tone full of displeasure.

"It's all my fault. I'm so clumsy and useless. I might as well just die," Zoey sobbed, burying her head into Logan's chest. Her fragile demeanor made it impossible not to pity her.

Standing together, they looked like a couple who had weathered life's storms. Meanwhile, I felt like the outsider ruining the scene.

"Will you be coming home today? I have something to discuss with you." I spoke up, my voice calm and emotionless.

Only then did Logan finally notice the festering wound on my foot. A complicated look flitted across his eyes. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but Zoey tugged on his arm.

"Logan, I need to go for my check-up now," she said.

Logan hesitated for a moment before helping Zoey up and walking away with her.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Zoey's expression. Standing behind Logan, she smiled smugly. It was a provocative smile laced with the arrogance of a victor.

Her gaze seemed to say, "See? He's chosen me, after all."

The hospital lights were harshly bright and cold. While the chaos of the hospital surrounded me, I felt an unusual sense of calm.

"Your burn needs to be treated," the nurse said, interrupting my thoughts. Her voice was warm and professional.

I nodded, allowing her to guide me into the treatment room. The sharp scent of disinfectant stung my nose, but for some reason, it felt more real than anything else.

It was fine. Ten years of love… Well, it didn't matter if those ten years of love crashed and burned one or two days later.

By the time I got home, it was already close to 2:00 pm. A wave of hunger hit me, my stomach protesting and reminding me that I hadn't eaten in far too long.

Without hesitation, I ordered myself a bowl of chitterlings.

In the past, because of Logan's obsession with cleanliness at home, I had never dared to order food that would likely make a mess. On top of that, the smell of chitterlings always made him frown.

But now, who cared about him? I was going to eat it no matter what.

While waiting for the delivery, I unintentionally caught a glimpse of Zoey's latest social media update. It was a video showing Logan's sharp jawline as he carried a young woman in his arms, running through a hospital corridor.

Although the young woman's face wasn't visible in the video, I knew it was Zoey.

The caption read: "The moment I saw you, there was a tsunami in my heart."

I didn't bother reacting to this provocation—it had happened too many times before.

Three years ago, Zoey started her master's program. That was when she fell for Logan, her young and handsome professor, at first sight.

On that very day, she posted a photo of Logan's back with the caption: "I guess this is the most sensible kind of crush—I love you, but you are free to live your life. The love is deep, but I won't entangle myself with you.

"My love for you isn't based on lust or mere physical attraction. I wish you well, even if you have nothing to do with me in the end."

From then onward, she became his number-one pursuer. She chased after him all the way from the university back to our home. Her pursuit became public knowledge.

A year ago, her parents wanted to marry her off after receiving a monetary gift of 100 thousand dollars from her suitor. Zoey stood on the rooftop of the restaurant where Logan and I were celebrating our second wedding anniversary.

She posted a photo overlooking the street below, perfectly framing the twin towers that were at a distance in it. The photo was captioned: "Maybe we'll meet again in the next life."

Of course, Logan went to comfort her. Meanwhile, I sat alone in the restaurant until sunrise.

When Logan finally returned with a tearful Zoey, whom he had led down from the rooftop with all the tenderness in the world, I lost it. I flipped the table, causing everything on it to drop to the floor and shatter into pieces with a loud smash.

And what happened next? Zoey ran, and Logan chased after her. It was then I knew she had him under her spell and wrapped around her finger.

He didn't come home for a week. I didn't return home for a month.

When we both eventually came back, we silently agreed not to bring it up again. We promised that we'd celebrate the next anniversary properly.

But sadly, even this one wasn't properly celebrated either. And now, there wouldn't be another chance to make it up.

In the past, I watched her social media like a hawk, monitoring Logan's every move. Every time I found something inappropriate, it always led to a huge argument between us.

Logan thought I was making a big deal out of nothing. Deep down, I believed his feelings for me had waned and shifted.

But now, these little stunts no longer stirred anything in me.

The doorbell rang, and a surge of excitement rose within me. I thought my long-awaited bowl of chitterlings had finally arrived.

Balancing myself on one foot, I carefully hopped toward the door. But when I opened it, I saw Logan and Zoey standing outside.

The disappointment on my face did not escape their notice.

"I left in such a hurry yesterday that I forgot my keys," Logan explained flatly.

As he spoke, he casually picked up the pair of slippers that had tortoise cartoons on them. I had always cherished those slippers, so I'd never worn them. Yet, he handed them to Zoey.

Those slippers had once been exclusively mine, but now he gave them away without a second thought.

"You don't need to explain anything to me," I said, my mind focused on my dinner. I hopped over to the table to grab my phone, intending to check the delivery driver's location.

"Victoria, it's all my fault. Don't be angry at Logan," Zoey immediately said in a trembling voice, her eyes welling up with tears.

"What now, Victoria? Zoey just graduated with her master's degree and is being pressured into marriage by her parents. She has nowhere to stay. What's wrong with letting her live here for a few days?" Logan said in irritation.

At that, I couldn't help but laugh. My laugh was filled with self-mockery and helplessness.

Upon hearing my laughter, Logan misunderstood and thought I was mocking them.

"How can you be so heartless? You're even laughing at this?" he questioned with a stern expression.

When I saw his serious expression, I laughed so hard that tears streamed down my cheeks.

"Let's talk, Logan," I said, my voice carrying a tone of finality.

"Don't start anything. Zoey hasn't slept all night and needs to rest," Logan replied impatiently, his eyes brimming with discontent toward me.

"Let's get a divorce," I said, not wanting to drag this out any longer. I voiced my thoughts firmly.

Logan, however, didn't take what I said seriously.

"Why can't you be more understanding? It's just a pair of slippers," he said, his gaze briefly falling on the tortoise-patterned slippers before quickly looking away. He was flippant and aversive, as if he wanted to downplay the significance of those slippers.

"Logan, I said we're getting a divorce," I repeated, emphasizing each word.