From the very first day Gideon stepped into Sloane Manor, I should've known that I could never win against him.

This wasn't the first time he'd sent me abusive messages. I'd even shown them to my parents before, hoping they'd finally see his true colors and stop being fooled by his meek, obedient act.

But they only looked at me with disdain.

"Ivan," Mom said. "As expected of a child raised in the middle of nowhere. To think you'd resort to such tactics to frame Gideon. It's disgusting."

Disgusting. My own birth mother had used such a word to describe me.

It wasn't until later that I learned that Gideon had long since prepared countermeasures. He'd told our parents that I'd picked up bad habits from who knew where, and that I loved making things up.

The truth was, all my parents had to do was look more closely, and they would've realized that the screenshots hadn't been edited; they were real chat records.

But they hadn't. They'd rather believe that I was making things up than accept that Gideon was capable of something like that.

Things hadn't always been this way, though.

Before Gideon came along, I was also my parents' beloved youngest son. So when exactly did my life take a turn?

It was after Gideon came into the picture and our parents took us all on a family trip. The whole way, they only paid attention to Hillary and Gideon, not noticing that I had already fallen behind.

I became lost in the unfamiliar city. A man told me he'd take me to the police station, and I believed him. But once I got into his car, my hands and feet were bound.

That was when I realized I'd run into a human trafficker.

Before I lost consciousness from the chloroform, I saw cars passing by, as well as a family of four walking past. They walked hand in hand down the street, looking extremely happy. They didn't even realize that they were missing a son.

I screamed desperately, but it was useless. They were completely immersed in the joy of being together as a family, completely oblivious to me and my predicament.

…

When I returned to our apartment, our marital home, the place was empty. I knew Lenora was still at the hospital taking care of Gideon.

Every piece of furniture in the place, down to the smallest decorative items, had been chosen by Lenora and me together.

Even though we hadn't officially moved in yet, it was already filled with memories.

I walked into the nursery.

Everything inside was soft pastel colors and filled with adorable baby items.

Lenora said she loved children and wanted to have a child of our own as soon as we got married. Compared to a child, I loved her more. I was also worried that once we had a baby, she wouldn't enjoy the same freedom she did now.

But Lenora had said that a child would be the fruit of our love.

Unable to refuse her, I had the nursery prepared in advance during the renovations. Whenever Lenora saw cute baby supplies, she'd buy them and place them inside. Over time, the room had filled up.

When we decorated this apartment together, I could clearly see the love in her eyes. So why had things turned out like this?

Suddenly, I heard the sound of the door opening. I walked out of the nursery and saw Lenora entering the apartment. She looked tired. It was obvious she'd put a lot of energy into caring for Gideon.

When she noticed how distant I looked, she walked over and hugged me.

"Ivan, Gideon suddenly fell ill today. You know he has depression. I was afraid something might happen to him, so I had to stay with him. As soon as he felt better, I came straight back."

She explained it so matter-of-factly, as if everything about the situation was perfectly normal, and I was the one making a fuss.

When she didn't hear a response from me, she realized I might be angry and quickly added, "Babe, it really was an emergency today. I'm sorry. It won't happen again. Let's pick another good date and hold the wedding ceremony then, alright?"

I looked at Lenora. The urgency in her eyes made it seem like she truly did love me.

If I hadn't known what kind of person Lenora Bennet was, I might've actually believed her. But this wasn't the first time she'd abandoned me for Gideon.

Every single time that happened, Lenora would placate me, coaxing and promising me that it was the last time.

But as soon as Gideon called her again, she'd abandon me without hesitation and run to him.

"Lenora," I said, looking at her.

Thinking that the issue had already passed, she answered happily and threw herself into my arms, nuzzling against me.

I caught the scent of men's cologne on her, and a wave of disgust churned in me. It was the woody fragrance that Gideon loved most. There was no way I could ever mistake it.

I pushed her away. "The smell on you is disgusting."

Lenora didn't expect me to do that. She looked at me in surprise, then, sounding hurt, said, "Babe, how can you say that to me?"

In the past, my heart would've ached terribly just seeing her like this. But now, I merely looked at her coldly and said, "Lenora, let's get a divorce."

We were legally married, we just hadn't had the wedding ceremony yet.

Lenora immediately began to tear up. She took my hand, her voice trembling. "Babe, how can you ask for a divorce? Didn't we promise we'd stay together forever?"

A chuckle escaped me. So she did remember the vow we'd made to be together forever. Yet, the person to break the promise first was her.

I pulled my hand free. "I told you before you left. If you ran out on the wedding, we'd be over. For good."

Lenora started crying uncontrollably, sobbing as she tried to explain, "No, babe. I never wanted a divorce…"

She kept talking, but I had no interest in listening. I walked right out of the apartment. No matter how much she cried and shouted behind me, I never once looked back.

I didn't feel like going back to Sloane Manor, so I checked into a hotel nearby.

That night, I couldn't sleep at all. It was only after taking some melatonin that I finally drifted off, but even then, my sleep was restless.

In my dream, I returned to that village again. Just thinking about those hell-like years made me tremble uncontrollably.

The traffickers had kidnapped me, but because I was a boy, I wasn't as easily sold as the girls. So they kept me locked up in a dog cage, feeding me dog food, and making me entertain them every day as if I were an actual dog.

Whenever they were in a bad mood, they'd take it out on me, leaving my face and body covered in scars.

Eventually, I was sold to a middle-aged couple, who had just lost their son. They took me to a remote, impoverished village.

Lex and Gina Little had bought me, not because they wanted a son, but because they wanted someone to serve them and take care of them when they grew old. Since I was older, I was the cheapest option.

From the moment I arrived at their house, I had to wake up before dawn to start work. I farmed, fed pigs, and even prepared their meals and did their laundry on a strict schedule.

I had to keep moving, never allowed to stop. If I stopped for even a moment, they'd whip me with a riding crop, beat me with a cane, or humiliate me with the cruelest words and curses.

The other kids in the village bullied me as well. There was rarely a part of me that wasn't injured or bruised.

Every single day, I never gave up trying to escape the village. It wasn't until a year later—when Gina became pregnant, and they were so caught up in their joy that they stopped paying attention to me—that I finally managed to make a run for it.

But I wasn't successful. The villagers caught me and sent me back.

Lex beat me savagely, then locked me up in the pigsty without giving me any medical treatment.

I spent three days in the pigsty without a single drop of water or a bite of food. It wasn't until I was so hungry that my vision blurred and I was on the verge of death that they finally relented.

"You ungrateful brat!" Lex snapped as he threw pig slop at me. "You only deserve pig feed!"

I didn't even have the strength to say anything. Using my hands, I scooped up the spoiled, fly-covered slop and shoved it into my mouth. The rotten, foul stench filled my nose and mouth. I wanted to throw it up, but I knew that if I didn't eat it, I'd die.

But I couldn't die. I wanted to go back home and see my parents.

That was the kind of life I lived during those years in the village.

When Lex and Gina were in a good mood, they'd let me eat real food. When they weren't, I could only eat pig feed in the pigsty alongside the pigs.

That was how I ended up with severe gastritis.

When Lenora learned about how my gastritis came about, she was heartbroken for me. She even signed up for a nutrition course just for me and came up with new ways every day to make balanced and nutritious meals for me.

The thing I ate most was the nutrient-dense oatmeal she'd make for me daily, which was sometimes sweet and sometimes savory.

When I worked late, she'd even bring a thermos with that oatmeal to my office building sometimes. My friends all said I was lucky to have found such a caring girlfriend.

But if I had known that Lenora had once been in a relationship with Gideon, I would've never gotten together with her. Gideon had already taken my parents and my sister from me. I didn't want anything to do with him again.

Yet it seemed like fate had decided to play a cruel joke on me.

On the day Lenora and I got engaged, Gideon returned. He showed up at the engagement party and greeted Lenora casually. "It's been a long time."

I saw the tears welling up in her eyes, and I could tell that they were tears of joy. Maybe I should've understood then that no matter what it was, I could never compete with Gideon.

…

The next day, when I arrived at work, Lenora showed up carrying that familiar thermos. She handed it to me and looked at me eagerly.

"Ivan, your stomach isn't in good shape, so make sure you eat breakfast. I got up early this morning to make this very nutritious oatmeal for you. Have some."

I looked at the thermos in Lenora's hand and felt myself softening a little. But just as I was about to open it, I noticed she was holding an identical thermos in her other hand.

Sensing that I had noticed the second thermos, she instinctively hid it behind her back.

"Babe, please don't misunderstand. Gwen said Gideon hasn't been able to eat anything, so she asked me to make some oatmeal for him."

My expression darkened as understanding dawned on me. But I still couldn't help but ask, "Lenora, when you were making the oatmeal, were you thinking about your husband with gastritis, or that first love of yours who's sick?"

When I opened the thermos and saw the savory oatmeal inside, my body started to tremble uncontrollably.

"I guess you were thinking about your first love then," I said. "You forgot that I'm allergic to seafood, especially shrimp."

I noticed the shrimp topping the oatmeal right away. I had a severe—even life-threatening—allergy to shrimp. But because Gideon loved eating shrimp, every meal we had together as a family had shrimp on the table.

The fishy smell of the shrimp filled my senses, making me nauseous. I fought down the urge to vomit and looked at Lenora, who was still trying to explain herself.

"Lenora, I'm begging you," I said coldly. "Let's get a divorce. It's better than torturing each other like this."

She refused without hesitation. "I won't agree to it."

I didn't understand. Lenora clearly didn't love me, so why wouldn't she just agree to a divorce?

I wanted to argue further, but her phone started ringing right then and cut me off. She answered the call, and that anxious look returned to her face.

After hanging up, she looked at me. "Babe, if you can't have the oatmeal, then go buy something else for breakfast. I'll explain everything later."

With that, she rushed out holding the second thermos in her hand.

I stared at the oatmeal for a long while, then dumped it out expressionlessly.