Emily returned to the apartment they had once shared.

The landlord still recognized her, greeting her warmly. "Emily! No boyfriend with you this time?"

Her mind was a jumble. "He's planning a wedding," she murmured. "Getting married soon."

"I knew you two would make it down the aisle! The whole building's been waiting to celebrate," the landlord said, her face lighting up with a mix of envy and genuine delight. "I've kept the place for you. That cherry tree he planted has been bearing fruit for years now. The blossoms every spring—just beautiful."

The words settled like shards of glass in Emily's chest, a sharp, diffuse ache. She offered a vague reply and fumbled with the key.

Inside, everything remained exactly as they'd left it. On the shelf, a framed photo caught the light: she was beaming at the camera, while Jerry, in his military uniform, held her close, his chin resting on her shoulder as he gazed at her with utter devotion.

Memories flooded in, unstoppable.

The rose-patterned blanket he’d painstakingly crocheted for her—a burst of color that felt like holding a whole bouquet.

Her birthday at the pottery studio. He’d made an adorably lopsided rabbit mug, grinning as he said, "Now you’ll think of me every time you take a sip."

New Year’s Eve, the city sky alive with fireworks while they curled on the couch, playing Tower Defense games until dawn.

Their wedding day. He’d solemnly placed his epaulettes and service medals in her hands, then clasped her fingers as he vowed before the officiant, "Ten years, twenty years… when your hair is silver, I’ll still be right here beside you. I will love you forever."

She just hadn’t realized his "forever" would expire so soon.

Hadn’t realized these memories would end up trapping only her.

Her hands trembled slightly as she began clearing the space. Sentimental items went into the trash. Anything of value was listed for sale online.

She looked at the pale indentation on her ring finger. The Oppenheimer Blue Star Diamond. A one-of-a-kind piece, commissioned for ten billion from the world’s top designer—the ring he’d proposed with. She’d never taken it off, not even in the warzone, when death felt inches away.

The blue stone still glittered, cold and perfect. Everything else had changed.

A bitter smile touched her lips as she finally slid the ring off and placed it in its velvet box.

Staring at the half-empty suitcase, it hit her: apart from some clothes and daily necessities, she had nothing left.

*Ding.*

A notification chimed from her phone. A new post from Judith on her social feed.

**[So happy~ Picking out wedding dresses with my hubby!]**

The man in the photo had a cool, detached elegance. The pure black suit accentuated his tall, straight frame, and his deep-set eyes were captivating. Under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers, he was focused on fastening the intricate back of Judith’s gown, his long fingers resting at her waist. His usually stern expression was softened, almost tender.

Emily found Jerry’s chat, still pinned to the top of her list. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. *You look good in a suit…* she typed, then deleted it. Finally, she settled on: **I’m leaving. I wish you both happiness.**

She hit send. The message immediately turned red, marked with an exclamation point. *Message delivered but blocked by recipient.*

She stared blankly for a moment, then turned off the screen.

As she approached the villa, Judith’s cheerful laughter carried from far away.

There she was, nestled against Jerry on the couch, a tablet in hand as they played some co-op game. Jerry was peeling grapes, feeding them to her with a natural ease.

Emily averted her eyes. "I’m back."

Jerry’s gaze flicked to the bare indentation on her ring finger. A slight frown creased his brow, but before he could speak, Judith wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him sweetly.

"Jerry, I haven’t had much appetite lately," she said, her voice a soft plea. "I heard Emily makes an amazing angelica and red date soup. Could she make some for me?"

Jerry’s eyes shifted coolly to Emily. "Making some tonic soup for Judith isn’t too much to ask, is it?"

An invisible fist closed around Emily’s heart, squeezing the air from her lungs.

The angelica and red date soup. Back when Jerry had lost his memory, she had consulted with a master herbalist, practicing for three grueling months just to perfect it. *Angelica*—the name itself meant "should return." It was her silent, desperate hope that he would return to her, that his memories would.

He had never taken a single sip. Every time, he’d poured it down the drain right in front of her, calling it disgusting.

And now he wanted her to make it for another woman.

No words came. She walked into the kitchen without responding, washed the angelica root and dates, added water and the other ingredients, and set it to simmer over a low flame.

An hour later, she carried the steaming pot into the living room, only to find Jerry’s parents had arrived.

His mother was holding Judith’s hand, her voice full of gentle concern. "If you feel any discomfort during the pregnancy, you must tell us. You’re the first daughter-in-law of the family now. We’ll make sure you want for nothing."

She was busily arranging an array of prenatal supplements she’d brought, along with piles of baby items—a crib, a high chair, bottles, tiny clothes…

"And this," she said, placing documents and a jade pendant in Judith’s hands, "is 30% of the family’s corporate shares, and our ancestral jade heirloom. It has been passed down from the first lady of the family for generations. It belongs to you now."

Power. Wealth. Love and blessing.

None of which Emily had ever received when she married Jerry.

She withdrew her gaze, her expression flat. It didn’t matter anymore. None of it did.

Emily carried the soup bowl over, but Mrs. Hunt’s sharp eyes caught the movement instantly. “What is this?”

Judith covered her mouth with a light laugh. “I heard Emily used to make that special medicinal broth for Jerry. I was curious what it tasted like, so I asked her to make me a bowl.”

“Don’t drink it!”

A violent force struck Emily’s wrist. The bowl overturned, and scalding liquid splashed across the back of her hand, raising angry red blisters almost instantly.

Mrs. Hunt’s face twisted with fury. “You little witch! How dare you try to poison my future daughter-in-law? Are you trying to end the Hunt family line?”

The searing pain in Emily’s hand was so intense her eyes stung. “I didn’t—”

With a cold sneer, Mrs. Hunt shoved her hard. “Don’t think I don’t know your scheming. Since you can’t have my Jerry, you’re targeting his bride!”

Emily fell, her lower back striking the sharp corner of a table. She curled inward, gasping.

“You have no shame,” Mr. Hunt said with a derisive snort, playing the stern patriarch. “Our family has already rejected you, yet you still cling to Jerry.”

“Let me be blunt,” he continued, his voice icy. “This is the Hunt family villa. It will be Jerry and Miss Judith’s marital home. How much longer are you going to play the cuckoo in our nest?”

Emily suddenly laughed.

Beside her, Jerry’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

He had seen her cry. He had seen her rage. He had seen her in despair. But he had never seen her laugh like this—quiet, tinged with mockery.

“Fine. I’ll move out.”

She was leaving anyway. The Hunt villa meant nothing to her now.

As Emily turned to gather her things, Judith caught her arm. “Mom and Dad are just worried about me, so they overreacted. Don’t take it to heart. There’s a banquet tonight. You should come.”

“No, I—”

Emily began to refuse, but Jerry’s voice cut through, cold and abrupt. “If Judith wants you there, you go.”

His eyes were dark and utterly cold. It was an order, leaving no room for negotiation.

A faint, self-mocking smile touched her lips. “Fine. I’ll go.”

That evening, she arrived at the hotel.

Beneath an exquisite crystal chandelier, the floor was carpeted with vivid pink roses, each petal dusted with crushed diamonds that glittered under the lights.

“Mr. Hunt certainly spares no expense. Every diamond here is unique. A sea of pink roses this size must cost a fortune.”

“That’s nothing. He’s famously devoted. Rumor has it he hired a world-renowned philharmonic—the kind that commands eight-figure fees for a single performance—to play the entire evening.”

Under the dazzling lights, Judith stood in a black evening gown, elegant and regal.

Jerry, usually all sharp edges and cold efficiency, had softened. He knelt on one knee, gently sliding silver crystal heels onto her feet.

He gazed up at her, his eyes filled with tender affection.

Someone stepped forward, sighing with admiration. “You must be Mrs. Hunt. I’ve heard so much about the extraordinary way Mr. Hunt cherishes you. You truly are a perfect match!”

The person beside him nudged his elbow, whispering, “That’s Judith. *She* is the actual Mrs. Hunt.”

The man flushed. “Mr. Hunt didn’t even prepare a gown for his wife, yet he puts Judith in the spotlight. No wonder I was mistaken.”

Just as murmurs spread through the crowd, the massive screen at the front of the room changed—to a series of private photos of Judith.

The woman on the screen was nude. Across her pale, elegant shoulder blades was a dense spray of vivid marks.

The fiery red passion marks made a stark pattern against her porcelain skin.

The room erupted in gasps. Several men discreetly raised their phones to snap pictures.

Tears welled in Judith’s eyes. “Emily… I know you don’t like me. You can hit me, you can yell at me… but how could you… how could you do this…”

Her voice broke into a sob.

The guests began to murmur louder.

“How vicious! Judith is about to be married. Is this woman trying to destroy her?”

“She’s just jealous. She thinks this will make him change his mind? She’s delusional.”

Every scornful gaze in the room converged on Emily.

Jerry’s eyes, devoid of any warmth, locked onto her. His gaze was so cold it seemed to pierce straight through.

His voice was like frozen steel. “I warned you not to lay a finger on Judith.”

Emily’s throat tightened. “It wasn’t me. Check the security footage. I’ve been—”

*Slap!*

A sharp blow across her face cut off her words. Her cheek burned.

Jerry’s eyes were glacial. “Using such a despicable method… it’s disgusting.”

“You think humiliating Judith will make me look at you differently? Stop dreaming. I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last woman on earth.”

Tears sprang to Emily’s eyes. “I told you, it wasn’t me!”

His expression turned colder. “Still denying it?”

Jerry had her forcibly taken to a hotel room. A dozen cameras were trained on her. He looked down from his height. “You like taking secret photos? Then let’s see how you like being the subject.”

*Riiip—*

Her clothes were torn open roughly, exposing soft, pale skin. Hands forced her into different positions, holding her down while the cameras flashed.

“Stop… Jerry, please, don’t do this…”

Emily struggled, pleading, but was met only with his cold, detached stare.

“Did you think about *her* having a day like this when you were photographing Judith? She is my wife. I swore I would never let her suffer.”

“Anyone who dares hurt my wife will pay a thousandfold.”

Her cries tore from her throat.

Jerry didn’t look back as he walked out. “Keep shooting. I want 999 photos. Not one less.”

The hotel’s massive digital display cycled through 999 of Emily’s private photos.

“Serves her right. She should’ve known better than to mess with Miss Judith. Getting off without a live broadcast is mercy.”

“Who knew such a vicious woman could have a body like that? Tsk tsk… legs white as alabaster, hips ripe as peaches. I’d love to see her begging and crying beneath me.”

Her face went ashen as the vile words wormed their way into her ears.

And Jerry? Not a flicker of emotion. His hand clasped tightly around Judith’s, his voice a low, tender murmur of comfort.

He never once looked her way.

Emily downed a glass of liquor in one go. The burn seared her throat, sending her into a fit of violent coughing.

She was trying to drown the feeling, to silence that stubborn, traitorous heart of hers. Maybe then it wouldn’t hurt so much.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Drinking alone?”

She was too striking to ignore. A few men with ill intentions closed in, their hands brushing against her thigh, her waist.

A leering middle-aged man hooked a finger under her chin. “Got your heart broken? Big brother here can help you forget all your troubles.”

“Get away… get away from me! Jerry!”

In her panic, his name spilled from her lips.

In the past, he’d always been her first line of defense. He never let anyone lay a finger on her, never let her feel an ounce of hurt. His name had become a reflex, a talisman.

But now, Jerry’s long, elegant fingers were interlaced with Judith’s, the two of them the center of a glittering crowd.

It dawned on her with brutal clarity: Jerry belonged to someone else now.

The heat behind her eyes came sudden and sharp—a sting of something perilously close to tears.

Only when security finally intervened did she escape those groping hands. Clutching her disheveled dress, she fled to the restroom to compose herself.

She was about to leave when she saw them. Jerry had Judith pinned against the vanity, kissing her with a desperate, consuming hunger.

Emily’s vision blurred.

Jerry had a reputation. Distant. Unmoved. People said he was frigid, that he only responded to someone he truly desired.

There was a story—a woman once tried to seduce him, spiking his drink with every drug she could get her hands on. He hadn’t even blinked. Some in their circle even whispered he preferred men.

Then he met Emily. Their first time, he’d been overcome with a passion that shocked even him. His friends teased him mercilessly, saying he’d finally met his match, that she had him wrapped around her little finger.

She’d secretly thrilled at it, believing she was special. Different.

Now she knew the truth. A simple kiss from Judith was enough to make him lose all composure. Enough to make him forget there was a room full of guests just outside.

At the vanity, Judith’s eyes were slightly red-rimmed. “Jerry… Emily is your ex. Doesn’t it bother you, seeing those men touch her like that?”

“Are you jealous?”

Seeing her like this, his voice dropped, rough and husky. “Judith, you’re the only one I care about. What happens to her is none of my concern.”

“But… she waited for you for three years…”

“That was her choice.” He captured her lips again, his voice thick with fraying restraint. He tilted her chin up, his kiss deepening. “Judith, do you really have the mind to worry about anyone else right now? Hmm?”

His hand slid around to the clasp of her bra.

Judith flushed crimson, a muffled gasp escaping her. “Don’t… she’s right outside…”

“Let her watch,” Jerry murmured, a slight frown creasing his brow as his movements grew more deliberate. “This is between us. Do we need to explain ourselves to an outsider?”

It felt like a blunt knife sawing at her heart.

She remembered once, watching a movie, joking with him. “In movies, when the hero loses his memory, he always falls for someone else. If you ever forgot everything, would you forget me too?”

He’d taken her hand and pressed it against his chest. The thunderous beat of his heart vibrated against her fingertips. “Hear that? My heart would recognize you before my memories ever could. So you can never let go of my hand. Ever.”

Every word had felt so real then. Now, they just sounded like a cruel joke.

A bitter smile touched Emily’s lips.

It must be the alcohol, she thought. It wasn’t strong enough, not potent enough tonight. Otherwise, why would her heart feel like it was being torn apart?