I have spent nine years with Serena, and during that time, she has suffered ten miscarriages. Every time, I cared for her, afraid for both her well-being and the baby’s. But every time, for no clear reason, we lost the child. Seeing her pale and weakened from blood loss, my heart broke each time, and I felt a deep sense of guilt.

Then one evening, when she went out to dinner with friends, I decided to pick her up early, worried she might drink too much. I never expected to find her in an embrace, kissing her fitness coach.

"Serena, your husband’s here! Stop kissing him!" One of her friends urged her to pull away. But when she saw me, drunk and sneering, she said, "Perfect timing, come join us, husband."

She then added, "You should thank my coach. If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t have known the pain of almost being a father ten times."

Her friends were confused. "Serena, you know your husband is grieving the loss of your child too. Don’t joke about something so serious." But Serena laughed it off. "What? Those children were mine and Isaiah’s. But I love my husband so much, I sacrificed my body for his image. Why else would I get rid of those children?"

The words cut through me like a sharp knife. I stayed silent and left without a word.

It became clear that what I thought was love was simply submission.

——

As I walked away, a friend of hers spoke, "Serena, you should comfort your husband. He listens to you more than anyone." Her fitness coach, Isaiah Cheshire, added, "I’m sure he’s angry because you're carrying my child again. Maybe I should apologize to him."

But Serena continued, "You’re too soft-hearted and kind. He has no family left. Where else can he go but with me?" She threatened, "Anthony, if you walk out that door, don’t think you’ll ever come back."

Despite my heartache, I took a deep breath, numb but hurt by her betrayal. I turned around and walked back. She scoffed, "See? He doesn’t dare leave. Isaiah worked so hard to make me pregnant, and now he has to worry about your feelings. You’re too much."

I looked at her coldly and said, "Let’s get a divorce."

She grinned, "Are you in such a rush to divorce me because your mistress can’t wait?"

I couldn't help but find it absurd. She had been unfaithful to me, and yet, she accused me of being restless.

"Fine, before we divorce, settle what you owe me," she said, walking over to me and grabbing my hand. "I put this ring on your finger," she tugged the ring off, leaving a bloody scratch on my finger.

"I chose this necklace for you," she pulled the necklace off, leaving a wound on my neck.

"And this dress," she tore at my clothes, regardless of my resistance.

She laughed, "And this underwear I picked for you! Why don’t you take it off too?"

The crowd snickered, and she mocked, "Don’t pretend you want a divorce while still wearing the underwear I chose for you. You’re so hypocritical."

The whispers and lewd laughter echoed around me. "Aren’t you angry? You’re too cowardly to even notice I was having an affair with you every day. Maybe I should have kept it a secret so you could finally experience what it means to be a father."

Her friends laughed, their voices echoing in the cold air. I reached for the coat to shield my body, but Serena was quicker, draping it over Isaiah with a tenderness that stung.

Isaiah, glancing at me, said, "I heard you gave him a lot of your blood recently, and he ended up in the hospital. What if he gets cold without a coat?"

"What does it have to do with me?" I replied, my voice tight. "I only feel sorry for Isaiah."

Isaiah placed a hand on her belly, and her laugh rang out, hollow and mocking.

Serena walked past me, Isaiah in tow. As they passed, she leaned in close and whispered a cold threat, "Don’t forget the marriage contract you signed in the Netherlands. Unless we both agree, you’ll never leave me."

The bitter wind whipped against my bare skin, but it was nothing compared to the chill gnawing at my heart. She slammed the car door shut, sending a puff of gray smoke into the air.

Her friends, noticing the blue-black bruises on my lips from the cold, shouted at me. "Anthony, come on. You’ve tolerated Serena’s infidelities ten times already. What’s a little cold wind to you?"

"Serena’s already made it public. Now, the whole country knows your nickname—Green-haired Turtle."

I closed my eyes, blocking them out.

An hour earlier, I had been lying in a hospital bed, worried about Serena after her last miscarriage. She’d suffered severe bleeding, and I’d been forced to give her a blood transfusion, nearly losing my life in the process.

But now, my heart had been shattered in a way I never imagined. I had rushed out of the hospital, despite the nurse’s pleas, after hearing from Serena's friends, "Anthony, Serena’s been drinking all day, and no one can stop her."

I thought she was drowning her sorrows over the loss of our child. Instead, she was celebrating the pregnancy of the man she truly loved. The heavy bleeding she claimed was just a ploy to appease Isaiah.

One of her friends, unable to watch any longer, offered me a coat. "Sorry, Anthony," she said softly, her voice thick with regret. "We couldn’t do anything. Serena was willing to sacrifice everything to be with you. How has it come to this?"

Her eyes were filled with disappointment and sympathy, and I felt a wave of numbness wash over me. Of all the people who had pursued me, Serena had always been the one I wanted to stay farthest from. She was bold, persistent, and impulsive. Her love, intense and unwavering, was a double-edged sword. She had loved me completely, but one day, that love would be the weapon that destroyed me.

And that day had arrived.

It had been a car accident, smoke and flames enveloping the wreckage. She had rushed to the scene, desperate, her hands shaking as she tried to pull me out.

My legs were trapped under the mangled car, and the vehicle could explode at any moment. "You can’t save me," I told her, pushing her away. "Go now, or you’ll die with me."

But she refused to leave. "If I die, I’ll let my sisters bury us together. I’ll tell everyone I committed suicide with you."

I looked at her tear-streaked face, her makeup long gone, her hair a mess, surrounded by black smoke. A pang of softness struck my heart, and I shook my head. "Maybe sincerity is always changing," I muttered to myself.

I adjusted my clothes and began walking home, the night thick with winter’s bite. Faint headlights appeared ahead, illuminating the road as though they were guiding me, worried for me. My steps grew slower, more erratic, and soon my vision blurred. The cold darkness consumed me, and I collapsed into the snow.

When I woke up, the doctor was the first to speak.

"You lost so much blood and didn’t take care of yourself. You were found freezing in the snow. Do you realize you were on the brink of death when you were brought here?"

I closed my eyes, fighting to keep the tears at bay.

"Sorry..."

"Sorry? Why are you apologizing to us?" The doctor and nurses exchanged concerned looks. "You should be apologizing to yourself. You’ve pushed your body too far. If you don't take better care of yourself, you could lose your kidneys. It could even be fatal next time."

A sharp thought struck me. "Who brought me to the hospital?"

"Your wife. She cried for a long time when she dropped you off."

I froze, biting my lip to hold back the wave of emotions.

The door to my room opened, and the doctor added, "She's here now. Be more careful in the future. Don't take your health for granted."

I turned, expecting to see Serena, but my gaze locked onto someone I hadn’t seen in ten years: my stepsister, Gwen.

I felt a pang of embarrassment. "Gwen, it's been so long. What brought you back to Los Angeles?"

She wiped her red, swollen eyes and sighed. "I came for a multinational meeting. I didn’t expect to see you on the road to the winery."

I realized then that the car I had seen when I collapsed that night was hers.

She reached out, her hand warm as she gently placed it over mine. "Anthony, if you're tired, come back to me. Auntie’s gone, so you don't need to stay with a woman who doesn’t love you, just to avoid me."

I whispered, "I chose Serena because I love her."

Gwen sighed and placed a plane ticket on my bedside table. "Anthony, this ticket never expires. Whenever you're ready, just take it to the airport, and a private plane will bring you to me."

"You still remember my number, right? Call me anytime, and I’ll be there for you."

When she left, I gripped the ticket tightly for a moment before setting it down.

I opened my phone and bought the next available flight. Then, I called the place where Serena and I had signed our marriage contract.

"If you request a divorce unilaterally, we’ll strip you of all your assets, transfer everything to the woman, and you’ll face a one-year sentence. Think carefully."

I spoke quietly but firmly, "If it means I can get a divorce, I’m willing to do anything."

"Your divorce will be finalized in a week."

As soon as I checked my phone, I was bombarded with notifications—endless bills for hotels, nightclubs, and Smurfs that had been charged to my account.

Then, I saw a screenshot from one of my friends, showing Isaiah’s Instagram. From the night I collapsed in the snow until now, there had been over a dozen posts.

Serena had taken Isaiah on a vacation to an island.

In one photo, their little hands were overlapped, and the reflection in the window showed their blurred figures. Another showed Isaiah holding Serena’s hand as they cut a cake to announce the gender of their baby.

A comment from someone who knew us appeared: "Serena’s not even divorced yet, and here she is flaunting her relationship with the so-called ‘mistress.’"

Serena’s reply was cold: "Only the unloved are mistresses."

My heart twisted in agony, and a hollow smile crept across my face. Despair was the only thing left.

I checked out of the hospital, and while they were on vacation, I prepared to pack my things.

When I opened the door to my house, I was hit with the stifling air, and the floor was covered in Smurfs.