My ex-best friend's birthday is also my mother's death anniversary.

When I see Susan Lloyd picking a birthday cake with Hans Luther, I know she's going to snatch my husband after snatching my father from me.

I won't let her get away with it, though.

I don't want to follow in my mother's footsteps and be forced to jump off a building. So, after ruining Susan's birthday party, I leave the divorce agreement I've prepared and move out of my marital home.

It's been less than seven hours since the incident. In that time, I've spent one hour packing, one hour getting to the train station, and three hours getting to my grandmother's house.

In my final two hours, I convince my grandmother to let me stay.

Hans, I don't want you anymore.

Hans Luther was stunned when he realized that Yarmilla Sullivan had blocked him.

After three years of marriage, Yarmilla had always been Hans' dignified, graceful, and kind wife. Her behavior was always impeccable, no matter the occasion.

It wasn't until he came home and saw the divorce papers left on the table that he finally realized he had done something wrong.

The words he had said to her replayed in his head.

"It's been years since it happened. Susan has always wanted to reconcile with you. There's no need to make things so tense. It's Susan's birthday today. She's your elder, and she offered you a toast; you should have accepted it.

"When you were younger, you could blame your upbringing. But if you can't control yourself now, it only shows you're still immature. How could I even think about having children with you when you're like this?"

Hans picked up the divorce papers from the table and read through them before placing them back down.

He didn't think he had done anything wrong. Whether Yarmilla accepted it or not, Susan Lloyd had long ceased being just her best friend and had become her stepmother.

Yarmilla maintained an air of hostility toward Susan, straining family relations and making it difficult for Hans to navigate events where he needed to bring his wife along. Besides, from his interactions with Susan, she didn't seem nearly as intolerable as Yarmilla had described.

Hans genuinely believed that instead of clinging to the past, it was better to change one's mindset and embrace life with a smile.

Still, he couldn't help but panic at the thought that this was the first time Yarmilla had been this furious.

Tightening his grip on the phone, Hans tried calling Yarmilla again.

He was still blocked.

…

From the moment I saw Hans and Susan standing together in the bakery picking out a birthday cake, I knew my marriage with him had come to an end.

To avoid repeating my mother's mistakes, I packed my things and moved out of our marital home right after ruining Susan's birthday party. It had been less than seven hours since it happened.

In these seven hours, I spent an hour packing my belongings, another hour getting to the high-speed train station, three hours traveling to my grandmother's house, and the final two hours successfully convincing her to let me stay.

"Grandma, I've told you that you're terrible at judging people. You picked a scumbag for Mom, and now you've introduced a jerk to me. You've ruined us both. You have to take responsibility."

I laughed as I fed a piece of honeydew melon to Grandma. Then, I gently leaned my head against her back just like I used to as a child.

To be fair, my parents had a strong marriage before I brought Susan home. Back then, not even Mom—let alone me—could have imagined that 18-year-old Susan would fall for my 45-year-old dad.

Despite a 27-year age gap, they loved each other with reckless abandon.

Mom, who had been strong-willed her whole life, couldn't accept that Dad wanted to divorce her for her daughter's classmate.

In a moment of despair, she jumped from the 18th floor.

Fearing that staying with Dad would ruin me, Grandma took me in.

She watched me work for years, staying single and developing a fear of men and marriage. Worried that I would end up by myself after her time was up, she introduced me to Hans.

She thought that since she and Hans' grandmother were close friends, this connection would mean he was trustworthy.

But even she didn't anticipate that, while Hans was excellent in many ways, he was far too rational. In every relationship, Hans weighed the pros and cons without ever considering personal emotions.

So, when he tricked me into attending Susan's birthday party, claimed it was "for my own good", and even gripped my wrist tightly to force me to drink the toast Susan offered, I flipped the table.

I ruined Susan's birthday party.

I proceeded to point straight at Dad's face, demanding to know if he remembered what day it was.

Yes, it seemed ridiculous, really.

Susan's birthday also happened to be Mom's death anniversary.

Yet, aside from me, no one remembered.

That included Hans, who once held me close and softly promised, "From now on, I'll accompany you to pay respects to your mom on her death anniversary. I won't let you face the past alone."

On the day of Mom's death anniversary, he chose to drive toward the bustling city instead of the desolate cemetery.

He held my hand and led me into the grand, luxurious hotel lobby filled with glamorous birthday posters of Susan everywhere I looked. Some were of her alone; others were of her and Dad in sweet, intimate embraces.

As I walked into the private room, Susan was sitting in the main seat as though she owned the place, wearing a pale purple strapless gown. Her long, voluminous curls cascaded down her back. She exuded the presence of a queen.

A diamond ring, several carats in size, adorned her slender, pale finger. It was dazzling enough to hurt my eyes.

When Mom was alive, she once told Dad that she wanted a diamond ring from him for her 40th birthday. It didn't have to be an expensive ring; just something worth a few tens of thousands would do.

And yet, Dad didn't even come home on Mom's 40th birthday.

In the end, I used my pocket money to buy her a diamond ring.

I had a ring just like the one Susan wore. Hans gave it to me on our wedding anniversary last year. It cost over three million.

I didn't want to look, but I couldn't help glancing.

I noticed Dad gazing at Susan with a doting expression. When he saw a strand of hair on her shoulder, he gently picked it off and discarded it.

Such meticulous, tender care was something Mom had never experienced.

Trembling all over, I bit down hard on my tongue.

"You're here, Yarmilla," Susan said. "It makes me happy to see you here today." Her gaze first lingered on Hans' face for a moment, then swept lightly toward me.

As she rose gracefully, her diamond-encrusted nails glinted under the lights, complementing the transparent stem of her wine glass. The crimson liquid in her glass swirled in slow, deliberate circles.

When Hans noticed I wasn't reciprocating Susan's gesture, he picked up a glass of wine from the table and drank in my place.

But before he could finish his drink, I flipped the table.

I still remember vividly the moment those exquisitely plated, outrageously expensive dishes fell to the floor. The way Hans looked at me…

Disappointment. Displeasure. Disdain.

The ever-composed Mrs. Luther had lost her composure today.

I had embarrassed him.

Come to think of it, this was the first time Hans had ever looked at me like that since we met.

When we first started dating, we were just like any ordinary couple. We hiked, watched sunsets, and camped and stargazed together.

On our wedding night, he promised me that I would never have to suffer any grievances for the rest of my life. He swore he would never force me to do anything I didn't want to.

He also vowed that he would never repeat the mistakes my father made.

Susan hadn't set her sights on Hans yet back then. It wasn't until I started noticing something off about Hans and investigated that I discovered the truth.

Since last year, Susan had been secretly contacting Hans under the guise of wanting to repair her relationship with me.

A whole year.

And Hans didn't breathe a single word about it to me.

I had thought about treating Hans as a safe harbor. I tried to trust him. But I was glad I always held back. That restraint allowed me to pull away immediately when things went wrong.

Susan's betrayal and Mom's death had long taught me to never trust anyone fully.

Because of that mindset, I had been prepared for three years. And in the end, those three years of preparation came in handy.

"Have you really thought it through?" Grandma let out a gentle sigh. She knew I was joking and that I never truly blamed her.

Still, it was clear she didn't want to see Hans and me end up like this.

"Yes, especially now when we don't have kids yet."

After marrying Hans, I did consider having children.

But he always felt that I wasn't "positive" enough. He was worried that my psychological state would negatively impact a child's growth.

To help me change, he enrolled me in psychology courses. He even hired a therapist for me.

I told him that, for me, he was more important than any therapist.

But clearly, he didn't take my words seriously.

When he began secretly contacting Susan—having meals, coffee, even shopping together and exchanging gifts—my mental state was bound to suffer.

I only planned to take my things while packing my belongings. However, I ended up uncovering a stack of receipts he had hidden at the bottom of the wardrobe. They were receipts of everything from car keychains to luxury watches and jewelry.

As "senior and junior", "stepmother and son-in-law", they sure had a great relationship.

If Hans had chosen someone else, I might have considered Grandma's wishes and kept up appearances in the marriage.

But of all people, he should never have chosen Susan!

No one knew better than I did what kind of person Susan was.

Before our friendship fell apart, she had jokingly asked me why my family was so well-off, while she had to live a poor person's life. If she ever had the chance, she would take everything from me and make them hers.

And that was exactly what she did. She took my dad away from my mom.

Now that she was dissatisfied with Dad growing old and earning less, she was going to take Hans from me.

"I support you if you've thought this through. Just don't be as foolish as your mom!"

When Mom passed, she had been so impulsive that she didn't leave anything behind for me.

After Susan married my dad, she took control of our family's finances. My spending plummeted the moment Susan became my stepmother.

"She just can't stand to see you living better than her! Someone like her will get what's coming to her!" Grandma complained. She, too, felt indignant because of Susan. Thinking of Mom's fate brought tears to her eyes.

"I'll live better than her. I'll live better than all of them!" I felt confident as I thought about the preparations I had made over the past three years.

…

"Yarmilla, I heard you and Hans had a disagreement. If it's because I asked him to bring you to my birthday party, then I apologize. It's not his fault. I was the one who insisted he help us reconcile.

"You haven't spoken to me for years. I feel terrible about it. And legally speaking, you're my daughter now. I truly want us to go back to how things used to be."

Susan knew exactly how to disgust me. That was why she deliberately said those provoking words.

I didn't need to see her face to know exactly what kind of expression she must have had on the other end of the line.

"Done talking? If so, I'm hanging up."

I had already blocked Susan's number ages ago. I only picked up by mistake because she used someone else's phone to call me.

She was utterly nauseating.

It seemed like I would have to stop answering calls from unfamiliar numbers too from now on.

"Yarmilla, what's done is done. Do you think hiding will make it all go away? Whether you like it or not, my current identity is something you can't change!"

Susan, afraid I'd hang up, raised her voice immediately. Of course, now that her status was different, her tone was no longer the meek, clingy one I used to hear softly calling my name.

"I never planned to change anything. If you want to pick up the garbage I've thrown away, be my guest. Just take it."

As for that scumbag Charlie, I stopped thinking of him as my father long ago.

And Hans? Susan wanted to take him away, didn't she? I'd hand him over on a silver platter!

"You knew?" Susan asked coldly. She still didn't realize that I knew about her secret interactions with Hans over the past year.

"It doesn't matter whether I know or not. What matters is whether Charlie Sullivan knows."