The archive room door clicked shut behind me. The deputy director's footsteps dissolved into the hospital's white noise.

At the hallway's end, Cameron stood watching me with that familiar, indulgent gaze—the one that used to make my heart flutter.

"What are you doing here?" His brow furrowed as he noticed my stained dress. "And why are you all wet?"

I steadied my voice. "Just spilled my coffee. I was heading to change."

His fingers brushed the damp fabric. "You've burned yourself." A sigh. "My clumsy girl. When you hurt, I hurt too."

Then he kissed me.

The scent of alcohol clung to his breath. Just like every kiss before—lingering, tender, affectionate. But this time, I couldn't breathe.

Love could be faked. Tenderness and concern could be performed—even for someone you didn't love—if it meant protecting the one you truly did.

Tears welled in my eyes. I turned my head away, and they spilled silently down my cheeks.

I followed him to his private lounge. Under the influence of alcohol, he quickly fell asleep.

I sat by the bed, my hands trembling as I unlocked his phone.

Seven years of marriage, and this was the first time I'd ever looked through it.

The password was a string of numbers—Lucy's birthday.

The phone displayed years' worth of partnership documents from the medical group. At a glance, they seemed routine. But a closer look revealed the truth: every single contract was tied to Lucy's charity foundation.

He had sacrificed far more profitable ventures to support her medical aid projects.

Every initiative was based in a small African town, where she had once lived.

Even the project funding amounts were veiled tributes:

Her birthday.

The day she performed her first surgery.

The date she founded her clinic in Africa.

My fingers trembled as I opened his private photo album.

There were a thousand photos, all of Lucy.

Snapshots of her at medical conferences. Candids from hospital rounds. Pictures from charity galas she attended with Nicholas.

In each one, Nicholas's figure had been carefully cropped out, leaving only her smiling presence.

Beyond that were countless procurement orders for medical equipment and supplies.

The latest machines. The rarest medications. All sent to her clinic under the guise of humanitarian aid.

His love for her was hidden in every detail.

And as I stared at it all, a tightness wrapped around my chest.

It was all a lie. Everything I'd believed—all of it—had been a carefully crafted illusion. Cameron's love had never belonged to me.

I let out a bitter laugh and powered off his phone.

Then I booked a one-way ticket to Northern Europe—three days from now.

I also filled out an application to cancel my legal identification records.

Seven years of marriage. If I was going to end it, I'd end it clean.

When it was all done, I felt a weight lift from my chest.

But just then, my phone buzzed with a notification.

A moment later, Cameron's voice echoed from behind me.

"Marianne, what are you canceling? The system just sent me a security alert."

Suppressing the panic clawing at my chest, I forced a smile. "My passport expired. I'm just renewing it. Aren't you heading abroad soon for that medical conference? You have meetings tomorrow, right? You should get some rest."

He wrapped an arm around my waist, his voice muffled against my shoulder.

"You even remember my schedule… You really are the most thoughtful wife."

Then he turned over and mumbled, "Tomorrow night, I'll take you somewhere special. I have a surprise for you."

"All right," I said softly. "I can't wait."

We didn't get home until late that night.

The next morning, his personal assistant arrived, pushing in a breakfast cart.

Every morning, the head chef would prepare meals tailored to my preferences.

I used to think it was the sweetest gesture. But now… I saw it for what it was. A performance.

If he truly cared, how was it that not once—not even once—did he ever cook me even the simplest bowl of anything himself?

Cameron had gone to extraordinary lengths to keep me from interfering with Lucy's medical aid work.

The delicate breakfast spread before me turned my stomach. Without touching a bite, I pushed the tray aside and walked out.

The law office was nearly empty. Within minutes, I held two copies of our divorce agreement.

At the medical group's headquarters, nurses' whispers followed me:

"Isn't that Dr. Mitchell's wife? That Van Cleef & Arpels necklace—he had it custom-made in Paris! I could never afford that in three lifetimes!"

"Dr. Mitchell's so successful, yet completely devoted to her. A real Prince Charming..."

On the top floor, I paused outside the office door. Cameron's gentle voice carried through. "How has he been treating you?"

"Wonderfully," Lucy replied. "Just a few days ago, he agreed to donate the latest medical equipment to the African clinic. We've been married seven years, and he's still so thoughtful…"

His voice dropped noticeably. "That's good… I've always worried about you."

"You've just donated even more equipment to the clinic," she said with a soft laugh. "If Marianne finds out, she won't be pleased."

Lucy was always so sweet, so understanding. But if she truly cared about my feelings, why bring me up at all? Especially when she'd already taken everything from me.

Seven years ago in that hospital room, she'd declared without shame that Nicholas never loved me—that his heart had always been hers. The shock sent my mother into relapse, necessitating emergency surgery that night.

A flurry of footsteps jolted me from the memory.

Cameron's assistant brushed past me and pushed open the door to the meeting room.

Cameron's gaze shot toward me, a flicker of panic flashing in his eyes.

"Marianne? What are you doing here? We're just discussing the aid program for the African clinic. Lucy is the project lead…"

"Long time no see, Marianne," Lucy said as she stood with practiced grace. The embroidery on her new-season dress shimmered in the sunlight.

It was the same dress I'd once asked Cameron to buy for me.

And yet, there it was—on her.

I gave a polite nod. "I was just passing by and thought I'd say hello. Since you're busy with work, I won't keep you."

Cameron rushed out after me, words tumbling over each other in a flurry of explanations.

There was panic in his voice, anxiety in his eyes.

But I felt only exhaustion.

He'd gone to such lengths just to stay close to Lucy. And now, with his dream girl standing right there, he still had the audacity to play the part of a devoted husband?

"It's fine. Go back to work," I said with a smile. "I didn't mean anything by it. I'll just wait for you at home."

He visibly relaxed. After murmuring a few perfunctory reassurances, he turned and hurried back into the office.

Watching his retreating figure, I couldn't help but recall how attentive he used to be when we first got together.

Back then, he would panic over the smallest things that affected me. He told me I could live freely, however I pleased.

And like a fool, I believed him. So I gave up a promotion I'd worked years for—earned from the front lines as a journalist.

Meanwhile, Lucy now held the title of Asia Director for an international medical aid organization.

Time had passed, and the gap between us had become an unbridgeable chasm.

Was this your plan, Cameron? To ensure I'd never catch up, never measure up to your flawless first love?

Back home, I gathered every luxury item he'd ever given me over the past seven years.

One by one, I packed them into cardboard boxes. Then I shipped them all to a luxury resale boutique.

Love, I could live without. But not money.

I would use this money to help people who truly needed it.

As I watched the packages being loaded onto the courier truck, I finally turned away.

And then, a voice cut through the silence behind me.

"All these years, and you're still so useless. You couldn't even save your mother, and now your husband doesn't even respect you."

"Marianne, you're a joke!" Lucy spat.

So… she had known the truth all along?

Seven years of buried rage erupted all at once. I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face.

Lucy staggered backward with dramatic flair, tumbling straight into the fountain behind her.

Before I could react, Cameron shoved me aside and rushed to pull her out of the water.

His eyes turned to me, cold and sharp as ice. "Marianne, have you lost your mind? Lucy came to apologize! How could you lay a hand on her?!"

I let out a bitter laugh. "She mentioned my mother, Cameron. Don't you think it's time we finally settled this?"

His pupils contracted sharply. "Your mom passed away due to a surgical error. What does that have to do with Lucy?! Apologize to her. Right now!"

But Lucy clutched at his sleeve, her voice delicate and filled with false humility.

"It's fine… it was my fault. We both owe Marianne an apology. Maybe this is just my punishment. If she hates me this much, it's best if we stop seeing each other. I don't want to be the reason you two fight."

I watched them walk away, their silhouettes growing smaller as my fingernails dug deep into my palms.

An hour later, Cameron sent me a message:

[Lucy is the lead on our biggest aid project. What you did today could hurt the hospital's reputation. The apology was just for appearances—don't take it personally. I'll be home once I wrap things up. Remember I said I had a surprise for you? Wait for me.]

Every word was laced with his usual gentle charm.

But this entire performance hadn't been for Lucy. It had been for me—to keep me quiet, to keep me blind.

I clutched the divorce papers and waited from late at night until dawn.

He never came home.

But the internet exploded.

#MedicalGroupCEOGoesAllOutForHisMuse shot straight to the top of trending topics.

Despite Lucy only suffering minor scrapes, he had mobilized the hospital's top experts and spared no expense.

Photos showed him gently supporting her during a check-up, his gaze full of tenderness.

The entire medical center had stayed lit through the night—all for one woman's superficial injury.

I looked at the bruises on my wrist—left from when Cameron had yanked me so hard the day before—and felt no more hesitation.

I signed the divorce papers and packed my bags.

Then I went straight to the hospital where my mother had undergone her final surgery.

I retrieved a copy of the organ donation consent form from seven years ago.

At the bottom, glaring back at me was my signature.

But I hadn't signed it.

He had forged it, mimicking my handwriting perfectly.

I made copies of the document and mailed them directly to the hospital.

By the time I boarded my flight, Cameron should have received them.

Just as the boarding announcement rang out, my phone began to buzz.

[Marianne, I asked Brendan to drop off your gift. Why weren't you home?]

[Are you still mad at me?]

[Come on, don't be like this. I'll make it up to you when I get back.]

I stared at the messages on the screen, then tapped into a livestream pushed to my feed.

In the livestream, Cameron was accompanying Lucy as she picked out a dress for a charity gala.

His eyes followed her every move.

I didn't reply. Instead, I quietly deleted every trace of him from my contacts.

One final buzz came through.

It was a confirmation text. [Your ID cancellation was successful.]

Suddenly, chaos broke into the livestream.

Cameron's assistant, Brendan Cole, burst into the frame, gasping for breath, his face pale as ash. He held a document tightly in his hands as he ran up to Cameron.

"Dr. Mitchell! Marianne found out the truth about the surgery from seven years ago. We can't reach her anymore!"

For the first time, cracks split the polished façade on Cameron's face.

He stood frozen, as if someone had just told him a joke too absurd to comprehend.

"What surgery? What are you talking about?"