On the third year of her marriage to Tristan Ford, Nicole Snow caught him in their bed with another woman on her birthday.

Watching the man she had loved for ten years, and seeing him maintain his tender facade before others, Nicole's heart was completely shattered.

She remembered the vow Tristan once made to her with deep affection:

"Nicky, I want to spend my whole life with you. Unless death separates us, I’ll search the ends of the earth to find you. Nothing will ever keep us apart."

Fine, then she would die, so he could never find her.

"Miss Snow, the post-mortem service you purchased will take place in seven days, at the mudflats under Northern Gate Bridge. At that time, we will send someone down to 'rescue' you, retrieve your clothing as a keepsake, and then contact your family to inform them of your death. Please confirm, and we’ll begin the preparations."

"No problem." Nicole nodded and transferred a sum of money.

She recalled something Tristan Ford had once told her:

“Nicky, I want to spend my whole life with you. Unless death separates us, I’ll search the ends of the earth to find you.”

Fine, then she would die, so he could never find her.

After booking the post-mortem service, Nicole immediately headed to a hotel.

"Are you canceling the wedding anniversary banquet scheduled with Mr. Ford in seven days?"

Nicole glanced at a couple holding a wedding ceremony on the lawn and nodded. "Yes, cancel it."

"But this venue was booked by Mr. Ford three years ago. He said it was your favorite and asked us to reserve it. If you cancel, you’ll have to wait until next year to rebook."

The staff seemed puzzled. Tristan had reserved this spot for three years without ever mentioning a cancellation. Why the sudden change this year? Weren’t Tristan and Nicole known as the ideal couple?

"Please cancel it. I won’t be needing it."

"Alright, we’ll cancel it for you. About the fees—"

"No need for a refund."

As Nicole turned to leave, she overheard people nearby talking.

"My goodness, how romantic! If I ever get married, I want to hold my wedding here!"

"You think just anyone can afford a wedding here? It’s outrageously expensive! Do you know about Nicole Snow and Tristan Ford? I heard they celebrate every wedding anniversary here!"

"Of course, I know! Mr. Ford truly loves Nicole. If only I could marry a CEO like that in my next life…"

"Keep dreaming! You know, Nicole loves Mr. Ford deeply too. I even heard she donated part of her liver for him!"

Hearing this, Nicole laughed bitterly.

Over the years, Tristan’s acting had been impeccable—so perfect that the whole world believed she was the love of his life.

But she knew exactly what he had done.

A few people noticed Nicole approaching and let out muffled gasps.

"It's Nicole Snow! Next month is her wedding anniversary with Tristan Ford. She must be here early to check the venue!"

"They're so in love! A love where both sides are equally devoted is what everyone dreams of."

Hearing the envious remarks from those around her, Nicole merely curled her lips into a faint, mocking smile.

In love?

Perhaps to outsiders, they did seem like a perfect couple.

But only Nicole knew that the so-called love had crumbled beyond repair two years ago.

After ten years with Tristan, surviving the so-called "seven-year itch" and eventually tying the knot, she truly believed they were destined to grow old together.

That belief shattered the moment she saw Tristan walk into a hotel room, passionately kissing a rising starlet, Lisa Evans.

She recognized the woman—a rising celebrity whose youth, beauty, and enviable physique had captured the public's attention.

Rumor had it that she was also exceptionally skilled in bed.

The thrill between Nicole and Tristan had faded with time. He was already seeking new excitement, while she had remained in place, clinging to the past.

But this time, she wouldn't hold on to their rotting love any longer.

When Nicole returned home, the deliveryman arrived with a package.

When she opened it, she discovered a painting by a renowned international artist—a portrait depicting the two of them together.

Nicole stared at the painting of the two of them, seemingly in love, and found it utterly laughable.

She grabbed a pair of scissors, cut her section of the portrait, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into the trash.

She casually rewrapped the remaining part of the painting and set it aside.

When Tristan returned, his eyes immediately landed on the package.

"Nicky, is that our painting? Let me take a look."

Nicole stopped him. "Wait until our anniversary to open it."

"Alright."

Tristan buried his face in her long hair, wrapping her tightly in his arms.

"Whatever you say, darling. I missed you so much after just one day of not seeing you.”

Nicole glanced down and noticed a new gold watch on Tristan's wrist.

"I thought you didn’t like gold and said it was tacky?"

Tristan stiffened slightly before letting go of her.

"No, I just decided it looked good, so I went ahead and got it."

"Is that so?"

Nicole smirked inwardly. Tristan didn’t just dislike gold, he despised it.

Yet here he was, wearing a gold watch.

There was only one explanation: the watch was a gift from his mistress.

"Yeah, I thought it wasn’t so bad after all.”

"Then let’s go to the store now. I’ll buy you a new one.”

Tristan held her close, hesitating.

"No need, Nicky. One is enough. I don’t have room to wear another."

Nicole’s gaze fell on the gold watch again.

Inside the band, she noticed an engraving: T & L.

The initials of Tristan and Lisa Evans.

A sharp pain pierced her heart as she reached out and pushed him away.

"You smell strange. Go take a shower."

"What? Smell strange?"

Tristan sniffed at himself. "I don’t smell anything."

Of course, he didn’t notice, but Nicole’s sharp sense of smell caught everything. The clinging, sickly-sweet scent of another woman after their heated encounter turned her stomach.

Nicole didn’t say another word, and Tristan leaned in again. "Alright, I’ll shower. Wait here for me, okay?"

Moments later, Tristan emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a black robe with his hair slightly damp. Under the soft light, he exuded his usual elegance and aloof charm.

Once, seeing him like this would have left Nicole completely captivated.

But tonight, she felt nothing but disgust.

"Nicky, did you miss me?" Tristan climbed onto the bed, leaning down to kiss her, but Nicole turned her head away.

"I'm tired."

"What's wrong? I've noticed you're less interested in me. Are you seeing another man?"

Looking at his overly serious expression, Nicole marveled at his acting skills.

"What about you? Are you seeing another woman?"

"I swear! Absolutely not. You’re the only one I love!" Tristan declared with utter conviction.

The moment he finished speaking, his phone rang.

It rang once. He didn’t answer. Then it rang several more times.

Nicole glanced at him. "Go ahead, answer it."

Tristan reluctantly got up and walked to the side to take the call.

"Didn’t I tell you not to call me after ten at night?"

"I just wrapped up a shoot—a historical drama! I want to see you. I’m at your office now. Can you come over?"

Tristan glanced at Nicole lying on the bed, hesitating for a moment.

The truth was, his desires were getting the better of him. With Nicole growing distant and turning him away, the thought of Lisa’s eager advances made the choice all too easy.

"Alright, I’ll come right away. Wait for me, sweetheart."

He quickly hung up, walked to the wardrobe, and began changing clothes.

"So late, and you’re still going out?" Nicole’s voice was calm, though she already knew who had called. She just hadn’t expected him to actually leave for Lisa, even at this hour.

"Yeah, something came up at the office. I’ll head over; you get some rest."

Tristan gave her a quick kiss and turned to leave, but Nicole grabbed his arm.

"I’ll go with you."

Tristan froze. "Aren’t you tired? Just rest here."

"I don’t want you working so hard alone. I’ll keep you company."

Without giving him a chance to refuse, Nicole changed into fresh clothes. Tristan had no choice but to quickly send a message to the company group chat, instructing some of the senior executives to return for a meeting.

By the time they arrived, the conference room was already filled with people.

Tristan, looking slightly apologetic, guided Nicole to a nearby lounge. "You rest here for a bit. I’ll come find you when I’m done."

"Alright."

Nicole sat down, a faint smirk playing on her lips. She hadn’t expected Tristan to go so far with his act—he’d even summoned all the senior staff for a real meeting.

After sitting in the lounge for a while, Nicole started to feel drowsy. She turned off the lights, hoping to catch some rest. Just then, a few people walked over to the water cooler nearby.

"Life’s really getting sweeter, isn’t it?" one of them remarked.

"Right? A little overtime at the office, and we walk away with a thousand bucks in hush money. Mr. Ford’s really getting generous."

"All this just to keep Nicole Snow in the dark while he fools around with that starlet? Why not just get a divorce?"

"Watch what you’re saying! Mr. Ford made it clear that Miss Snow must never find out about his affairs. Don’t get reckless. Besides, what’s wrong with us getting paid? It’s been two years, and I’ve made quite a bit from this."

Their conversation ended as they walked away, leaving Nicole trembling on the sofa.

So, everyone in the company knew. They all knew Tristan was seeing another woman.

Everyone, except her. For two years, she’d been the only fool left in the dark.

Rising in the darkness, Nicole felt like a ghost as she shuffled toward the conference room.

The room was empty—everyone had already left. They must have assumed she’d fallen asleep and wouldn’t come looking, so they all cleared out.

But the projector was still on, and so were the lights.

Nicole had planned to seek Tristan. But just as she was about to leave, the projector buzzed softly, and a message popped up on the screen.

"Where did you go? Come back quickly. I want more."

"So needy? Didn’t I just satisfy you? I'm in the restroom. I’ll be quick."

"I can’t help it, I miss you. I can’t go a second without you. How about I wear that camisole again? I know how much you love it."

"You little tease. I’ll make it worth your while. Nicole’s asleep anyway. I’ll be back soon and make you beg for more."

Their messages flashed across the screen, forcing their filth into her vision.

The vulgar words made her stomach churn.

Nicole couldn’t believe it. How could the man she had loved for ten years stoop so low?

She remembered the first time he’d been intimate with her. He’d only kissed her gently, and his face had turned red all the way to his neck.

The moment he removed her clothes, Tristan trembled slightly.

Under the dim yellow light, he stroked her cheek, his voice thick with emotion.

"Nicky, I love you so much. I finally have you. It feels like a dream."

And yet, in just two short years, Lisa had completely transformed him into this.

The most infuriating part? He never behaved like this at home.

Rage swelled in Nicole’s heart as her nails dug into her palms. The sharp pain was unmistakable, yet she hardly noticed.

She walked to the office door, peering through the slats of the blinds. Inside, two undressed bodies entwined, their movements frantic and unrestrained.

They were on the desk, papers and objects scattered across the floor, neither of them caring. Lost in their passion, they continued as if the world outside didn’t exist.

Watching the scene unfold with her own eyes, Nicole couldn’t stop herself. She fled to the restroom and vomited violently.

She had no idea how long she stayed there, retching until her emotions began to settle.

By the time she emerged, Tristan and Lisa had finished.

Tristan’s hair was disheveled, his face flushed—undeniable signs of what had just occurred.

The moment he saw Nicole, he panicked.

"Where did you go? I couldn’t find you, and I was so worried!"

"Worried about me?"

Nicole’s gaze landed on the love marks on his neck. With a cold laugh, she said, "Worried about what? That I might wander off and see something I shouldn’t?"

Tristan’s expression shifted instantly. He quickly shook his head. "What are you talking about? There’s nothing for you to see. I just finished a meeting, and I’m exhausted. Let’s go back to bed."

"Weren’t you in the mood for intimacy earlier? Let’s go to your office."

Nicole grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the office.

Tristan froze, fear flashing across his face.

"No, not tonight. I’m exhausted. If you want, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, okay? I’m really too tired today."

Tristan was still pretending.

Nicole’s hand twitched, itching to slap him across the face.

But in the end, the slap never landed. She forced herself to swallow the searing pain in her heart and nodded stiffly.

"Fine. Let’s go back."

It didn’t matter anymore. None of it mattered to her now.