Claire threw her arms around me, overjoyed.

She cried out, "Thank goodness, Louis. You're finally awake! If you didn't make it, I wouldn't want to live either. I don't care that my legs are paralyzed. As long as I could save you, nothing else matters."

In the face of disaster, people were usually selfish, yet Claire had sacrificed her legs for me, and the media praised her selfless true love endlessly.

Later, to inspire hope and prove that love still existed in the world, Claire was even chosen as one of the winners for that year's National Inspiration Awards.

Everyone was waiting for our happy ending. The media ran our stories daily, hoping we would get married. The whole country wanted to see the lovers end up together, and they wanted to see me show gratitude for Claire's sacrifice and return her devotion.

Even my own parents said that if I betrayed Claire, they would disown me.

Under everyone's expectations, I married Claire. However, three months into the marriage, Claire's true colors started showing.

When our neighbor from downstairs gave us some fish her husband had bought, Claire poured scalding fish stew over my head.

If I took out the trash for a neighbor once, she would smash every piece of furniture in the house.

She said she felt insecure, that seeing other people give me things hurt her feelings. She said seeing me help other women made her jealous, and that she was just terrified of losing me.

I tolerated her insecurity in our marriage, blaming it all on the earthquake. If she had not lost her legs, maybe she would not be like that.

However, she became worse and worse.

Finally, one night, she came at me with a needle aimed at my groin. "If you can't perform anymore, you won't be able to go after other women."

I endured the pain in my lower body as I realized with horror that the woman in front of me was insane.

After I got back from the hospital, I asked for a divorce.

What Claire was doing to me was domestic violence.

For men and women alike, domestic violence would never be a one-time thing. It would be either zero or endless.

However, my family and neighbors tried to talk me out of it, and the local women's rights group criticized me. Even the doctor who examined my injuries barely glanced at me and said it did not even count as minor harm.

I went to the court to file for divorce, but the clerk kept saying the printer was broken or that the network was down.

My parents stood before the media, tears streaming down their faces.

They said, "We failed to raise our son right. We won't let him go through with this divorce. Claire is such a wonderful girl."

Because of Claire, they had a daughter-in-law who was a nationally honored hero, and Dad walked tall at work. My younger brother, Ryan Sterling, even found himself a girlfriend from a well-off family.

Over the years, I had tried to divorce her countless times, but I never succeeded.

Perhaps it was because she knew I would never be able to leave her.

One night while I was asleep, she tried to castrate me again. I was terrified and tried to run. However, she got to the door first and locked it.

In the darkness, I stared at her perfectly fine legs.

She held up a knife, cackling. "Honey, where do you think you're going? Once you're broken, you'll be mine forever."

She did not castrate me that night, but the incident left me traumatized.

That was also the night I learned the truth that Claire had been faking it all along. She said she did it because she loved me, because she was afraid I would break up with her.

Claire's heroic act of saving me was already etched in everyone's minds. If I told everyone that she was not actually paralyzed, no one would believe me.

I had bought a pack of rat poison that day. Since I could not leave her, I would just take her with me.

However, an opportunity had presented itself.

I glanced casually at the hidden camera.

I had heard it was being livestreamed to the entire internet. As long as Claire stood up in front of all those viewers, I could finally get my divorce.

It was never hard to provoke Claire.

If the water I gave her was not exactly the temperature she wanted, she would throw the cup right at me.

So, I deliberately poured a cup of boiling water, and steam was rolling off the top.

I said, "Honey, here's some water."

I knew the camera was recording, but every time I faced Claire, I could not help feeling terrified.

"Thanks, honey."

She smiled as she reached for the cup, even though it was obviously scalding hot. However, I did not hand it to her.

Gritting my teeth, I pretended to lose my grip and spilled the boiling water all over her legs. I figured she would not be able to hold back and jump up in rage.

I closed my eyes and silently counted, 'One, two, three...'

Time passed, yet I did not feel the familiar fists crashing down on me.

I opened my eyes and saw that Claire had not moved. Instead, she was still sitting perfectly upright in her wheelchair.

Not only was she not angry at me, but she looked at me apologetically. "I'm so sorry, honey... I didn't catch it properly and spilled the water. Honey, did you burn your hand? That water looked really hot."

Her soft expression overlapped with the memory of her madness in my mind.

The last time I had simply poured her a glass of water that was not exactly the 55 degrees she demanded, she had gone insane and tried to hack me with a kitchen knife.

I stood there, frozen.

Meanwhile, the live comments were flying across the screen.

[Isn't this abuse? That water was hot enough to cook a steak!]

[Even if Claire can't feel her legs, you can't just do that to her.]

[He must be tired of taking care of her, so now he's taking it out on her.]

[If that's how he feels, he shouldn't have married her. He wanted to have a good reputation, and now he's abusing her.]

I could not help but wonder why Claire was acting so strangely that day.

Had she somehow found out about the interview and was deliberately putting on an act?

I immediately dismissed that thought.

When I met with Holly Lopez, the reporter, she had promised not to announce it online beforehand. Hence, Claire could not possibly know.

Perhaps it was just a coincidence.

My voice came out hoarse as I said, "I'll get you another cup."

It was fine. There would be plenty more opportunities.

I keep reassuring myself that Claire was volatile and quick to anger, so provoking her was easy.

Throughout the day, I either deliberately mopped and waxed the floor so it would tip over her wheelchair, or removed the toilet paper from the bathroom and pretended not to hear when she called for me.

I even went out of my way to go downstairs to find our female neighbor and gave her the fresh flowers I had just bought.

Despite all that, Claire kept that same warm smile.

I was getting desperate, and that anxiety reached its peak at dinnertime.

So, I decided to take a risky move.

Claire had always been severely allergic to shellfish, so I deliberately made shrimp alfredo for dinner.

When red hives spread across her face and her breathing grew strained, I panicked. I was afraid she might actually die, and the police would charge me with murder, so I quickly fed her allergy medication.

The comments were ruthless.

[From scalding hot water to serving food that triggers her allergy, no one's buying that he's innocent. Authorities seriously need to investigate him!]

[Claire really loves him so much. What more could he possibly want?]

[He's definitely cheating on her. Who randomly brings flowers to the neighbor? Claire can't satisfy him, so he's pursuing other women.]

[Good thing the network decided to do hidden cameras. At least we can see the truth.]

...

As I was washing dishes in the kitchen after dinner, I replayed everything that had happened today over and over in my mind.

Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed through my waist.

Claire had stuck a long, thin acupuncture needle into my side.

I frantically escaped to a spot where the camera could clearly capture everything. I looked at Claire's crazed expression. Even though I was in pain, I could not help being elated because she was finally exposing herself.

Late that night, after Claire fell asleep, I snuck into the stairwell and contacted Holly.

"Holly, it's me."

The woman on the other end responded coldly, sounding somewhat annoyed.

I gripped my phone, almost ready to cry. "Holly, did you see today's livestream?"

After three years, I had finally seen hope.

Holly scoffed. "Of course, I saw it. Louis, you abused your wife, your savior. Aren't you afraid of karma?"

My heart skipped a beat, and I asked, "Didn't you watch tonight's livestream?"

She answered impatiently, "Even with hidden cameras, we still respect privacy. It automatically cuts off after nine at night."

A wave of endless disappointment crashed over me, and I could barely hear Holly's next sentence.

"I suggest you treat your wife better. You're already being dragged all over the internet. If this keeps up, I'm afraid you'll get beaten up just walking outside."

With that, she hung up.

The spot on my waist where Claire had stabbed me earlier now throbbed with intensifying pain.

I bent over, unable to stand straight. Then, I searched for that day's news coverage, scrolling through article after article.

The livestream had been screenshot and turned into countless videos.

The footage of me splashing hot water on Claire, the video of me giving flowers to the neighbor downstairs, and even the scene where I deliberately cooked something she was allergic to and pressured her to eat it.

Below the videos were nothing but comments cursing me out.

[What an animal! Has he forgotten who he owes his life to?]

[It seems that when some debts are too much of a burden, it ends with hands around your throat.]

[I'm suddenly terrified of marriage. Either you get killed before the wedding or after. Sooner or later, a man will destroy you.]

[Even through the screen, I feel suffocated. Marriage is a gamble. If you face abuse like this, you need to use the law to protect yourself.]

[Can this jerk just drop dead? I'm so angry!]

[Ungrateful piece of trash. Without Claire, he'd be long dead by now!]

I had heard all of those things countless times before. Then again, if it were not for Claire, I never would have been trapped under that rubble in the first place.

Over the years, because of Claire's tantrums, I had lost my job, my friends, and any semblance of my own life. Whenever I did anything that slightly displeased her, she would call the police and claim that I was trying to kill her.

I numbly scrolled through the videos, until one particular video caught my eye.

In that instant, I understood why Claire had been acting so strange that day.

The next morning, the livestream started up again.

Claire had transformed back into that gentle wife. She thoughtfully prepared breakfast for me and attentively watched my every move.

[Wow, she's such an amazing woman. If her legs weren't injured, I'd totally want to marry her.]

[I hope this man realizes that the woman who loves him most is already right beside him.]

The comments were filled with nothing but praise for what a good woman Claire was.

I watched her struggle to push her wheelchair toward the kitchen and followed behind her. Then, I picked up the knife I had been sharpening all night, making sure everyone could see.

I stood behind Claire, aimed at her neck, and raised the knife.

The comments went crazy.

[Holy shit! What am I seeing?!]

[This has to be edited, right?]

[What is going on? Am I hallucinating?]