Henley never came back that night. Instead, Joanna received a message from him.

Henley: [The prosecutors contacted me for an urgent autopsy. I won't be home tonight.]

Henley was a renowned name in his field. Whenever a tricky case arose, people sought his expertise first. Assisting law enforcement was nothing out of the ordinary.

Not long after, there was a knock at the door.

It was a food delivery—a halibut fish stew.

Joanna immediately recognized the restaurant. It was one of their favorites, a place where they often dined together.

The delivery guy, a young man with a bright, cheerful smile, explained, "Your husband asked me to apologize on his behalf. Since he couldn't come home to cook for you, he specially ordered this fish stew for you. He said he'd make it up to you next time."

He added with genuine admiration, "Wow, your husband treats you so well!"

"Does he?" Joanna didn't take the food. Instead, she signed the receipt and handed it back. "I'm not going to eat it. If you don't mind, feel free to take it home for yourself."

That night, Joanna didn't eat a single bite. She sat alone on the couch, staring into the darkness as the hours dragged on until dawn.

When she finally stirred, she found herself sprawled on the floor near the window.

The rain from the night before had left droplets on the sill, pooling into tiny streams.

One of those rivulets had trickled into her open hand, cold and damp.

It seemed she'd passed out from the pain again.

This wasn't the first time.

Late-stage pancreatic cancer brought relentless, piercing, soul-crushing pain. Sometimes, it became so unbearable that the thought of ending it all felt like the only reprieve.

Judging by her position, last night must have been one of those moments. She must have crawled toward the window, considering the jump, but ultimately collapsed before she could act.

With shaky limbs, Joanna propped herself up, realizing her sleeves were soaked and clinging to her skin in an uncomfortably clammy way.

The sensation reminded her of being gnawed by unseen insects, but she couldn't be bothered to care.

Her hands fumbled across the table until she found a bottle of pills.

Without glancing at the label, she poured a handful into her palm and swallowed them dry, tossing the bottle into the trash.

What the pills were didn't matter. How many she took didn’t matter. None of it mattered anymore.

Her phone rang.

She answered, and a young, energetic voice came through. "Professor Noe, the consent forms for your body donation are ready. When you're available, could you come by to finalize the paperwork?"

Joanna agreed.

The worst of the night's agony had passed, and the medication dulled her senses enough for her to function.

She took a taxi and arrived at the hospital shortly thereafter.

The process of donating her body to science wasn't particularly complicated—except for one critical step.

Joanna's student said hesitantly, "Professor Noe… you know that for a body donation, we need a family member's signature. There's only six days left... Professor Zeal..."

"I'll handle him," Joanna replied, slipping the consent forms into her bag.

As she stepped out of the office, she came face-to-face with Henley.

Standing beside him, looking bashfully pleased, was Addison.

The moment their eyes met, Addison shot Joanna a sly, triumphant glance.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Zeal," she greeted with a falsely sweet tone.

Then, almost as if by accident, she adjusted her collar to reveal faint marks on her neck, clear evidence of intimacy.

She mouthed silently, "Do you know how many times he had me last night?"

Henley, in an instant, stepped away from Addison. He put noticeable distance between them and schooled his expression into the distant professionalism he typically displayed, allowing warmth only when he addressed Joanna.

"Ah, Joanna, what are you doing here?" His tone was light, casual—but there was a flicker of panic beneath the surface.

Joanna's gaze flicked briefly to his subconsciously rubbing left hand.

"To find the two of you, of course," she answered.

Henley's face turned ashen as he stuttered, "Joanna... w-what are you talking about?"

Joanna looked at him, then glanced at Addison. "Why? Shouldn't the two of you give me an explanation?"

The hallway was bustling with people. Their colleagues were beginning to speculate as the three of them stood in the center of the corridor.

Curious stares unnerved Henley, and he tried to tug at Joanna's arm, only to be flung away.

"Joanna…" he called out.

Joanna ignored him, moving to stand in front of Addison. Her cold, piercing stare made Addison instinctively shrink back, her earlier bravado faltering.

Gripped by growing terror, Henley reached out to grab Joanna's hand again. Once more, she shook him off effortlessly.

For a fleeting moment, his heart stopped. His mind raced with frantic thoughts of what Joanna might say—or worse, what she might do.

Then, suddenly, Joanna chuckled. She turned and smiled faintly at him.

"Why so nervous?" she asked, her tone light, almost teasing. "I was talking about the project, of course."

She wiped the sweat from his brow gently. "What else did you think I was going to say?"

Relief washed over Henley like a tidal wave.

The research project was something he had recently arranged to boost Addison's profile, listing Joanna as a secondary advisor to increase its influence and scope. He had done all this because Addison's father had helped him in the past.

The approval of the research proposal was supposed to be announced today.

"Oh, has the proposal been approved?" Henley asked, relieved, while subtly signaling for Addison to leave.

Having never been dismissed in public, Addison looked wronged, tears brimming in her eyes.

Nonetheless, Henley felt no sympathy.

As she left, her resentment was palpable, though she could only discreetly glare at Joanna before walking away.

Joanna was taken into a lab after that. It was quiet, as the lab was nearly empty with lunchtime approaching.

She produced a stack of documents from her bag, saying, "They didn't manage to contact you, so they called me. I have all the documents printed and ready for your signature."

Henley had started the project specifically for Addison. He'd only added Joanna's name to the advisor list without intending for her to be directly involved, just to facilitate the approval. He hadn't expected the documents to be sent to her directly.

A pang of guilt settled in as he looked at the documents, gripping his pen awkwardly.

Joanna wasn't in a hurry. She settled into a nearby chair and watched Henley go through the documents, signing each one carefully—a habit of his, always serious and responsible no matter what he was doing.

The room was silent except for the sound of rustling pages and a soft breeze from the open window.

"I heard Zachary's wife is divorcing him," Joanna said casually, breaking the silence.

Henley froze mid-turn of a page. "W-What?"

"You didn't know? Apparently, he cheated—with one of his students, no less," Joanna replied, leaning back in her chair as if she were just chatting.

Henley's hand trembled around the pen, his face going pale. "Why are you suddenly interested in gossip?"

Joanna's tone remained light, but her gaze was unrelenting. "The rumor's everywhere. And I've had some time on my hands lately. I guess I've just been paying attention."

She let her words hang in the air before adding, "It's shocking, isn't it? Knowing someone for years, only to realize they're capable of something like that."

She glanced at Henley, then remarked, "Why did you stop signing?"

As if triggered, Henley quickly resumed signing the documents, but all he could think about were Joanna's words. His heart pounded violently, as though it might burst.

Why was Joanna bringing this up? Did she know something? What should he do if she did?

Then again, it seemed impossible.

Time passed in oppressive silence.

Finally, Joanna chuckled. "I'm just glad I married you. My Henley would never betray me, right?"

Henley finished the last signature almost by force.

As he put the pen down, relief washed over him—but guilt lingered. He forced himself to meet her eyes and nodded firmly.

"Of course not. I would never betray you," he said. "If I ever did... let me die a miserable death!"

Henley kissed Joanna's forehead gently before sending her off at the medical school gate.

"Be careful on your way home," he reminded her gently.

A few passing students cast envious glances their way.

"You're the university's famous heartthrob professor." Joanna shyly pushed him back, discreetly ending the kiss. "This kind of public display isn't ideal."

"I don't care," Henley said firmly. "I just want the whole world to know you're the one I love most."

Though Joanna's demeanor remained as composed as ever, Henley couldn't shake the gnawing unease that crept into his heart. It was this persistent feeling that made him express his affection so frequently, as though doing so could ease the turbulence in his heart.

At his insistence, Joanna agreed to have lunch with him.

Late-stage pancreatic cancer had nearly stolen her appetite, but she forced herself to eat so Henley wouldn't suspect anything was wrong.

During lunch, he brought up her missing wedding ring again.

In less than a day, the telltale mark on Joanna's ring finger had vanished, as though the ring had never existed. The absence only deepened Henley's growing anxiety.

"I made that ring with my own hands," he said quietly. "If it's broken, let me fix it."

"That's not necessary," Joanna replied, dabbing her lips with a napkin.

Her tone remained calm, almost indifferent. "You're already swamped, juggling responsibilities at the university and surgeries at the hospital. Don't add more to your plate."

She paused, then added casually, "Besides, isn't the research project's final report due next week? Without your help, Addison won't be able to finish it on her own."

Her gaze flickered toward Henley, watching his reaction closely.

As she expected, the mention of Addison made his composed expression falter, betraying a flicker of agitation.

Seizing the moment, Joanna added lightly, "You shouldn't be so hard on your students all the time. As a mentor, it's only right to help when they're struggling."

Henley's gaze turned evasive. He stopped pressing the issue and merely reminded her, "Just remember to retrieve the ring once it's repaired."

After finally seeing Henley off, Joanna went to a shopping mall alone. She spent the afternoon in the electronics section before settling on a video recorder and a memory card.

As she got into the car, her phone buzzed with an incoming call. It was Addison.

She hesitated for a moment before answering.

There was no immediate response on the other end—just muffled, indistinguishable sounds.

Assuming it was a bad connection, Joanna turned up the volume, accidentally routing the call through her car's Bluetooth system.

Suddenly, the strange sounds amplified, filling the car with unmistakable noises—frantic gasps, the rhythmic thud of bodies colliding, and a woman's moans of ecstasy.

Then Addison's voice followed, sultry and demanding."Henley, honey... tell me I'm the one you love the most! If you don't, I won't let you finish!"

Henley's strained, hoarse voice followed, as though he were struggling to suppress his desire. "No! The one I love most is Joanna! I can never lose her!"

Addison's tone turned petulant, tinged with tears. "Then why are you with me? If you love her so much, go be with her! Stop coming to me!"

There was a shuffling sound before Henley let out a deep, weary sigh. "Don't be like this, babe. You know I care about you too. It's just... every time I look at Joanna, I can't help thinking about the past. It's suffocating. Only with you can I feel truly relaxed and free."

He then said, his voice almost breaking, "I love Joanna, but I'll never be able to live without you."