Those vague red marks, like a heavy axe, split us completely in two.

Panicked and ashamed, Claire hurried to button up her shirt.

She opened her mouth to explain—but suddenly went silent.

Her eyes landed on the family portrait of the four of us. She shoved me away and sneered,

"What right do you have to ask for a divorce?"

"Who else but me would want a piece of trash like you—the man who killed his own son?"

Her words struck like lightning.

That unspoken, festering wound tore open again.

It bled.

I stood frozen, too stunned and hurt to reply.

A cruel, satisfied smile curled on Claire’s lips.

I called her a bitch as she slammed the door and walked out.

And I collapsed, sobbing on the floor.

Until a small voice snapped me out of my daze.

My daughter, Lily Grant, held her little rabbit, staring at me with frightened eyes.

“Daddy, did you and Mommy fight?”

“Will you separate? Will Mommy come back?”

Seeing the fear on her face, my heart twisted in pain.

I gently pulled Lily into a hug. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Go back to sleep now. I’ll take you to school in the morning.”

But Lily shook her head, her eyes fixed nervously on my phone.

After hesitating, she tugged softly at my sleeve.

“Daddy, I’ve seen that uncle before. A long time ago… on the day my brother died…”

“What did you say?”

My breath caught. My eyes widened in shock.

“Lily, do you know something? Tell Daddy what happened that day!”

Lily stepped back, her small eyes full of fear.

Then she burst into tears and rushed into my arms, crying,

“That day, Mommy brought that uncle home.”

“She said she wanted to play a game with him and told us not to disturb them. He gave us chocolate—those with alcohol inside—and locked us in the room.”

“After my brother ate it, he started crying and suddenly fell down and didn’t move anymore.”

“I got scared and banged on the door, yelling for Mommy. But she was busy playing with him and wouldn’t come, no matter how I cried.”

“Then… my brother was gone. Mommy said it was our secret and I must never tell. If I told, she’d lose me too…”

“Daddy, I’m sorry. I’m not a bad kid, I’m just scared…”

I stood there frozen, unsure how to move or breathe.

It felt like a blade twisting deep inside me.

Grace Grant’s death was the kind of pain that never fades—not for me, nor our two families.

Two years ago, I was rushed into an urgent client meeting.

To help secure a crucial deal for the company, I had no choice but to leave Grace with the nanny and drive off.

When I came back, the nanny was gone.

Only Lily remained, crying endlessly—and Grace, already stiff and cold.

The doctor said it was an allergic reaction to the alcohol in chocolate.

If she had been brought ten minutes earlier, she might have lived.

My mother collapsed from shock and died of a heart attack.

My mother-in-law turned all her fury on me.

She strangled and slapped me again and again.

She screamed in my face, calling me a murderer.

“You bastard! You left two little kids alone! Are you even human?”

"You knew Grace was allergic to alcohol, so why did you buy that liquor-filled chocolate? Was it intentional? Did you want my grandson dead?"

"You murderer! You need to pay for my grandson’s life!"

My mother-in-law’s relatives punched and kicked me like they meant to tear me apart.

Just then, Claire arrived. Without hesitation, she stepped in front of me, shielding me with her body as she faced the crowd.

“Grace’s death was an accident. Lucas Grant wasn’t at fault.”

“As long as I’m alive, no one will lay a hand on him.”

That day, to me, Claire looked like a towering protector.

She shielded me from blame, from violence, from collapse.

Later, she brought me to a psychologist.

She stayed with me through my slow, painful recovery from Grace’s death.

But those back-to-back tragedies left permanent scars.

I could no longer have a job or live like I used to.

I had nightmares of Grace dying. I constantly feared something terrible would happen to Lily.

Claire suggested I resign and take care of the kids full-time.

After a long struggle, I gave up the career I’d worked years to build and became a stay-at-home dad.

Thankfully, Lily was obedient and mature beyond her years.

Even though work kept Claire busy, she always showed me care and respect.

Through it all, I had regrets—but also gratitude for having such a partner.

We seemed like a relatively happy family.

Never did I expect that one day, Claire would use Grace’s death to wound me.

Nor could I have imagined it was her affair that caused our son’s death.

She placed the blame on me and trapped me in guilt.

She was the one who shattered our family and stole away my happiness.

So many blows had left me numb.

I closed my eyes, barely able to process the pain.

I gently patted Lily’s back, reassuring her there was nothing to fear.

I told her I would never blame her.

I told myself the same.

But Claire and Ethan had to pay.

I dropped Lily off at a trusted friend’s home, then drove to the law office.

While drafting the divorce papers, I asked the lawyer about Grace’s case.

He said too much time had passed. Without hard evidence, Claire couldn’t be prosecuted.

So, I could only seek justice in my own way.

I drove to Claire’s company with the divorce agreement in hand.

After so many years, I stepped into that familiar building once more.

Everything felt alien.

Before I could collect myself, the receptionist blocked me.

“Sorry, sir, you can’t enter without an appointment.”

“I’m Claire’s husband. I need to see her.”

The receptionist gave me a once-over, lips curled in mockery.

“Everyone here knows Secretary Cross is our boss’s boyfriend.”

I contacted my old colleagues and friends.

Only then did I learn that everyone close to me had been fired by Claire.

She trapped me in guilt at home—

while building a kingdom of wealth and power for herself and Ethan.

A wave of nausea rolled through me. Again and again.

I was about to call her when Ethan showed up, the stench of cologne wafting toward me.

He straightened his collar, gave me a meaningful look.

“You came to see Claire? We just... Never mind.”

“She’s resting. If you have something to say, say it to me.”

Ethan led me into his office.

Without hesitation, he said Claire was pregnant.

“She’s three months along. The doctor says it’s a boy.”

“Claire’s thrilled. She plans to divorce you before the baby arrives.”

I quietly turned on the recorder on my phone, capturing every word of his smug rambling.

Ethan told me everything.

He said Claire was never that busy—she just didn’t want to see me.

He said they’d been together for a long time. “On Valentine’s Day, when she claimed she was on a business trip? She actually took me to Bali. We bought souvenirs at the airport and waved goodbye to you.”

“Last year, when you got into that car accident, she said she was stuck at work, but really, she was just with me.”

“And last month, when you were hospitalized for appendicitis…”

Ethan grinned wider.

“She had the doctor give you double anesthesia—just so I wouldn’t have to wait alone.”

“While you were writhing in pain and passed out, we were having fun in the next room.”

“But none of that compares to what happened on the anniversary of your son’s death.”

“She didn’t even bother changing clothes before rushing to meet me. While we were making love, your son’s portrait was sitting right beside our bed…”

As I watched that smug expression twist his face, I couldn’t hold back anymore.

I grabbed the hot water from the table and flung it at him.

Before I even set the cup down, Claire burst in.

She shoved me away and cradled Ethan like he was some fragile treasure.

“Lucas, what are you doing? If you have a problem, take it out on me. Why are you bullying a kid?”

Rage burned through me like wildfire.

I stared at the woman in front of me—

The same woman who once shielded me, stood by me, and silenced every whisper.

Now she stood against me, defending her lover.

The pain had long since turned to numbness.

I wiped my wet hands dry, looked up at Claire, and said coldly:

“You clearly don’t understand what bullying really looks like.”

Then I grabbed Ethan by the hair and slammed his head against the marble tabletop.

I kicked Claire square in the crotch.

Before either of them could react,

I seized the fruit knife on the table and stepped toward their howls.