When I divorced Helena Rhodes, we were both calm.
She gently asked what I wanted.
Without hesitation, I answered,
“The car, the house, the savings.
And half of the company shares.”
Helena paused, slightly surprised.
“What about the children? You don’t want them?
You love them so much—how can you abandon Emma Young and Lily Young?”
I looked at the scars on my wrists from countless self-inflicted wounds and quietly shook my head.
I didn’t want them anymore.
From now on, aside from money, anything tied to Helena—
I wanted none of it.
——
Seeing my coldness, she seemed to want to speak, but after a pause, she silently signed the divorce papers.
As we parted, she said politely,
“I can’t give you the shares, but you’ll always be the father of our children.
If you ever face trouble, come to me.”
I nodded.
But as I turned away, I threw the business card she handed me into the trash.
Even to death, I never want to see Helena again.
When I got home, I told the housekeeper to pack her things and throw them out.
The housekeeper didn’t mind and joked,
“Sir, did you quarrel again? Don’t give up your position over anger.
Madam still cares for you.”
All the suffering and humiliation I’d endured—Margaret Ward had seen it all.
She knew how deeply I loved Helena,
and how many times I’d broken down because of her betrayal.
She, like Helena, believed I’d never truly leave.
But this time, I didn’t cry or beg.
I took down the wedding photo, my voice calm and detached.
“My mother passed away.”
Margaret froze, her smile vanishing.
She stammered an apology.
I only smiled, saying nothing, and smashed the photo frame to pieces.
Startled, she hurried to clean up, treating the cut on my hand.
She murmured, “Divorce—good riddance!
We’re top students from Harvard University and Yale University; we’ll live fine without her.
Good child, we won’t suffer anymore.”
I bowed my head, trying not to cry.
But tears still fell—filled with regret, sorrow, and faint relief.
After ten years of torment,
the so-called fairytale of a princess and her knight had finally ended.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was the ending we expected.
At eighteen, I entered Harvard University with the county’s highest score.
That same year, I met Helena—back to invest in her alma mater.
Every story begins beautifully; ours was no different.
She fell for me at first sight.
After her lecture, she pursued me relentlessly—
waiting after class with Bubble tea and flowers,
sending money to my roommates to learn my schedule,
remembering every detail about me,
and confessing her love beneath a sea of blossoms.
At that time, everyone believed we would never end up together.
They thought an ugly duckling like me, born in a small town, could never deserve someone like Helena.
But she didn’t care—she only wanted to be with me.
She endured all the pressure and proposed herself, shielding our love from malice.
Under her protection, my once harsh and poor life suddenly became easy.
Flowers, jewelry, guaranteed grad school admission, study abroad—
everything was handed to me.
I didn’t need to ask for anything.
As a naïve, idealistic teenager prone to dreaming,
I quickly fell for Helena’s relentless pursuit.
I gave up my future and married her.
Dating, marriage, pregnancy, childbirth—
everything followed naturally.
Back then, life seemed effortless.
Everything I wanted was within reach.
I was lost in love’s sweetness—
unaware that every gift from fate carries a hidden price.
The day Emma was born,
Eleanor Rhodes appeared for the first time and took my baby away.
Her face was polite, her tone cold and arrogant.
“Emma is the future heir of the Rhodes family—of noble status.
With your upbringing and limited education, you’re unfit to raise this child.”
My own flesh and blood, the child I’d longed for—
and I wasn’t even allowed to hold him.
Even seeing him required permission.
I begged Helena not to be so cruel, not to take my child.
She looked at me strangely.
“My mother’s right—you’re from the countryside.
She said I can be willful, but only she decides anything about the child.”
I nearly collapsed in tears.
But Helena ignored me, hugged my waist, and kissed me lightly.
“Alright, alright, don’t cry,” she said with a faint smile.
“If you love kids that much, we can have another.”
I couldn’t refuse.
But when she saw the gray strands I’d grown from caring for her,
a flicker of conflict and disgust flashed in her eyes.
After hesitating, she only said coldly,
“You’ve had a long day—rest.”
Her indifference hit me like lightning, shattering my dream.
I remembered Eleanor’s scorn and everyone’s ridicule.
Suddenly, I understood—
this so-called love was nothing but a spoiled princess’s whim.
Fate had once gifted me everything—
now, it demanded repayment.
The child was only the beginning.
Helena’s coldness caused my status in the Rhodes family to plummet.
The hostility around me pushed me into deep depression.
I lay awake every night, unable to sleep.
I called her, but she never answered.
I texted her, but got no reply.
I feared something had happened to her.
But the next morning, news broke—she had cheated.
Her photos with a minor celebrity spread everywhere.
People online mocked me, wondering when the rich family’s son-in-law would be thrown out.
The gossip and laughter crushed my final illusion.
I couldn’t accept it.
My condition worsened.
I had the fiercest argument of my life with Helena.
In a complete breakdown, I tried to harm myself with a knife.
I even threatened to jump off the building in front of her.
At the last second, she rushed over, trembling as she hugged me and apologized.
Like every unfaithful woman, she cried and said she was wrong.
She claimed it was all a misunderstanding.
She said she still loved me and begged for another chance.
That night, she knelt before me, tears streaming down her face.
“Samuel Young, please forgive me just this once.”
I made the second mistake of my life.
I chose to forgive her.
Because of our child.
Because of a love I couldn’t let go of. Because my mother’s car accident left me with no home to return to.
So, Helena and I reconciled.
Soon after, we had another child, Lily.
Like Emma, she was taken away right after birth.
The excuse was that Helena needed to focus on work and couldn’t stand a baby’s crying.
To see my children even once,
I had to go to the old house before dawn and observe every formality.
Serving tea and water, massaging shoulders, kneeling to wash Eleanor’s feet—
just to earn a glance at my children.
But all my effort earned me nothing but
Helena’s open betrayal
and my children’s deep resentment.
Emma never called me “Dad.”
Whenever she saw me, she frowned and said,
“That stupid country bumpkin is here again. I don’t want to see him.”
Lily couldn’t speak yet—
she only cried and reached for her grandmother.
My mother’s condition worsened.
The children’s coldness and the weight of life left me broken and hollow.
When I needed support most,
Helena started a new family with another man.
That day was our wedding anniversary.
Emma refused my invitation.
Helena hung up on me.
Her lover, instead, sent me a video of them in bed.
Hearing their voices, I completely shattered.
I lost control, grabbed a knife, and slashed my arm.
When Margaret rushed in, I was bleeding out.
She called Helena in panic.
But she didn’t return until dawn.
She knelt beside me, smiling as she stared at my mutilated arm.
“Weren’t you going to die?”
“A whole night has passed—why are you still like a dog, refusing to leave the Rhodes family?”
Those words shattered what was left of my sanity.
Without thinking, I jumped from the balcony.
I didn’t die.
Only broke my leg.
Eleanor dismissed the reporters and dragged me to my mother’s hospital room.
She looked down coldly and said,
“The ICU costs twenty thousand a day.”
“If you disgrace the Rhodes family again, I’ll make sure your mother dies with you.”
That was when I realized—
death was a luxury.
I couldn’t let go of love or blood ties.
I could only endure humiliation in this hollow marriage.
Watching my children drift further away.
Watching Helena flirt with one gigolo after another.
Watching them use my mother to control my life.
Marriage into wealth was both sweet bliss—
and a painful chain.
