The day Ken Bowen and I finalized the divorce, I walked out wearing only the outfit I had worn on our wedding day.

I let Ken keep the house, the cars, the money, and the kids.

He looked genuinely surprised, then let out a mocking laugh.

"Are you sure about this? You raised the girls yourself, and you're just giving them up? If you really don't want anything, then you won't need to pay child support either. That's fair, right?"

I signed the papers without hesitation and said calmly, "Yeah. That's fair."

Ken paused, then slowly signed his name. "If you regret this later, you…"

I lifted a hand and cut him off. I didn't look back as I walked out.

Ken used to say I married him for money and status, that I used our three daughters to tie him down.

Whatever. The day he saw my dead body, he would finally understand.

I almost bolted out the door, as if I was running from something. To my surprise, Ken Bowen actually chased after me.

"Why are you in such a rush? It's cold out. You didn't even grab a proper coat."

He held out a fur coat. I shook my head and refused it. "No, thanks. You bought it with your money."

He froze for a few seconds, irritation and a hint of concern flashing in his eyes.

Normally, he would've snapped at me already. This time, his tone softened instead.

"I didn't finish what I was saying. If you regret this, you know where to find me."

Then he pressed something flat and cold into my palm.

"Your wish coin."

He deliberately squeezed my hand, as if everything was still under his control.

I closed my fingers around the wish coin, something I hadn't seen in years, and my emotions tangled into a mess.

When we first got married, he had 100 custom wish coins made, calling them rewards for me.

Back then, when things were good, I would get one every month and could trade it for a favor from him. Later, no matter how close I got to him or how hard I tried to please him, he stopped giving them to me.

For the past two years, I had kept trying like before, but I hadn't received a single coin.

I begged for one because I wanted to use it for a chance to be intimate with him.

He hadn't let me near him in a long time. Our relationship had gone cold little by little.

No matter what I did, Ken refused to give me a wish coin.

And now, right as we were divorcing, he handed me one like it was nothing.

It was almost funny.

Not long after I left, the house staff group chat blew up.

Several people tagged me at once.

[Mrs. Bowen, Ms. Carly is complaining about stomach pain. What medicine should we give her?]

[Mrs. Bowen, water spilled on Ms. Trista's piano. Do you have the manufacturer's customer service number?]

[Mrs. Bowen, does Ms. Queenie have an early learning class tomorrow?]

[Mrs. Bowen, Mr. Bowen went out drinking. How do you usually make his hangover soup?]

I sighed and patiently replied to each message.

At the end, I added one more line.

[Mr. Bowen and I are getting divorced. You'll need to handle these things from now on.]

I never put on airs at home, and I had always been close with the staff. Messages quickly came in, trying to talk me out of it.

[Couples fight sometimes. You and Mr. Bowen have three beautiful daughters. There's no need to go as far as divorce.]

[As long as you soften up and give in like you usually do, he won't hold it against you. Haven't things always worked out that way?]

They all thought this was like every other time, that if I lowered my head and compromised, Ken and I would make up again.

But this time was different.

I suddenly realized I didn't have a reason to keep loving him anymore.

[This time, it's real. Please take good care of the three girls from now on.]

The chat went quiet. After a while, someone finally replied.

[Mrs. Bowen, we've witnessed your love story from the very beginning. You two were inseparable. Why does it have to come to this?]

I gave a bitter smile.

Our marriage had already reached the point of no return.

Back when Ken was still struggling to get his business off the ground, he got targeted by rivals looking for payback.

That day was my first day out of college, my first day at work. I couldn't stand watching it happen. I called the police, hurled my backpack at the bad guys, and grabbed Ken before sprinting away.

Still, there were too many of them. Before the cops arrived, I took three knife wounds for him.

I was rushed to the hospital. Ken was hurt even worse, but he still stayed by my side and took care of me for a full month.

We were young, caught up in everything at once. We fell in love before we even realized it. When his startup finally took off, we got married.

Not long after, my eldest, Carly Bowen, was born. Ken was even more excited than I was. He kept saying he would give me and our child the best life possible.

He loved his career, so I stayed behind him, supporting his work and holding everything together at home.

People mocked me for getting married before I had even seen the real world, saying divorce would be my inevitable ending.

When Ken heard about it, he was furious. He cut those people off and even wanted to transfer all the family assets into my name.

Whenever he had time, he would rush home early to be with me and Carly. Even after Trista and Queenie were born, our relationship stayed just as close.

But two years ago, he started coming home later and later, constantly flying out of town for business.

Our relationship cooled fast.

I could feel it. Ken's heart had changed.

I secretly followed him a few times. Every time he claimed he was working late, he was actually with his first love, who had just come back from overseas.

Those so-called business trips were really vacations he took with her.

After digging deeper, I found out she was his business partner's younger sister. She had divorced her foreign husband and returned home to restart her career.

I had actually met Bianca Pena once, right after she came back. That day, I went to Ken's office to bring him lunch.

His stomach issues had flared up then, so I cooked light, easy-to-digest meals every day and brought them over myself.

Bianca was sitting in his office.

Ken introduced her casually. "This is my old friend, Bianca. She just got back from abroad. She'll be our executive director from now on."

I didn't think much of it. I had a lot of trust in Ken.

In the end, though, he betrayed both my trust and my feelings. Eight years of marriage couldn't stand up to the pull of his first love.

Our first explosive fight was because of Bianca.

That night was our wedding anniversary. Ken had promised to come home for dinner.

I cooked a full spread myself. Our three daughters wore their prettiest dresses and waited at the table. We waited until it was fully dark. Ken never came home.

I called him on video. He took a long time to answer, then snapped the moment he did.

"Why are you rushing me? It's just some dumb anniversary. What's there to celebrate? I told you I'm working late."

But his crooked shirt buttons and the lipstick mark on his neck gave him away.

I hung up and rushed straight to his office, catching the two of them together inside. I grabbed Bianca by the collar, my hand already swinging.

Ken caught my wrist and stopped me, his voice cold as he threatened me, "Linette, if you so much as touch a hair on Bianca's head, don't even think about seeing the three girls again. And you can figure out how to pay for your sister's surgery yourself."

With Bianca looking at me in open provocation and smug satisfaction, I swallowed the humiliation and pulled my hand back.

Our parents had passed early. My sister, Whitney Carline, was my only family.

All these years, Ken was the one making the money. If he refused to pay, there was no way I could afford Whitney's surgery.

After that, working late became his normal routine. When I demanded to know why, he looked at me with indifference and disgust.

"Because Bianca and I actually have things to talk about. She's smart and knowledgeable. You're just a housewife. Besides taking care of kids, what else can you do?"

What he forgot was that he had been the one who begged me to stop working and take care of the entire household.

After that night, I got seriously sick. I vomited blood and passed out in the middle of the night.

Ken was terrified. He pulled together the best medical team he could find to save me.

"Babe, as long as you get better, I'll do whatever you say. I'll be the best husband ever. I swear."

For a while after that, he really did rein himself in. Bianca left his company, too.

Life seemed to slip back into what it used to be. The three girls were thrilled their dad was home more often.

But that illusion was shattered a few days ago. I was on my way home from the hospital after taking care of Whitney when I ran into Ken. He was with all three girls and Bianca, eating at a newly opened trendy restaurant.

Through the huge glass window, I saw Ken and Bianca feeding each other using their mouths.

My three daughters sat across from them, giggling.

"Mom, Dad, you two are so embarrassing!"

It felt as if I had been struck by lightning. The three girls I had raised all by myself were calling another woman "Mom".

Suddenly, it started pouring. I couldn't remember how I made it home.

When the girls came back later and saw me soaked to the bone, they looked at me with open disdain.

"Why do some moms look so classy, while some are just embarrassing?"

They had said things like that before. I had thought they were talking about other parents at school.

Now, I finally understood. They were comparing me to Bianca. They liked her more.

That realization hurt worse than finding out Ken cheated. After all, these were the children I had raised myself.

I forced back my tears, my voice rough when I spoke, "I'm your real mother. If you're calling someone else Mom, then don't call me Mom anymore."

I clung to the last bit of hope and waited for their answer.

Carly shot me a look full of disgust. "You always pretend you're so tough. No wonder Dad doesn't like you."

Trista snorted. "Fine, we won't call you Mom. I don't even want to. We already have a new one."

Queenie was still young. She just echoed them. "If they don't call you Mom, then I won't either."

I stared at the three faces in front of me, all looking so much like Ken's, and let out a soft laugh.

I was soaked and shaking from the cold as I turned and went into the bathroom without another word.

After dropping the kids off, Ken left again. He had the staff pass along a message saying he would be working through the night.

I didn't even have the strength to call and question him anymore. That night, I vomited blood again and passed out.

Through the haze, I heard the staff panicking.

Someone was calling Ken. "Mr. Bowen, Mrs. Bowen collapsed again after vomiting blood. Please come home now!"

There was a pause on the other end.

Then, I heard Bianca's voice.

"Ken, hurry up. We haven't tried this new toy yet."

Ken snapped into the phone, impatient and sharp. "What is she pulling now? This is getting ridiculous. Don't bother with her. I want to see if she actually dies this time."

The staff sent me to the hospital anyway.

Ken didn't show up until early morning.

The red marks on his neck were impossible to miss, as if someone wanted them to be seen.

When he noticed my eyes fixed on his neck, he yanked the IV needle out of my hand.

"Linette, look at you, playing games now. You really think you can fool me? This doesn't make me feel sorry for you. It just makes me sick. Since you won't behave, I'm cutting off Whitney's medical care."

He pulled out his phone and called his assistant.

I panicked.