Tamara Winslow stands amid the crowd while clutching two different documents in her hand. One of them shows a diagnosis report on her alexithymia, while the other showcases a divorce agreement.

Three hours ago, she had specifically visited the Clerk's Office because the hospital's system had shown her marital status as "divorced".

The city clerk looks up at her. "Ma'am, it's true that you and Mr. Braxton Merrick got divorced three years ago."

Tamara's expression freezes on her face. "How could that be? We got married three years ago!"

The city clerk checks the details once again. This time, he adapts a rather awkward tone.

"The results are correct. It's true that you got divorced three years ago. In fact, it took place… on the seventh second right after you got married…"

The clerk continued, "Moreover, Mr. Merrick remarried a year later. The name of his spouse, as listed on the marriage certificate, is Annalise Prescott."

Tamara stood there as if her soul had left her body, her eyes vacant and her arms trembling slightly.

Everyone knew that Tamara Winslow and Braxton Merrick had known each other since childhood and had watched one another mature into adulthood.

He protected her, spoiled her, and treated her like a princess whom everyone envied.

Annalise Prescott, on the other hand, was the orphaned daughter of his arch-nemesis' family.

"Ma'am, are you okay?"

Tamara forced herself to her feet, waving her hand dismissively.

She wandered through the streets in a daze. On the large screen in the central square, an interview with Braxton was playing.

He was dressed in a beige suit, his long legs crossed. The interview suddenly came to a stop when he glanced at his watch and said, "I'm sorry, we'll need to end the interview here. I need to go home and have dinner with my wife."

He flashed a smile at the camera, and the live broadcast ended abruptly.

The crowd let out murmurs of admiration, praising him for doting on his wife and for his devotion to her.

Tamara merely rubbed the wedding ring on her ring finger, finding it all utterly ironic. She wondered who the "wife" he was referring to really was.

Her thoughts drifted back in time, and she seemed able to picture her knight in shining armor, who would wake up an hour earlier each day and take a detour just to pick her up for school.

He'd always grab every opportunity to be by her side, whether it was hosting galas, playing a piano duet, or attending sports meets. Each time, he'd be declaring to the world that she belonged to him.

So, after graduation, Braxton proposed. He'd always said, "If anyone else looks at you for a second too long, I'll lose my mind."

That same year, she returned to the old family home with her parents for the New Year holiday. Heavy snow blocked the roads, yet he trekked several miles and showed up at her door at midnight. As fireworks lit up the sky, he promised that they'd always be together.

The following spring, they held their wedding.

Tamara asked, "Have you really thought this through? I'll expect you to love and honor me for the rest of your life."

He eagerly slipped the ring onto her finger. "Then I'm greedier than that. I want only you, not just in this lifetime, but in the next one and the one after that as well."

After their wedding, their relationship remained as sweet as ever. That was, until the day his arch-nemesis' family tragically died in a car crash, and he suddenly had to attend the funeral.

That day, Tamara rushed over right after getting off her flight. The moment she stepped inside the funeral home, she saw Annalise, dressed in a black dress, nestled in Braxton's arms while he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Tamara's suitcase hit the floor with a loud thud.

Braxton chased after her, anxiously explaining, "She's the only Prescott left. It was only a consoling kiss, as if I were her brother…"

Tamara got into the car and left, but he ran after her. Suddenly, a car grazed past him and knocked him to the ground—yet even when he was sprawled on the ground, he continued to crawl forward after her.

And so, her heart softened.

After the funeral, Annalise vanished from the face of the earth. Some said she went abroad to study.

One day, a work-related matter came up that required Tamara to travel to Yutran on business.

Under the shade of the trees, where pigeons fluttered overhead, she saw Braxton and Annalise feeding each other ice cream. That was when she suddenly remembered that Braxton had recently purchased property abroad, and his overseas trips had also increased in frequency.

She walked over, scattering the pigeons into flight.

On the return flight, Braxton switched seats to sit beside her.

"At first, it was really just a coincidence that I ran into her. I fly there mainly for work, and only incidentally look out for her a little. After all, she did agree to allow us to acquire Prescott Group without any terms.

"Tamara, I just feel bad for her. That's all."

Tamara stared out the window, choosing to trust him one more time. But that time, she added, "Fine. From now on, I'll handle her matters."

Braxton readily agreed, but she still felt uneasy.

That was when she received the diagnosis from the doctor.

"Prolonged anxiety has caused you to develop alexithymia, making it gradually harder for you to experience emotions like everyone else."

But a knife to the heart, no matter how numb one was, still hurt.

…

"Tamara!"

Braxton's car pulled up. As Tamara approached, Annalise intentionally got out and moved to the back seat.

Braxton hurriedly explained, "Annalise just graduated and came back to Sillidia, so we're throwing a welcome home dinner for her. Come with us."

Tamara looked him straight in the eyes. "Don't you have anything else you want to explain to me?"

He froze for a moment, clearly looking uncomfortable. "I really didn't know about her joining Merrick Group. She hid her identity during the interview, and she excelled in every aspect. By the time I found out, HR had already made the decision.

"Please don't overthink it, Tamara."

Tamara clenched her fists, forcibly suppressing the storm of emotions rising inside her. A thousand questions and accusations suddenly dissipated into nothing in that moment. She no longer wanted to expose his endless lies.

With Braxton's backing, Annalise Prescott, the former heiress, was still the center of attention.

Amid the bustling voices, Tamara felt a little suffocated, so she headed to the restroom. When she came out, she found Braxton leaning against a wall in the hallway.

Michael Kitler, his friend, offered him a cigarette, but he refused with a frown.

"We're preparing for a baby recently, so I've cut out cigarettes and alcohol. They're bad for Tamara," he explained.

"As expected. Very impressive," Michael said, giving him a thumbs up. "But when the baby's born and it's time to fill out the birth certificate, your marital status will be revealed. With Tamara's personality, she'll definitely make sure you'll never be able to find her again in this lifetime."

A flicker of something passed through Braxton's eyes, but he quickly regained his composure.

"Then I just won't let her find out. I'll have everything sorted out nicely by then."

Michael glanced toward the private room they were using. "It's been a few years, but that little lady has only gotten much wilder. You'd better keep an eye on her. Don't let her stir things up in front of Tamara."

The corner of Braxton's lips curved up slightly.

"That's exactly what makes her different from Tamara. I like it when she makes a fuss. With or without the marriage certificate, Tamara will always be by my side. But Annalise is different. I need that certificate to keep her tied to me."

Tamara gripped the doorframe so hard that she didn't even notice that her fingernail had broken. Droplets of blood fell into the small pools of water already on the floor, spreading and blooming into dark patches.

Pain should've shot from her finger to her heart, but her heart no longer felt pain—only endless bitterness remained.

She moved to another place and drank until she was completely wasted.

In her haze, she vaguely heard someone ask where she wanted to go.

"Can you get me a plane ticket? I want to go somewhere no one can find me," she replied.

The person paused for a moment. "I don't have plane tickets, but how about a ticket for a boat?"

Tamara woke up in an unfamiliar room. A sticky note was stuck to the nightstand.

"See you in two weeks at the pier."

As the haze of alcohol wore off, her memories slowly returned.

The man she'd met last night was none other than Marshall Ripley—the only person who could truly stand toe-to-toe with Braxton, and the only one capable of helping her disappear for good.

When she grabbed her phone, it showed nearly 100 missed calls and messages, all from Braxton.

…

By the time Tamara arrived home, it was already evening.

Braxton immediately ended the video conference he was in and hurried over to her.

"Tamara, where did you go? You never came back last night after you went to get some air. If you'd been gone any longer, I would've turned the whole city upside down trying to find you."

His eyes were bloodshot, suggesting that he hadn't slept at all last night.

The laptop on the table was still on, and the screensaver was a photo of Tamara on their wedding day. The first time Braxton had seen her in that white wedding gown, he'd cried like a little child.

Tamara stared at him for a long time. The love in his eyes was still overwhelming. It just… wasn't exclusively for her anymore.

She looked away and said calmly, "I met a friend, and we ended up talking for a long time. I forgot to tell you."

Braxton visibly relaxed. He took her hand and led her to the dining table, then rolled up his sleeves and began serving her.

"You've been looking a little pale lately. Do you want to go to the hospital to get checked out?"

Tamara's hand, in the middle of scooping up food, froze midair.

She always told him in advance when she went out, and that day, when she'd gone to the hospital, it had been no different. But he'd been so preoccupied with Annalise that he didn't remember it at all.

"The weather's too hot, so I don't have much of an appetite," she answered simply.

Braxton immediately turned toward the kitchen. "Edna, make lighter dishes from now on. And go buy some of Tamara's favorite fruits and make some refreshing desserts—a different one every day."

Edna Thatcher, their maid, agreed at once, but didn't head back to the kitchen right away. Following her gaze, Tamara noticed a lunch box placed on the cabinet by the door.

Soon, her plate was piled high with peeled shrimp and other dishes.

Braxton stood and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Babe, take your time eating. There's an emergency meeting at the office, so I need to run."

He hurriedly washed his hands, and as he left, he didn't forget to take the lunch box with him.

Tamara got up and glanced at the contents of the pot on the stove. It was peanut stew.

The light in her eyes dimmed bit by bit.

She had once gone into anaphylactic shock from peanuts. After that incident, Braxton had forbidden anything peanut-related from entering the house ever again. Even a maid with a few stray peanut shells stuck to her sleeve had been fired on the spot.

Yet the peanuts that were practically poison to her were Annalise's favorite.

Tamara turned and went upstairs, then opened the surveillance app on her phone.

After she'd discovered that Braxton and Annalise were still in contact with each other, Braxton had voluntarily installed a camera in his office to put her at ease.

"This way, you won't jump to the wrong conclusions again, Tamara," he had said.

But at the moment, the feed streaming to her phone was pitch black. As expected, Braxton would never let himself slip up in front of her.

However, just moments later, the image came back, and Annalise's voice drifted through.

"I'm your legal wife, you know—and yet we're sneaking around like this."

Braxton blew on the stew to cool it, then fed her a spoonful.

"Don't be greedy, you little rascal. I risk losing Tamara just by giving you that status."

Annalise pouted and threw herself into his arms.

"I know. But that's what makes this exciting, you know?"

Her eyes flicked straight toward the surveillance camera, her gaze full of provocation. Her tone, however, remained soft and sweet.

"As long as I have you, that's enough."

After a long silence, Braxton kissed the top of her head and said, "Timing really matters. If I'd met you first, maybe I wouldn't have chosen Tamara."

In that instant, it felt as though every ounce of strength had drained from Tamara's body.

She remembered her seventh birthday party. Her mother had pointed at the circle of boys downstairs and asked gently, "Tamara, which one do you like? Choose one, and he'll go to school with you from now on, okay?"

Tamara had thought for a long time before pointing at a boy standing in the corner. "He looks really lonely. I'll keep him company from now on."

"So… Braxton Merrick, it wasn't you who chose me. I was the one who chose you. But now… I regret it," she mused to herself.

Tamara looked up at the massive wedding portrait on the wall and hurled her phone at it.

The glass shattered on impact.

Beneath the shattered glass, the phone continued to stream the live feed.

Braxton leaned forward, pinning the woman in his arms against the couch. "You only want me? Then what about this? Do you want this?"

He raised his hand, letting a necklace dangle from his fingers.

Tamara's eyes widened. Braxton had given her an identical necklace before. But he had clearly told her that it was a one-of-a-kind piece, the only one in the world.

She immediately dug up an old photo of the necklace and sent it to a friend in the jewelry business. The reply came quickly.

"It's a fake."

A laugh escaped Tamara as she stared at those words.

The necklace she owned was just like her status as Mrs. Merrick—both fake. As expected, one heart could never truly love two people.

She gripped her phone tightly, watching as Annalise's eyes filled with tears. Batting her lashes, Annalise said, "I have one more wish…"

The next second, Braxton's call came through. "Tamara, something suddenly came up, and I have to go on a business trip for the next two days. Make sure to eat properly even when I'm not around. Okay?"

After hanging up, Tamara—almost as if possessed—drove to his office building, and just so happened to see Braxton's car pull out.

She followed it for a long while, and they eventually turned into a winding mountain road, finally stopping at the entrance to a shrine.

Mist and rain shrouded everything, and the path was slick and wet.

Braxton bent down and carried Annalise on his back as he climbed uphill.

This place wasn't unfamiliar to Tamara. At the end of a thousand stone steps stood a shrine where locals often came to pray for blessings.

After getting married, when Tamara had failed to conceive, Braxton's mother, Marjorie Langford, had brought her here.

"You have to kneel on each step and say a prayer. Only with true sincerity will you be granted a child."

That day had been a rainy one like this one too. At first, her knees were stained with green moss, then eventually, they were scraped raw until they were bleeding.

When she finally reached the final step, Braxton, who had hurried over, knelt down beside her. Later, he'd scolded his mother for her superstitious beliefs and refused to return to his parents' home for half a year.

Tamara still remembered that on that day, the two of them had even hung a love lock together on Lovers' Bridge, a bridge just outside the shrine.

She never imagined that when she'd return here again, it would be because she was tailing Braxton and another woman.

Braxton and Annalise finally stopped at Lovers' Bridge. Annalise searched through the dense cluster of locks before suddenly stretching her hand out to him.

He chuckled and pulled out a key. "I can't believe you actually found it."

Tamara, standing behind a tree, clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her palms.

Sure enough, the next second, Annalise unlocked one of the locks and tossed it off the mountainside, replacing it with a new one.

Looking smug, she said, "You promised me that if I found the lock you shared with Tamara, I could do whatever I wanted with it. Since she's your ex-wife now, that lock obviously can't be hung here anymore."

Ex-wife?

Tamara suddenly remembered that on the day they registered their marriage, Braxton had prepared a thick stack of documents, claiming that he was going to transfer properties and assets under her name.

She had signed them all without even giving them a second glance. Who could've guessed that buried among them was a divorce agreement?

In just seven seconds, the marriage she had dreamed of throughout her entire youth had come to an end.

And the only reason Braxton had married Annalise a year later was that he had to wait for her to reach the legal marriage age. He was willing to wait for her to grow up, yet he could spare Tamara only seven seconds before ending everything.

That was the "love" he kept harping on about.

…

When Braxton returned home, it was already two days later than what he'd originally said.

As soon as he walked in, Edna exclaimed, "What beautiful flowers. I've never seen anything like them."

He offered them to Tamara proudly.

They were a rare species that grew only on the sheer cliffs behind the shrine. Anyone could access them freely, but they had to risk their lives to pick them.

Tamara, however, only gave them a brief glance. "Put them in a vase, Edna."

"Don't you like them?" Braxton asked, noticing her indifference.

Pulling her into his embrace, he continued, "Don't be upset, babe. I didn't come home on time because a TV station invited both of us to appear on a show, and I went ahead to scout the location first.

"It's an outdoor interview with beautiful scenery. I'm sorry I've been too busy lately and neglected you. I thought I could use this chance to bring you along for some fresh air."

Before Tamara could even respond, he was already instructing Edna to prepare things for their trip.

Yet, Tamara had just seen Annalise's social media, which the latter had just updated.

In the photo, Annalise was holding the same bouquet of flowers, and the red marks on her neck were glaringly obvious. The caption read, "He just left, and I'm already starting to miss him."

Tamara clutched her chest. Her heart felt like a lone boat adrift at sea.

Over the past three years, the happiness she'd treasured so dearly had probably been replicated countless times in this same way. And what she'd received had been nothing but fakes.

The ache in her heart faded almost instantly, leaving only numbness behind.

"My condition must be worsening…" she thought to herself.