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.

On the day of the interview, Braxton and Tamara wore matching outfits. They took their seats, with Braxton holding Tamara's hand the entire time.

When the talk show host asked about details of their relationship, Braxton answered every question flawlessly. He even took time to adjust the cushion behind her back.

"From childhood sweethearts to walking down the aisle, and your relationship is still going as strong as ever—you're truly a model couple. I'm sure there will be even more happiness in your future—"

Suddenly, a loud crash cut the host off mid-sentence, and everyone turned toward the noise.

Annalise stood stiffly beside a collapsed flower stand, while her supervisor jabbed a finger at her and scolded her in a hushed, angry voice.

Almost instantly, Braxton let go of Tamara's hand and strode over.

"You're fired," he snapped.

His gaze was fixed on Annalise's red and swollen forearm, but his words were directed at the manager.

"When a subordinate makes a mistake, the supervisor bears responsibility as well," Braxton continued, not giving the manager any chance to argue. "Besides, treating an employee like this in public damages the company's image."

Tamara remained in her seat, acutely aware of how everyone's gaze was darting back and forth between her and Annalise. But she maintained a perfectly composed smile the entire time.

When the interview resumed, Braxton was clearly distracted.

The host paused, taken aback. "Mr. Merrick, you got your wedding anniversary wrong."

The hand holding Tamara's suddenly tightened, and Braxton instinctively looked at her. He quickly explained, "That's because Tamara always says we're so happy that every day feels like we're newlyweds."

A wave of admiring cheers erupted from the audience.

But Tamara knew the truth. The date Braxton had blurted out on instinct was his anniversary with Annalise.

In this multiple-choice question called love, she had already become the option that was crossed out.

Tamara gave a small smile. While taking a sip of water, she quietly withdrew her hand from his and never put it back.

For the final segment, Braxton was supposed to carry her on his back through a wall of flowers. But just as she wrapped her arms around his neck, Annalise, standing nearby, suddenly keeled over.

Before Tamara could even react, the support beneath her vanished. She stumbled and fell, scraping her knees badly on the gravel.

Meanwhile, Braxton had already scooped Annalise into his arms and rushed toward the exit.

Behind them, with the cameras still rolling, only Tamara's lone, disheveled figure remained in the frame.

The staff helped her up and took her to the hospital as well.

…

In the hospital room, tears streamed down Annalise's pale face.

"You should hurry back to Ms. Winslow," she said. "Don't let me get in your way of shooting a romance documentary."

Braxton frowned. "Why are you throwing a tantrum? Tamara and I only came on this show for company publicity. It's all work. We have a partnership with Winslow Group."

However, this only made Annalise cry even harder. She threw her arms around his waist and wailed, "It's all my fault. I'm useless. I'm of no help to you at all!"

"What nonsense are you talking about? You've already given me everything. And I can't give you anything other than a title that can never be made public," Braxton said, stroking her hair tenderly. "I'm the one who's wronged you."

Tamara stood outside the room, feeling her world spin. But she understood that being hurt by the truth was still better than being comforted by lies.

Annalise's voice continued to drift through the door.

"I really do love Edna's cooking. If only I could eat it every day."

Braxton cupped her face and wiped away her tears. "That's easy enough."

That night, Edna reheated dinner three times before Braxton's car finally pulled into the driveway.

When he saw the white bandage wrapped around Tamara's leg, it seemed to finally register that he had caused her to get hurt earlier in the day. He held her in his arms and apologized over and over again. Then he went into the kitchen and personally cooked a few of her favorite dishes himself.

"I'll make it up to you by cooking for you from now on, babe. That'll be my punishment."

Edna laughed. "Wouldn't that mean I'll be out of a job then?"

Early the next morning, Edna came to say her goodbyes to Tamara.

In the evening, Annalise updated her story. "I want it, I got it."

The photo depicted a series of dishes that Tamara had gotten used to eating for the past three years. In the bottom left corner, a hand could be seen. Custom cufflinks with Annalise's name shimmered on his sleeves.

Tamara's phone lit up with a text from Braxton.

"I'm working overtime tonight, babe. Be a good girl and go have dinner first."

Tamara opened the fridge. Braxton had always told Edna not to hoard food in advance for the sake of their health. She bought the ingredients she needed fresh daily. As a result, the only thing left in their fridge was a bowl of mac-and-cheese.

Clearly, this had slipped Braxton's mind.

After a simple dinner, Tamara got under the covers, but she couldn't fall asleep. The familiar yet terrifying feeling of suffocation gradually took over her. Rolling up her sleeves, Tamara realized that rashes had appeared all over her arms. It was an allergic reaction.

A few memories flashed across Tamara's head. Not long ago, Edna had made peanut stew for Annalise. This time, she'd accidentally used the same pot to reheat her mac-and-cheese.

As her consciousness faded, Tamara blacked out before falling off her bed.

In the endless darkness, she was plunged into a dream, travelling back in time to the day her father, Charlie Winslow, passed. Braxton had been overseas negotiating an important deal.

"I'll come home right now," insisted Braxton.

"No need. Whatever you're handling is more important." Tamara sat in Charlie's bedroom. She had cried so much to the point where she felt as though her eyes had dried.

"Wait for me." Braxton didn't hang up the phone.

In the morning, when Tamara startled awake, she mumbled into the phone instinctually, "Are you still there, Brax?"

Almost instantaneously, he replied, "I am."

The door burst open. Braxton strode in and embraced her.

"Don't cry. I'll take care of you in Mr. Winslow's place."

Back then, it was as though he had tunnel vision whenever it came to her. The whole world mattered less to him than a single tear of hers.

However, no matter how deeply he loved her, love ultimately lost to novelty.

"Be gentle! Didn't you see her furrow her brows?"

The noise dragged Tamara out of her dreams. She felt a prick on the back of her hand.

Annalise simpered, "It was my fault. I got hungry and asked Edna to cook for me. That's why Tamara accidentally ingested peanuts."

"It's not your fault. Tamara was just being too careless. Edna has made you your favorite peanut biscuits. Be a good girl and go back."

Braxton coaxed Annalise till she left. The second the door shut, he leaned over Tamara's bed. When he realized that she'd woken up, his eyes lit up.

"Are you feeling better, Tamara?" He grabbed her hand that didn't have an IV drip attached to it.

"You terrified me. I walked into our room to see you lying prone on the floor. I've made them change out all the cooking utensils. There won't be any more peanuts, I promise."

Tamara stared at him absentmindedly. She didn't point out why there were peanuts in the house in the first place.

Coldly, she requested, "I'd like to drink Edna's soup."

"Have you forgotten? Edna went home. The nutritionist I hired will be here in a few days. She's more professional than Edna. You'll like her."

Eyes darkening, Tamara smiled self-depreciatingly.

"Really? How lucky of me."

Braxton pressed his lips against the back of her hand, every bit as devoted as he used to be.

"Of course. I'd fly to the sky and get you a star if that was what you wanted."

Tamara drew her hand out of his grasp silently and turned away.

Braxton could give her everything, but only if it was something Annalise would scorn.

In loving him, she'd done nothing wrong, but boy, did she regret it.