On our wedding anniversary, I had a car accident, but my wife was unreachable.

It wasn't until I woke up that I learned she was actually at a karaoke bar, passionately kissing her first love.

She thought I'd still forgive her.

But when I asked for a divorce and decided to walk away, she regretted it.

However, love tended to wither away through sleepless nights and endless torment.

She was no longer my one and only.

——

The sudden crash left me pinned beneath the car, the world around me spinning in chaos. As I glanced at the crushed flowers in the passenger seat, a wave of relief washed over me—Amanda Miller hadn't been there.

Blood dripped from my forehead, splattering my phone screen and blurring my vision. Just as I was about to lose consciousness, the call I desperately tried to make couldn't connect, leaving only the cold, mechanical tone echoing in my ears.

When I finally opened my eyes again, I found myself staring up at the sterile ceiling of a hospital room. I scanned the area, but Amanda was nowhere in sight, and a pang of disappointment hit me.

She probably didn't even know I was in an accident yet.

My right hand was wrapped in bandages, but thankfully, my left was fine, and I didn't seem to have any other major injuries.

"You're awake! How are you feeling?" A nurse approached, ready to change my IV drip.

"I'm okay," I nodded, forcing a grateful smile.

But her expression shifted to one of sympathy as she said, "You should probably have a family member come in."

My heart sank at her words. I searched her face for any signs of what that could mean, unable to stop myself from asking about my condition. But she only replied that they still needed to wait for more test results.

I tried to brush off the unease creeping in and fished my phone out from under the covers. When the screen lit up, I noticed I had an unread message.

Panic surged through me. I had gotten into this accident without telling Amanda, and she must be worried sick right now.

But when I opened the message, I froze.

It was a photo—Amanda wrapped in the arms of another man. The sender was Russell Nelson. The dimly lit background suggested they were in a bar or a private room at a karaoke place.

So that was why Amanda hadn't answered my calls or texts; she was with her ex-boyfriend.

A heavy weight settled in my chest, and I instinctively pressed the call button.

When Amanda picked up, her voice was tinged with annoyance. "What's up?"

Even though she was trying to hide it, I could still hear a male voice in the background.

"Where are you?" My tone was thick with tension.

"I'm at work. You know I've been swamped lately, right? If there's nothing else, I'm hanging up!"

My fists clenched as I couldn't hold back my frustration. "Do you even remember what today is? Do you have any idea where I am right now?"

"Michael, what's with the attitude? I can't talk right now. We'll sort it out when I get home!"

And just like that, the line went dead.

I sat there, stunned, my hand still gripping the phone, feeling like I was spiraling down into despair. Today marked our third wedding anniversary, and in my haste to get home, I had collided with a car that ran a red light.

But Amanda had forgotten. Not only that, but she was also with Russell.

Russell was her junior in college and her former boyfriend. If it hadn't been for her parents' disapproval, they might have ended up together.

What have I done wrong? If she doesn't love me, why has she agreed to marry me in the first place?

Just then, the door to my hospital room swung open, and I looked up my heart racing. There she was—Amanda, standing in the doorway, her expression unreadable.

I felt the sourness I'd been feeling suddenly evaporate, only to be replaced by a jolt of unease when I noticed the person standing behind Amanda.

Her clothes were disheveled, and Russell, who was trailing behind her, wasn't much better. If I wasn't mistaken, there was a hint of lipstick smudged on his collar.

"Michael, are you so desperate to see me that you'd risk your own life?" Amanda's voice was icy. "When did you become someone who resorts to such underhanded tactics?"

The joy I'd felt at her appearance plummeted instantly. My voice came out dry, "Is that how you see me? Besides, shouldn't you explain why you're here with him?"

She wasn't here to check on me; she came to confront me! Is she blaming me for interrupting their little rendezvous?

Amanda, visibly frustrated, snapped back, "Stop overthinking! It's just a coincidence that Russell and I ran into each other today. When he heard about your accident, he insisted on coming to see you. Don't be so petty!"

I managed a self-deprecating smile, "Well, now that you've seen him, can he leave? I need to talk with my wife."

Russell, looking somewhat awkward and apologetic, addressed Amanda, "It seems your husband doesn't want me here. I'll take my leave. Amanda, don't let my presence cause any tension between you and Mr. Pierce."

"Wait, you don't need to leave," Amanda interrupted, pulling him back. She turned to me with an edge in her voice, "If you have something to say, just say it. There's no need to take it out on others."

Unable to hold back, I shot back, "Do you prefer him over me? If so, I can step aside anytime."

Amanda's impatience was evident. "Michael, why are you acting like a jealous woman? Who I choose to talk to or be with is none of your business. Don't think this will scare me into submission. Maybe you should reflect on where you went wrong first!"

With that, Amanda led Russell out. If I wasn't mistaken, Russell's smug look as they left was almost blinding.

I was left fuming, the sight making me both laugh and seethe with anger.

After fuming all night, I spent the early morning scrolling through my phone, with no message from Amanda.

When the sun was fully up, I shook off the lingering heaviness in my head and gave a wry smile.

I must not matter much to Amanda. If I had died in this accident, she might have felt relieved, free to pursue a relationship with Russell without any baggage.

I had been staring blankly at the sunlight streaming through the window when the nurse entered the room.

"Michael—has your family not arrived yet?"

I managed a strained smile. "If there's something you need to tell me, just go ahead. I can take it."

Aside from Amanda, I had no other family. I was born in an orphanage and was adopted by the Pierce family when I was ten. They were wonderful people, but fate was unkind to them; they died in a plane crash. Once again, I found myself alone.

I had hoped that marrying Amanda would give me a new family, but now it seemed that this family was unraveling, too.

The nurse's face showed pity as she handed me a report. "We found a tumor in your brain. The situation isn't great. You have two options: surgery or conservative treatment. The success rate for surgery is only thirty percent. I suggest you discuss this with your family."

I was taken aback, gripping the report tightly. My expression must have looked awful. The nurse, sensing my distress, tried to offer some comfort. "If you can get a renowned specialist, the success rate for the surgery could improve. Don't lose hope."

I thanked her, said I'd think it over, and proceeded with my discharge paperwork.

Standing outside the hospital, I was momentarily at a loss about where to go.

After much deliberation, I decided to return home. My anxiety about the future made me crave some comfort from family—even a simple word of concern could give me immense courage.

When I got home and opened the door, I was greeted by a sight that nearly stopped me in my tracks.

Russell was emerging from the bathroom, wearing my clothes and drying his hair.

He seemed surprised to see me but quickly put on a smug grin. "You're back. I thought you'd be staying at the hospital a bit longer."

"Who's here?" Amanda's voice called from the kitchen, accompanied by the aroma of cooking.

Amanda, who hadn't shown any concern for me while I was in the hospital, was now cooking for Russell.

In the years we'd been married, Amanda had never cooked for herself. She'd always relied on me, playfully demanding that I prepare the meals.

She once joked that she'd starve without my cooking. I even enrolled in a cooking course to learn various cuisines for her.

Now, she was in the kitchen, preparing food for someone else.

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut, leaving me feeling dizzy and unsteady.