Chapter 1

After seven years of marriage, my husband suddenly started working out, and he often fussed over his hair in front of the mirror.

I leaned against the doorway and asked, half-jokingly:

"Honey, you're suddenly so focused on your appearance—could it be you've fallen in love?"

Dana sprayed cologne on his wrist. "Don't imagine things. I've had a lot of events lately, and I represent the company's image."

"Do you remember what day it is today?"

Dana paused. "What day?"

I smiled. "Never mind."

After my husband left, I looked at the "No Schedule" glaring on his calendar.

I went back into the bedroom and picked up my daughter. "If Daddy and Mommy got divorced, who would you go with?"

My daughter wrapped her arms around my neck. "Mom, of course."

...

Today is the anniversary of my father's death. Since Dana didn't want to go, I took my daughter Yaya along with me.

I bought a bunch of peonies and placed them in front of my mother's headstone beside his.

My daughter took the candy from her pocket and set it in front of her grandparents' graves.

"Grandpa, Grandma, these are Yaya's favorite candies. They're for you. Be happy, okay?"

After we sat in front of the headstones for a while, I took Yaya home first, and then, as if something possessed me, I pulled up the location of the other car in our household.

The location showed a restaurant—a well-known date spot in Glenport City, with a five-star hotel right next door.

And Dana, who'd told me he was going to an event, was having a candlelit dinner with a young girl.

Dana gentlemanly cut the steak into small pieces and offered them to the girl.

The girl smiled and gave him a kiss as thanks.

I clenched my fists, and only when the manicured nails stung my palms did I notice and loosen my grip.

So it was a date. No wonder he had to dress himself up so nicely.

I've never been the type to hold back, so I went to the front desk, ordered a bottle of red wine, and slowly poured it over Dana's head.

Dana shot to his feet, furious and about to erupt, but the moment he saw me the fire went out.

"Nadia, what are you doing here?"

"Oh? Did I, your wife, interrupt your date with your mistress?"

The young girl's smile froze, and she stared at him in disbelief.

"Mr. Swanson, you're married?"

Dana quickly explained, "Millie, I have no feelings for her."

"I felt sorry for her because she was an orphan, so I gave her a home."

Something twisted in my chest, and my thoughts drifted back to the winter I was twenty.

Dad had gone out to buy things for the holiday season, and on his way home he found that a household in the neighborhood had caught fire.

My father was a firefighter—he dropped the holiday shopping and rushed off to save people.

Dana's whole family was pulled out, but my father was left in that fire forever.

When my mother heard the news, her heart gave out; she was gone before she could even be loaded into the ambulance.

Back then, Dana's eyes were rimmed red as he held my hand and said:

"Nadia, believe me, I will give you a home."

Dana did give me a home—but now he wanted to give another woman one too!

Millie recovered her tone. "So it turns out Dana was just being kind."

"Really, you should be ashamed. Dana already gave you a home—don't repay kindness with spite."

"As for me and Dana, we're truly in love. You can step aside now."

Me, repaying kindness with spite? Dana really knows how to dodge what matters.

Dana sent a message to my phone:

Millie is a young girl with a hot temper. Just bear with her.

I turned off my phone with a cold laugh.

"And how did I become an orphan in the first place? My dad died trying to save him!"

I'd assumed Millie was just some kept woman and hadn't wanted to stoop to her level.

I never expected her to be this shameless even after learning the truth.

I slapped her hard across the face. "You knew he was married and became the mistress anyway—and you're lecturing me about true love?"

Dana quickly pulled Millie behind him and instinctively raised his hand to swing at me.

But just before it touched me, it stopped.

My eyes were red. "Dana, you want to hit me?"

Dana pulled his hand back. "Nadia Larson, that's enough!"

"How many more years do you plan to chain me with this debt of gratitude? Your father was a firefighter—saving people was his job!"

"Even if he hadn't died that time, he'd have died on some future call anyway!"