Chapter 3

Once that debt was settled, I thought Claire could finally leave her nightmare behind.

But it didn't take long for her father to track her down again.

He ambushed her for cash, threatening to marry her off to another wealthy creditor to cover his new tabs.

Claire broke down, crying in my arms, telling me she could never go back to that house, that she refused to spend her entire life treated like a piece of collateral.

In the end, I scraped together the absolute last of my emergency funds and paid him off one final time, forcing him to sign a total severance agreement.

Only then did our quiet life truly begin.

We were broke back then, but we worked hard together. Money was tight, yet every day felt warm and grounded.

Eventually, I got promoted, and she landed a much better corporate job.

She even told me that once she saved up enough, she would pay me back every cent.

Back then, my world revolved entirely around her. I smiled and said, "You don't need to pay me back. Just marry me."

Claire said yes.

We finally got married.

I truly believed our lives were heading toward a bright, beautiful future.

I never imagined that one step after another, we would end up here.

She didn't come home all night.

The next morning, I sent Claire a text: "Are you coming home today?"

Two hours later, she finally replied: "Exhausted. Overslept."

I didn't say another word.

Late that afternoon, the front door clicked open. Claire walked in, exhaustion written across her face.

She kicked off her heels, tossed her designer purse onto the console table, and ran a hand through her hair.

Every gesture looked no different from any ordinary day.

Except as she walked past the living room, her hand instinctively tugged her collar upward.

Even so, I caught it, a faint, dark red mark bruised on the side of her neck.

Almost immediately, she dropped her hand and walked toward me as if nothing had happened.

Seeing me sitting quietly on the sofa, she paused.

"What are you doing sitting here in the dark?"

I didn't answer.

Frowning, she turned on her heel and headed into the kitchen.

A moment later, she poked her head out, her tone laced with annoyance.

"I worked so late last night, and you didn't even leave any breakfast for me?"

She sounded so self-righteous, as though last night had been nothing more than an ordinary night of hard work.

I looked up at her.

Claire wore that familiar, practiced look of grievance, as if she really had been working overtime, as if I were the one failing her.

My face remained completely blank.

"Sit down. We need to talk."

She walked over and slumped into the armchair, immediately looking down to scroll through her phone. She didn't bother looking up, not even offering a glance.

Coldly, she said, "Go ahead."

"Let's get a divorce."

Her fingers froze. Slowly, she looked up at me.

Her expression shifted from disbelief to mocking exasperation.

"What did you just say?"

"A divorce."

Claire slammed her phone face-down on the coffee table, letting out an irritated sigh. Her patience snapped instantly.

"Are you ever going to drop this? Just because I didn't come home last night, you're throwing a tantrum and demanding a divorce?"

She glared at me, her voice rising with every word.

"I bust my ass working all night out there, so tired I can barely keep my eyes open, and I come home to your cold shoulder and ridiculous accusations!"

"Are you trying to drive me completely insane before you're satisfied?"

I stayed silent.

Seeing that I wasn't taking the bait, her frustration boiled over.

"Think whatever the hell you want. I don't have the energy for your childish drama."

With that, she stormed into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her with a deafening bang.

I sat there in the quiet room.

I knew she thought I was just acting out, throwing an ultimatum to get attention.

But the truth was, in this marriage, I was completely drained.

And I had lost everything.

On the third day, that stranger's social feed updated.