Chapter 1

When I found out my husband Jones's terminal cancer diagnosis was a mistake, I breathed a sigh of relief.

But when I got home to tell him the good news, he handed me divorce papers instead.

"I've settled for you my whole life. Now that I only have three months left, I want to spend them with the person I truly love. Please grant me this final wish."

I stared at the divorce agreement, stunned.

What I didn't expect was what Jones said next:

"Can't you even grant me this one last wish? I'm dying anyway—I'll leave with nothing. All the assets go to you!"

All the assets go to me? Then of course I'll grant his wish!

"Let's divorce. Please grant me this final wish." Jones handed me the divorce papers, his eyes calm, his tone solemn.

I stood frozen, finally managing to ask: "The person you truly love? What do you mean?"

Jones wore a white linen shirt and beige casual pants today. He didn't look over thirty at all—still the refined, scholarly university professor.

He lowered his head. "My life has entered its final countdown. There's no need to hide it from you anymore."

"Three years into our marriage, I met a girl. She was my student."

"We often discussed literature together. We had so much common ground, our thoughts aligned. It was completely different from discussing groceries and bills with you. We had spiritual resonance."

"I fell for her."

"But I was already married. Out of responsibility to my family, and because she felt guilty toward you, we eventually separated."

Jones's voice was calm yet tinged with longing. When he talked about that girl, the corners of his mouth even curved into a faint smile he probably didn't notice himself.

"These years we've maintained a friendship, nothing crossing boundaries. When we occasionally met, we only discussed poetry and philosophy, life and meaning."

He looked up, staring intently at me. "Do you know? Only when I'm with her do I feel truly alive, like a complete person. Not bound by mundane trivialities, not burdened by thoughts of producing offspring."

"She's my muse, my soulmate. We're an accident and a regret constrained by worldly rules."

I listened quietly to his heartfelt confession, my mouth twitching with an absurd smile.

"What a beautifully reasoned speech."

Jones froze, his ears instantly flushing red. As if deeply offended, he snapped angrily: "Vulgar! Not half as refined as her! Don't you know your mediocrity and ignorance are what I can't stand most? Marrying you was like casting pearls before swine!"

I was speechless for a moment. My initial anger gradually subsided. "So what, should I apologize to you?"

I stepped closer. "Professor Jones, does wrapping infidelity in artistic pretense turn it into an enviable love story?"

Jones seemed to belatedly feel some embarrassment, but his gaze remained determined. "I'm definitely getting this divorce. At the end of my life, I don't want to leave with regrets."

He pushed the divorce agreement toward me. I picked it up and flipped through it, my eyes skimming past "irreconcilable differences" in the reason column and landing on "Jones leaves with nothing" in the asset division section.

Jones lifted his chin with apparent magnanimity. "These material possessions mean nothing to a dying man anyway. After all, I've wronged you. Consider it compensation."

I let out a derisive laugh, thinking of the misdiagnosis notice in my pocket. The next second, I picked up a pen and quickly signed my name.

Fine. Let him go pursue his soulmate and spiritual world. I'll suffer alone with all these vulgar properties, savings, and investment funds!