Chapter 1

The video of my husband and my sister having sex in a car went viral, and that’s when I received two phone calls.

One was a torrent of abuse from my mother, the other a warning from my mother-in-law.

"You worthless disappointment! Her mother stole my man, and now she's stolen yours too? Do you have any idea how much effort I put into raising you?"

"If this affair damages the Davies family's reputation, you can forget about ever seeing your son, Leo, again!"

My phone buzzed again, a message from my sister, full of smugness.

In the photo, her face was radiant, the marks on her neck glaringly obvious.

"Ellie, Ethan was amazing, he took me over and over again."

"I told him I couldn't take any more, but he was so relentless."

I sat at the dining table, numbly swallowing my meal along with my antidepressants.

Beside me lay a crumpled, worn-out letter.

In childish handwriting, there was only one short sentence.

It was late when Ethan returned.

He roughly tore at my clothes.

Drowsy from the medication, I woke with a start, opening my eyes to see a drunken Ethan.

The smell of alcohol on him was thick and pungent, and his eyes held an inexplicable hatred.

I began to wonder what I had done wrong.

As soon as the malicious rumors hit trending topics, I contacted PR to suppress them.

The company quickly released a statement, claiming the images circulating online were AI-generated.

And I posted photos on my personal Ins account: me, linking arms with Ethan, smiling brightly, while he looked dotingly at me.

The rumors of marital discord stopped.

After all that, controlling public perception as much as possible, I had barely managed to appease my mother-in-law's anger.

As Mrs. Davies, everything I did was impeccable. I couldn't understand what Ethan was unhappy about?

He didn't give me time to think. He was here for one purpose: the task of conceiving a second child.

I lay on the bed like a breeding machine, letting Ethan have his way.

However, the position Ethan demanded today was exceptionally humiliating. He wanted me to beg him like an animal for sex.

He lit a cigarette, a smirk playing on his lips: "Don't want to?"

My nails dug into my palms. When I looked up, my face showed a rare anger.

Ethan didn't give me a chance to rage. He seemed to change completely.

He gently hugged me from behind, chuckling, "If my wife doesn't want to, then forget it."

"I was just teasing you. You're my wife, my partner. How could I make you do something so demeaning?"

Ethan tenderly kissed my cheek, as if the main character of today's trending scandal had nothing to do with him.

He was always like this, provoking my anger with harsh words.

Then he'd casually brush it aside, and my pain and grievances were dismissed as overreacting.

Just then, Ethan's phone rang.

From the other end of the line, Brooke's sobs could be heard.

"Ethan, it's thundering outside. I'm so scared."

"Ethan, will you come be with me?"

Brooke half-sobbed, half-pouted. Ethan's face was full of concern. He hung up, leaving a quick "Something came up at the office."

I grabbed his sleeve, using almost all my strength.

"It's my birthday today. Will you stay?"

Ethan paused for a second, then impatiently said, "I told you something came up at the office. Can you stop making a scene?"

He forcefully shook me off and left without looking back.

The room grew cold.

I refreshed Ins, and as expected, saw Brooke's new photo.

In the picture, Ethan was kissing her passionately, with the caption, "He braved the heavy rain to come to me."

I suddenly remembered, when I had just given birth to Leo, I had an argument with Ethan over a minor thing.

He left me in the pouring rain without a second thought.

I gave a bitter laugh.

Then I noticed a peach-colored thong on the bedroom carpet, covered in suspicious fluids. It must have fallen out when Ethan left in a hurry.

In an instant, my stomach churned.

I vomited in the bathroom until I was lightheaded, my heart aching uncontrollably.

I had tried to resign myself to my fate, but at that moment, I felt so dirty, so utterly defiled!

Closing my eyes, the scene of Ethan and Brooke engaged in passionate acts flashed through my mind.

So dirty, so disgusting!

As I stood up, an envelope fell from my coat pocket.

The letter inside was crumpled into a ball.

I slowly unfolded it, my fingers tracing the words.

My seventeen-year-old self, full of hope, had written this letter, wanting to ask my future self.

"Ellie, are you free?"

I gripped my phone tightly, finally sending the message.

"Ethan, let's get a divorce."