Seven years into our marriage, the "pet" Holden Winchester kept on the side got bored. She turned tail and ran, leaving behind only one sentence: "Holden, I’ve got enough of your money. Now, I don't want you anymore either." I watched from the sidelines, coldly waiting to see how long Holden could tolerate this. After all, scenes like this had been playing out constantly for the past three years. But this time, he just smiled with terrifying indifference. "She's just a pet. Did she really think I gave her my heart?" That was until, not long after, news broke that her car had crashed and burned. The man who had always been cold and unfeeling instantly went insane. 1 After Mia died, Holden acted like a man possessed. He locked himself in his study, refusing to eat or drink. I knocked on the door. The only response was a cold, "Get out." I knew he was grieving. I wanted to apologize. But I shut my mouth, realizing how ridiculous I was being. We hadn't divorced yet. He was the one who cheated. Why should I be the one to say sorry? I looked at the cold dinner on the table. The soup I had spent five hours simmering had formed a congealed film on top. It smelled faintly of decay. I dumped it all into the trash compactor. Just like our twenty-year bond. If I didn't throw it out now, it would only rot and breed maggots. Disgusting to me, and disgusting to everyone else. On the eighth day, Holden finally emerged. He had cleaned himself up, shaved, and returned to his usual untouchable, elite persona. But the look he gave me was darker than ever, as if I were the one responsible for his beloved’s death. I looked at him calmly, waiting for the storm. We had known each other for years, married for seven. From school uniforms to wedding gowns, I always thought we were walking the same path. But halfway through, someone decided to get off the bus. I was forced to accept it. "Where is she?" Holden’s voice was dead, devoid of emotion. After a long silence, I whispered, "Buried." Holden’s face instantly darkened. He looked at me with intense hatred. "Genevieve, who gave you permission to bury her?" "Do your dirty hands... even... deserve... to touch her?" His eyes were ferocious, grinding the words out through clenched teeth. I could feel that if I weren't pregnant right now, he would have rushed over to strangle me. But I overestimated my place in his heart. The next second, I was pinned against the sofa. His large hand tightened around my throat, squeezing the last bit of air from my lungs. The world spun. Darkness encroached on my vision. Sounds faded away. His tone was maniacal. "You really think being pregnant makes you safe?" "It’s just a mistake. Did you really think I’d care about it?" "Mia is dead. Don't worry, you and the little bastard in your belly are next." The terror of suffocation made me want to scream for help, but my throat was clamped shut. Not a sound came out. I realized then that Holden really wanted me dead. I don't know how much time passed before the weight vanished, followed by the sound of the front door slamming. Consciousness slowly returned. I sat on the sofa, dazed. I picked up my phone and scheduled an appointment at the clinic. 2 Holden and I were childhood sweethearts, but we were also a business merger. Our parents arranged the match when we were three. We got our marriage license before we even graduated college. Life after marriage was harmonious, happy even. Maybe it was his upbringing, but Holden was never one to be surprised by anything. He didn't know how to yield, how to love, or how to say sweet things. But he would prepare small surprises for me. On my birthday, he would bake a cake himself. Then, like a magic trick, he’d produce the necklace I’d been eyeing and hug me tight. "Gen, it’s not that I don't have a heart. Give me time. I’ll figure out how to love you properly." "Don't give up on me, okay?" Every time he said that, I would nod vigorously, whispering that we had a lifetime to figure it out. In the heat of the night, he would lean close to my ear, whispering intimate things that made me blush. When did it change? Maybe the day Holden met Mia. I had pushed myself too hard the day before and couldn't wake up. He went to a scheduled event alone. Mia was someone else’s assistant. Fresh out of college, nervous and stiff. She smiled shyly—harmless and cute. She didn't know how to play golf, so she boldly asked Holden to teach her. They exchanged numbers. From meeting to starting an affair took less than two weeks. Mia quit her job and jumped ship to his company. Holden kept her by his side, teaching her everything, cultivating her like a rose waiting to bloom. The funny thing is, I never even got a chance to confront her. Holden hid her too well. I tried to investigate, but found nothing. Instead, I’d face his rage the next day. Once, I paid a fortune to get Mia’s personal info. Before I could do anything, a dossier on my father’s mistress landed on my desk. And not just my dad. The privacy of everyone in my family was laid bare. Holden’s warning was clear: If I targeted Mia, my family’s dirty laundry would be aired to the public. That night, I smashed everything in the villa in front of him. Holden just sat on the sofa, watching me break things with indifference. He looked at me like I was the crazy one. Funny... Now he’s the one who’s gone crazy. 3 That night, just as I fell asleep, his assistant called me. "Ms. Sterling, Mr. Winchester is digging up the grave. Please, come stop him." I laughed. I was the wife Holden married, yet everyone called Mia "Mrs. Winchester" and referred to me as "Ms. Sterling." Since the last time I decided to divorce and then ghosted him, Holden had announced on the company’s official social media: Mia is the only wife I recognize in this life. After that day, I became the laughingstock of the city. I pulled the corner of my mouth; my neck still throbbed with pain. "If it’s his business, call the Winchester family. Don't tell me. It has nothing to do with me." I hung up. I never thought Holden would stoop to grave-robbing. Since he got with Mia, we talked about divorce more often than we ate dinner. But it never happened. Either I refused, or Mia called him away with some excuse. The last time was two months ago. Holden offered me half his assets to sign the papers. I agreed. But the day before we were to sign, I found out I was pregnant. I didn't show up. Holden blew up my phone that day. That was also the day Mia left. When Holden’s grandfather, the patriarch of the family, found out, he talked to Holden all night. Holden might ignore everyone else, but he respected the Old Man. The next day, Holden withdrew all his search teams. He stopped looking for her. We didn't speak again. Divorce wasn't mentioned. I thought that even if he didn't care about me, he cared about the child. Now I see that trying to use a child to tie down a man was the most pathetic thing I’ve ever done. The next day, I went to the clinic. I’m not a saint. I didn't want to be a single mother. I can live without love, but my child should be born into a whole family. The procedure was quick. I was discharged that afternoon. Now that the child was gone, divorce was just a piece of paper. Holden hadn't shown up once during this time. But of course, he was scouring the world for his little lover. He refused to believe Mia was actually dead. 4 Seven years of marriage. I didn't have much stuff, but it wasn't little either. I hired someone to set up a burn barrel in the yard. I burned everything that could burn. The jewelry I couldn't burn, I sold. I didn't want to take a single thing from this villa, nor leave a trace behind. Might as well burn it all. When Holden returned, he walked in just as I threw our wedding photo into the fire. I was surprised. I hadn't seen him in over a month; I thought he’d died of heartbreak. Through the smoke, his eyes were cold. He looked at me like I was already dead. He was holding a funerary urn. As he passed me, Holden suddenly shoved me. If the butler hadn't been quick enough to catch me, I would have fallen into the fire. My face would have been ruined. A chill shot up from the soles of my feet. Holden had truly lost his mind. He was using this to get revenge. Holden clicked his tongue, as if disappointed I hadn't fallen. "Clean this up." He turned and went upstairs. A nameless fire roared to life in my chest. Holden keeping a mistress? I tolerated it. Threatening my family? I tolerated it. Mia’s constant provocations? I tolerated it. Him getting me drunk and pregnant? I tolerated that too. I endured it all for three years. Now he openly wanted me dead. I wasn't going to endure it anymore. If that's how it is, let’s all burn. I rushed up, grabbed Holden’s arm, and spun him around. I slapped him across the face with everything I had. His head snapped to the side. He stared back at me with eyes like ice. Looking at the red handprint on Holden’s face, I felt a flash of immense satisfaction. "Tomorrow morning, 9 AM. We divorce." "I didn't cause Mia’s death. Don't dump your dirty water on me. You know exactly how I got pregnant. I didn't show up for the divorce that day because your mother took me to the family estate." "And your little lover? Your mother ordered the burial because she couldn't stand seeing you act like a ghost. Don't pin your guilt on me." Holden didn't react to my explanation. I didn't care if he believed me. It had nothing to do with me anymore. I made myself clear. As I left the Winchester villa, I thought about the question Holden had asked me once. "Have you ever tasted the feeling of your beloved dying?" Beloved? Ha. How did I answer him back then? Oh, right. I said: "Holden, to me, you’ve been dead for a long time." When two people are in love, they can't see anyone else. Once, I couldn't see Mia. Now, Holden couldn't see me.
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