Chapter 1
“Let’s get a divorce. She has stomach cancer and has only six months left. Her last wish is to be my wife.”
Stephanie Shelton remained silent for a long time after hearing her husband’s words.
Maxwell Humphrey frowned slightly at her silence. “We’ll remarry after she passes away. Come on, she doesn’t have much time.”
It was clear–he’d already made up his mind and was merely informing her.
Stephanie stared blankly at his profile, suddenly feeling like she didn’t know him at all.
She had been staying by his side since adulthood.
Back then, during a violent storm, he had stood in front of her, holding a broken piece of wood, and shouted at her stepfather, “If you lay another hand on her, I swear I’ll make you pay!”
She had been on the verge of death. Through the downpour and the blood streaking her face, she had seen his whitened knuckles around that splintered piece of wood and the raw determination in his eyes.
He had saved her life.
After that, they naturally fell in love and got married.
She thought they’d live happily ever after, but after the wedding, he grew distant. Sometimes, she could even feel his growing disdain for her.
Chapter 1
“Stephanic, are you listening to me?”
Maxwell’s frown deepened when he noticed she’d zoned out.
Snapping out of it, she asked, “Do we really have to do this?”
Instead of answering, he said, “She’s been suffering.”
“What about me?” The words slipped out before she could stop them.
He still didn’t respond. There was a flicker of impatience in his eyes.
After a few seconds, he finally said, “She’s dying. Maybe you don’t know this, but she loves me.
“And because I was married, she’s been keeping her distance. She didn’t want to hurt you. We never crossed the line. She’s a good person. Don’t be so cruel, OK?”
His voice was chillingly calm, but every word cut her like a knife.
A shameless woman, being with a married man and pretending to be considerate, was “a good person.”
But the wife, who guarded her marriage, was “vile.”
“Fine. But you’re gonna leave with nothing,” Stephanie said before he could say anything else.
He was slightly stunned. Then he squinted, his gaze scrutinizing.
“Stephanie, I obviously didn’t give you enough credit.”
His voice was laced with fury, which was rare.
“You knew I needed your consent, so now you’re using that to threaten me?”
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Stephanie didn’t respond. She just stared at their shadows cast on the white wall.
Maxwell stubbed out his cigarette in silence. Then he threw on his coat and strode out without hesitation.
It seemed he didn’t care what she felt or how humiliating and unacceptable his request was.
The reason was simple–he knew she couldn’t bring herself to leave him.
That was how it had always been.
He slammed the door shut, leaving a deafening bang behind him.
Left alone, Stephanie sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, staring at the closed door.
After what felt like an eternity, her phone vibrated.
She picked it up and saw a message from someone saved in her contacts as “His Mistress.”
“He came to see me again.”
Attached was a photo–Maxwell’s reflection in the glass at the entryway.
He was smiling gently, with an affection in his eyes that Stephanie had never seen before.
Her fingers paused before she began scrolling up.
The first message was, “He says I’ve always held a place in hieart.”
The second was, “It’s raining tonight. But I’m not cold because he’s with me.”