Chapter 1

On our wedding anniversary, it was also the day my wife Kyra Holmes' childhood friend Alan Rose returned to the country.

I had prepared a feast, but instead of my wife, I received a miscarriage report from Alan.

My gaze trembled as I looked at the name section.

When I saw the name "Kyra," my heart died completely.

Later, I let them be, but my wife regretted it.

***

"Honey, make me a plate of spaghetti."

At midnight, my wife came into the room with a pale face.

She kicked off her high heels lazily, tossed her handbag onto the sofa, and walked into the bathroom, rubbing her lower back and clicking her heels.

After a while, she emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel and, seeing the expected hot noodles missing, noticed the exquisite meal in the trash. She frowned and looked at me with dissatisfaction as I watched TV on the sofa.

"What's this about?"

I ignored her, changing the channel expressionlessly.

Normally, I go to bed by ten, but now my mind was incredibly clear. The laughter on the TV only stirred up my turmoil.

Noticing my mood, Kyra softened her anger, pulled out a high-quality wool sweater from her bag, and stuffed it into my arms, clinging to my arm and sweet-talking me.

"Sorry, honey. I came back too late today and didn't let you know. Consider this my apology. Please don't be mad."

I glanced at the sweater, feeling even more desolate.

It was not in a size I could wear but was a brand that Alan frequently wore, with a lingering scent of Alan's perfume.

It might have just been taken off Alan.

What's worse...

I pushed Kyra away and, with a cold gaze, asked her, "Don't you remember I'm allergic to wool?"

Kyra's face showed a hint of embarrassment as she forced a smile and said, "Oh, I'm sorry, honey. It's my fault for being careless. I'll get you a different gift tomorrow."

"No need. Let's get a divorce."

"What?"

Kyra's expression changed abruptly, her voice rising sharply.

"What are you talking about? You want a divorce over something so trivial?

"I work hard every day to support the family, and because I came back late today and brought the wrong gift, you're pulling this stunt?

"You're useless. Can you live this well without me?"

I was so angry that my hands went numb as I threw the miscarriage report at her face.