Chapter 5

Vincent rubbed his temples in exhaustion.

He felt no sympathy for me.

He simply ordered the staff to lock me inside the estate, forbidding me from stepping foot outside without his permission.

Then he went right back to his nightlife, bringing multiple women home at a time.

During those months when my mind was shattered, one of his side chicks deliberately baited me toward the balcony, and I fell.

My left leg suffered a catastrophic fracture, leaving me permanently disabled.

To this day, I still walk with a noticeable limp, enduring constant, deep aches.

When Vincent visited me in the hospital, his first words were pure accusation.

"You're completely out of your mind!"

"Serena, how can you be so consumed by jealousy? Every man in our social circle messes around, but at least I actually care about you! Did you really have to destroy yourself like this?"

"A successful man like me was never going to settle for just one woman! Can't you just cure yourself of this pathetic jealousy?"

He pinched a cigarette between his fingers, sounding thoroughly drained. "Let's get a divorce, Serena."

"I can't stand being around you for another second."

I stared at him, the light behind my eyes dying out completely.

Every desperate plea for reconciliation I had held back withered away.

My heart seized until I couldn't breathe.

Crushed under the weight of mental and physical devastation, I fell apart for a very long time.

After signing the divorce papers, my very first thought was that Vincent didn't want me anymore, so I might as well die.

Over the next year, I tried to end my life countless times.

Yet, miraculously, I survived every single attempt.

The closest call left my wrist slit and a pool of blood soaking the floorboards.

The cleaning lady found me just in time.

She dialed 911, and I was rushed to the emergency room once again.

During that month in the hospital, I existed like a ghost.

Every day, I stared blankly out the window, refusing to eat or speak.

A little sparrow frequently appeared on the ledge outside, hurling itself against the glass with all its tiny might.

In that dead-silent ward, that was the only sound.

My mother came to visit me. The moment she saw me, she burst into tears.

"Serena, please let yourself go. Just let it go."

"Stop torturing yourself like this. Mom is begging you."

The graying, middle-aged woman wrapped her arms around my waist, weeping uncontrollably.

Something shifted in my chest. Tears spilled over my hands, scalding hot, burning right through to my core.

She was right. I shouldn't be destroying myself like this.

My mother's love became the backbone that held me upright and kept me alive.

I began to live properly again. I ate my meals, went to sleep on time, and took care of myself.

Three months after I was discharged, Vincent suddenly showed up on my doorstep.

He told me he regretted it. He regretted ever divorcing me.

He claimed that during our year apart, he had thought about me every single day.

"Serena, I can't live without you. Can we please start over?"

He sounded remarkably sincere.

Sunlight filtered through his long lashes, casting soft shadows across his face. For a split second, I thought I was looking at the Vincent who had once loved me more than life itself.

Late-blooming devotion is cheaper than dirt.

So I turned him down.

I needed to move forward. I had clawed my way out of that hellhole; I wasn't stupid enough to jump back in.

My rejection was met with cold retaliation.

He set a trap for my father.

My dad was a simple, honest butcher who ran a small meat stall. Out of nowhere, he got roped into high-stakes underground gambling.

He racked up debts so massive he could never pay them off in this lifetime.

Just as the loan sharks threatened to chop off my father's hand, Vincent swooped in.

Playing the noble savior, he cleared every cent of my father's debt.

He said he had only one condition:

I had to remarry him, and I had to give him a child.