jackie_long

On my wife's birthday, I rushed back from another city overnight. But the one who opened the door was my male assistant, wearing my bathrobe. "Mr. Lucas, I came to report to Ms. Johnson, and accidentally got caught in the rain, so I took a shower. Please don't misunderstand." "There's nothing to explain." My wife, also in a bathrobe, walked out of the bathroom with a look of disdain on her face. Her gaze towards me was full of contempt. "Aren't you supposed to be on a business trip? Why are you back?" I paused for a moment, then shook my head and gave a light laugh. "It's nothing. Just came back to grab a few documents." I casually tossed the carefully chosen birthday gift into the trash bin, then sent a message to my lawyer. "Help me draft a divorce agreement."

Her first love's business venture crumbled, leaving his family in tatters. In a bid to clear his debts, she sold the home I had labored for countless nights to acquire, a sanctuary meant for our life together. The day I learned of my cancer, she flung Jack's depression report at me with a vengeance. "Jack is battling depression-do you grasp the gravity of that? It's just a house we're talking about, yet you act as if it's a death sentence. Your heart is ice; one day, karma will catch up with you." And it did, with merciless speed. I passed on, yet she clung to my urn with a ferocity that bordered on madness, as if she had lost all reason.