Chapter 1

On our seventh wedding anniversary, the police called me to come to the station.

A couple had reported that my company's products gave their child food poisoning.

The wife was Mary.

The husband was Terry.

I froze, because my husband's name was also Terry.

When I arrived at the police station, I saw Terry with his arm around a woman. He lit a cigarette:

"I have a three-year-old child with her. That's how it is."

I smiled and pulled out the divorce papers I'd prepared four years ago:

"You can sign them now."

Mary left the police station in tears, carrying her son.

Because I'd argued her into silence.

Faced with my legal knowledge, she broke down crying in frustration.

When we got home, I strode ahead while Terry followed with a frown:

"Could you have a better attitude? What kind of ability is bullying a mother and child!"

"Bullying?"

I whirled around:

"There's nothing wrong with my company's food. She obviously fed her child something he shouldn't have eaten and wanted to frame me to get compensation! Can't you see that!

"Who's bullying who!"

Terry frowned.

I stepped forward:

"You know perfectly well how clean my formula is, yet you still helped them report me."

I laughed coldly, looking at him with mockery: "You really haven't changed."

He let out a sigh:

"Lisa, sometimes you really lack empathy."

I froze.

"The child is only three. She's a first-time mother. When he got food poisoning so badly, of course she panicked.

"Instead of being understanding, you seized on a single mother's small mistake and wouldn't let it go.

"You..."

He looked me up and down.

His lips suddenly curved into a mocking smile:

"You're not fit to be a mother. No wonder you can't understand how parents feel."

I stared at him in disbelief.

The next second—crack! My palm landed hard across his face.

"Terry! Why can't I be a mother! Don't you know?!"

Terry seemed to finally remember, lowering his eyes to avoid my gaze.

But I wouldn't let him off:

"Back in school, when you got drunk and fought with those guys, they came at you with a broken bottle.

"I blocked it for you! The bottle stabbed my abdomen, that's why I can't get pregnant!"

Guilt flickered across Terry's face.

I smiled bitterly:

"If I'd known you were fighting those guys over Mary that day, I would never have saved you."

Terry's throat bobbed:

"...I'm sorry... I said the wrong thing."

"You've said a lot of wrong things these past seven years."

I looked at him:

"Frankly, you just don't take me or our marriage seriously.

"Otherwise, you wouldn't have said something like that without thinking.

"Have you ever said the wrong thing to Mary?" He fell silent.

I answered for him: "Of course not."

"I..."

"Terry."

I cut him off: "Don't make excuses.

"Not taking it seriously means not taking it seriously, just like when I said I'd give you one last chance."

I looked at my name on his chest.

I laughed coldly:

"You just paid lip service to cherishing our last opportunity."

"I've already taken things underground with her. What more do you want?"