Chapter 1

After being married to Julian for seven years, I always assumed the "seven-year itch" was nothing more than an empty myth.

That was until the daughter of the man who saved his life walked into our world.

At first, I didn't think much of it. She was just a young girl, after all.

Gradually, her name began to slip into every conversation Julian had.

He memorized all her likes and dislikes, tolerated every single one of her interruptions, and catered to her every whim.

He even abandoned me on our rare anniversary dinner, leaving me alone at the table just because she made one phone call.

Whenever I confronted him, his excuse was always the same:

"Chloe's father took a hit to save my life. Treating her well is the least I can do for him."

What Julian failed to realize was that, somewhere along the line,

he had stopped calling the deceased man his savior—he only referred to him as Chloe’s dad.

It was our seventh wedding anniversary.

The crowd in the restaurant gradually thinned out. I looked down at my phone.

Julian was two hours late.

When the waiter came over for the third time to ask if I wanted to order, I forced a tight smile.

"Just a little longer, please. My husband will be here soon."

Right on cue, my screen lit up with a text from Julian.

*Scarlett, I'm so sorry. Chloe had an emergency at her college campus, and I need to rush over. Go ahead and eat without me. Don't wait up.*

The warmth in my fingertips vanished in an instant.

Chloe. Chloe Vance.

Her again.

Ever since Chloe’s father—Julian’s so-called savior—passed away, that name had invaded every crack and crevice of my life.

In the beginning, Julian only checked in on her occasionally.

Later on, a single word from Chloe was enough to pull him away from whatever he was doing.

Still, I never imagined he would leave me stranded on our anniversary.

I stared at the message for a long time. Finally, I flagged down the server.

"Check, please. Cancel the food."

I returned to a pitch-black house.

Expressionless, I sat on the living room sofa, staring into the dark.

At one in the morning, a key turned in the front door lock.

Julian walked in, carrying the chill of the night air, his face filled with lingering worry and exhaustion.

He froze when he saw me sitting in the dark.

"Scarlett? Why aren't you in bed?"

"What was wrong with Chloe?" I asked coldly.

He took off his coat, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather.

"Nothing serious. Just a fight with her roommates. The poor girl was crying her eyes out all alone in the city, so I went to comfort her."

"That’s your idea of an emergency?"

"Our seventh anniversary couldn't even compete with a college girl crying over a roommate spat?"

I lifted my head and locked eyes with him.

In seven years of marriage, I had rarely spoken to him with such venom.

Julian frowned.

"Scarlett, don't be like this. It's just an anniversary. I'll make it up to you tomorrow."

I stared at him blankly. Right on schedule, here came the familiar excuse.

"Her father died saving my life."

"She’s all alone in this city for school. If I don't look out for her, who will?"

"We can have dinner anytime, but she was in the middle of..."

"She needed you," I finished his sentence for him.

He paused, looking at me with slight surprise.

"Scarlett, you're a grown woman. Why are you picking a fight over a little girl?"

"Anyway, it's late. Go to sleep."

He turned and headed for the bathroom, leaving me behind in the cold.

Watching his retreating figure, an old memory flashed into my mind.

Last winter, I came down with a 103-degree fever and called him.

Because he was in a business conference out of town, he merely told me to drink plenty of fluids and rest.

Back then, he said:

"Scarlett, you've always been independent and mature. You can take care of yourself."

Right. I had always been mature.

And that was why I deserved to be ignored.