Chapter 1

I accidentally saw a "mistress registry" in the company group email.

Next to my husband Ethan Parker's name was his childhood sweetheart, the same age as him.

In the evidence column, there was a screenshot of a chat.

The childhood sweetheart asked him: "How long has it been since you touched that old lady?"

He replied: "Don't mention it. Now when I look at the company's interns, I find them so youthful and vibrant."

"But when I go home and face her wrinkled face, I always feel there's an elderly odor."

I'm already thirty-six, eight years older than him.

But I don't think I'm old yet.

After coming to my senses, I decisively handed him divorce papers.

Without me, his older sister figure, charging ahead, Ethan Parker lost his job and dignity, and reluctantly tried to keep me.

I pinched my nose and said mockingly: "Why is there a smell of poverty here?"

When I saw that "mistress registry", Ethan Parker was playing games in the study.

I placed the warmed milk beside him, reminding him to drink it soon.

He impatiently said: "I know, you go rest first."

I casually scrolled on my phone, the page stopping right on his name.

Olivia Quinn's name was prefixed to his.

And for several rows after, there was all kinds of substantial evidence of her being his mistress.

My gaze focused on the words "elderly odor" for a long time, until my hand was almost numb.

My heart ached, and my mind went blank.

Until a game ended, Ethan Parker cursed softly and reached for the milk.

But he accidentally spilled it.

The milk spilled all over me.

Ethan Parker finally had time to look up at me: "You haven't left yet?"

He frowned, his eyes showing a hint of disgust: "Tsk, what a strong smell. Go take a shower quickly."

The three words from the chat screenshot instantly became sharp arrows in reality.

They pierced through the void, stabbing fiercely into my chest.

In a daze, I suddenly realized a problem.

Ethan Parker hadn't touched me for a very long time.