Chapter 1

The year I was in a car accident, my boyfriend, Matthew Sinclair, donated more than half of his blood to save my life. He even knelt before the altar for three days and nights, praying that I would make it through safely.

When I regained consciousness in the hospital, the first thing I did was accept his marriage proposal.

He was overjoyed. He personally decorated the wedding venue, and we tied the knot in London.

A video of our $100 million wedding went viral online, and everyone believed he was madly in love with me.

I thought so too. So, in our first year, I gave birth to a son, and Matthew named him Matthias Sinclair.

He told me that the name was made by combining the word from both our names. I was so happy, my heart feeling as sweet as honey.

Year after year went by. People talk about the seven-year itch, but Matthew and I only grew more in love.

The year our son turned seven, he even won first place in a piano competition. He proudly handed me his certificate.

"My success is all thanks to you, Mom. Without you, I wouldn't be where I am today."

But that very night, I saw with my own eyes that Matthew, the man who loved me more than his own life, holding another woman in his arms.

And my dear son stood in front of her, smiling as he looked up and handed her his trophy.

***

"Miss Hayes, once you sign this divorce agreement, it will become legally binding. Are you sure you don't want to discuss it with Mr. Sinclair first?"

I shook my head slightly and replied calmly, "He doesn't have time."

At this moment, he was probably taking our son to keep another woman company. How would he have time to come here?

I sneered inwardly and said to the lawyer, "There are still seven days before the agreement takes effect. I don't want him to find out during that time."

Since Matthew and my dear son liked that woman so much, I’d give them a gift they would never forget.

After leaving the coffee shop, I went back to the empty house. Matthew and our son still hadn't come home.

I booked a plane ticket to leave the country seven days later. Then my eyes fell on the family photo hanging on the wall.

I still remembered the day we went to the photo studio. Our son had insisted on sitting between Matthew and me.

He held both our hands, so well-behaved yet clingy. "Mommy, they say families who take pictures together never get separated. We'll stay together forever."

Matthew kissed my forehead and our son's, smiling fondly. "What silly talk. Look at the camera."

I had been so happy that day. The photo captured us in our happiest moment.

Matthew had spent a fortune on a custom-made frame for the picture. Now, it hung right where anyone could see it the moment they entered the house.

I looked up at it as countless warm memories flashed through my mind, I couldn't help finding it all deeply ironic.

On our wedding day, Matthew had spent 150 million dollars to marry me. He had even secretly arranged the wedding venue himself, and spending a staggering 100 million dollars on it alone.

On the wedding stage, he held me and sobbed so hard he could barely speak. "As long as I have you, I don't need anyone else in this life. Once we're married, I'll give you a home."

I was deeply moved, tears streaming down my face.

The night I gave birth to our son, the pain became so unbearable that I could barely breathe. I nearly died in my sleep.

Matthew was the first to find me. With tears in his eyes, he rushed my blood-covered body into the operating room, muttering over and over, "Celestia, if anything happens to you, I don't want to live either."

When I finally woke up, I overheard the family members of other patients nearby teasing him.

"This must be his first time being a father. Talking about dying and all, it's not that serious. My dear, you’re so lucky to have a good husband like him."

When the baby started wailing, he rushed in and immediately looked at me. He gripped my hand tightly, his eyes in tears and his face full of lingering fear.

"Celestia, I don't want any more kids. I'll get a vasectomy. We're never having another baby."

Giving birth had been agonizing, but I'd never felt happier.

After our baby was born, Matthew made a habit of reading books about caring for new mothers and babies every day.

He worked from home because he didn't trust anyone else to look after us. He took care of everything himself and lost a full eleven pounds in a month.

As Matthias grew up, he always put me first. Whenever he came home from school, the first person he looked for was me.

Once, when he had a cold, I held him in my arms. In a soft little voice, he said, "Mommy, I have a cold, so I won't sleep with you."

"I don't want you to catch it and get sick too."

At that moment, a warm feeling swept through my heart. Having Matthew and Matthias was the greatest happiness of my life.

But I never expected that three days ago, I would receive a video.

In the video, my sweet, well-behaved son was looking up at another woman with admiration and calling her Mommy.

What I never expected was that all those times Matthew used piano lessons as an excuse to take our son out, he had actually been building a cozy little home with another woman behind my back.

Eight years married, we had made it past the seven-year itch, yet Matthew hadn't been able to resist temptation. He and our son had deceived me all along.

My phone chimed. The screen lit up with a message from Matthew.

Matthew: [Honey, Matthias and I will be home late. He has an extra lesson today.]

Then he sent a photo. The lighting was dim, bathed in a soft, warm yellow.

Another woman's figure appeared in the frame, seemingly captured by accident.

She sat gracefully at the piano, poised and elegant. Her profile breathtakingly beautiful in the shadows.

Whoever took the photo had put real care into it, capturing her beauty completely.

Beside her sat a small figure, seen only from behind. The two looked close and affectionate, just like a real mother and son.

Matthew proudly showed off the picture. [Honey, look. Didn't I take a beautiful shot?]

My chest suddenly tightened. I could hardly breathe as I stared at the photo.

It really was a beautiful shot. Even when we were madly in love, he had never put that much care into taking a picture of me.

He once told me he wasn't a patient person, and that pursuing me had taken every ounce of patience he had in this life.

Yet now, the man who had always been terrible at taking pictures had managed to take a photo worthy of a professional photographer.

For another woman, he had learned photography.