Chapter 2

Joyce and I had been married for three years, and up until this incident, our relationship had been quite good.

A while ago, she brought home this cat, saying she had just found it, feeling sorry for it.

I believed her and took care of the cat, feeding it carefully and even making sure to clean its litter as soon as I came home from work each day.

Who would have thought I was just being a fool, doing everything for someone else?

I even almost lost my life today because of it.

Tears streamed uncontrollably from my eyes. I shut them, feeling utterly disappointed in Joyce.

Once we arrived at the hospital, the tension I had been holding in released, and I passed out completely.

I didn't know how much time had passed when I slowly regained consciousness. My right hand was wrapped in several thick layers of bandages.

"We spent a long time resuscitating you. You mustn't let this hand get injured again, or it will be permanently damaged," the doctor said, his voice full of concern.

He continued with a serious tone, "Rest well. If you get through the next few days, there may be a chance for recovery."

I nodded gratefully. After they left, I instinctively reached for my phone to call Joyce.

But then I remembered she was the one who had hurt me, and the excitement I initially felt turned into bitterness.

I closed my eyes in exhaustion, ready to rest, but Joyce called me.

"I paid for the ambulance ride earlier. Transfer the money to me, I still need it.

"The doctor already told me you're fine. It was just a minor injury, right? You were just pretending to be so dramatic!"

I clenched my phone tightly, my voice trembling.

"You're the one who hurt me, and now you want me to transfer money? Joyce, do you even have a heart?

"Also, you still haven't explained why you're helping your ex-boyfriend take care of a cat?"

I had been rushed into the emergency room, and she still thought I was faking it.

My disappointment deepened, my throat tightened, and tears once again filled my eyes.

The line fell silent for a few seconds, and then I faintly heard some voices, a man's voice.

I couldn't make out the words, but I could tell Joyce was with Samuel.

Just as I was about to hang up, Joyce finally spoke, "So now you dare speak to me like this? Samuel and I are just friends. He went abroad and left Luna with me for a few days. It's just a small favor between friends. Is that so hard to understand?

"I've been considerate of you. If I didn't worry about you getting jealous, why would I have lied and told you Luna was a stray?"

Hearing that, my heart hurt uncontrollably.

No wonder, a month ago, Joyce started using business trips as an excuse, and the number of nights she stayed out kept increasing.

During that time, her behavior became erratic. She kept her phone glued to her hand and was unusually defensive toward me.

I had suspected something. After seeing the diamond ring on her finger, I even asked her about it.

But every time, Joyce found a way to brush it off.

At that moment, I already had a bad feeling in my gut, but I chose to trust her.

I had been in love with her for seven years, ever since I first saw her at university.

Later, when her family faced a crisis and she was dumped by Samuel, she had a breakdown and tried to take her own life.

I happened to be there to save her, helping her through her family's troubles and resolving the crisis.

Joyce was moved by me, and six months later, she proposed to me.

Though her temper grew worse after we married, and she frequently nitpicked at me, I stayed by her side without complaint, giving all my heart and love.

But now, I suddenly didn't want to keep lying to myself and holding onto this relationship.

"You don't have to worry about me anymore, Joyce. Let's get a divorce."