Chapter 1

To save my wife and daughter, I was severely injured and hospitalized. When it came time for family to sign for my surgery, my wife was at the cemetery visiting her first love's grave.

"You won't die without the surgery, but today is the anniversary of his death!" she said.

"Stop calling me!"

Every year on this day, my wife would visit the grave of her deceased love without fail, rain or shine.

I resigned myself and closed my eyes.

The moment she hung up, I could hear her breathing grow heavier.

"You're so bad!" she panted.

"Not only are you sleeping with someone else's wife at a gravesite, but you've let another man raise your daughter for four years."

The sounds of kissing and moaning grew louder in my ear...

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The phone crashed to the floor as my mind went blank. I fell out of the hospital bed in a daze.

Pulling out my IV, I rushed past the protesting nurses straight to Peaceful Hill Cemetery.

"Quick, stop! Someone's coming!"

A woman's seductive voice reached my ears.

I hid behind a gravestone, clenching my fists as I stared intently at the entangled figures in the darkness.

A cat darted past as the man teased:

"Even if it was a ghost, not just a person, you'd still have to be with me today. Besides, James is so badly burned - how could you stomach touching him?"

Olivia playfully pushed him:

"Don't be silly! I haven't let him touch me since the abortion."

Abortion? Two years ago, Olivia was pregnant with our second child.

Unlike the joy of her first pregnancy, she was depressed all the time.

I didn't think much of it then, trying my best to fulfill her wishes. Even when she hit and kicked me, I never complained.

Despite this, just after three months, we "accidentally" lost the baby.

My fingers dug into my palms until they drew blood.

"Not even once?" the man asked huskily.

Olivia laughed lightly: "I can tell the difference between true love and an ATM."

"Who would have thought that the cold, dignified CEO in public would beg like a dog in private, failing each time. He always had to take care of himself in the bathroom..."

Her mockery felt like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head.

After Olivia's miscarriage, she deliberately teased me.

When I finally made a move, she accused me of being "inconsiderate", blaming me for the miscarriage...

The man's movements quickened, drowning out Olivia's murmurs.

Lightning flashed, and the man's face overlapped with the photo on the gravestone.

Ethan Wilson. He wasn't dead.

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