Chapter 1

On our wedding anniversary, my wife gave me a cat as a gift.

She knew damn well that I had a severe cat dander allergy that once landed me in the ICU.

I handed the cat over to my lawyer friend in exchange for a draft of divorce papers.

Her kept boytoy cornered me and whined, "Blame me for picking the wrong gift. Punish me however you want, just do not make Peyton sad."

Peyton pulled the sniffling boy away and sneered at me with pure disgust. "You are pushing forty, Austin. You are washed up. Why are you acting so petty?"

It suddenly dawned on me.

Hitting middle age, I was no longer allergic to cats.

Just like I no longer loved her.

1

After that day, I went away on a trip, only returning two months later.

Seeing me drag my suitcase through the door with a refreshed face, Peyton looked utterly repulsed.

Just like the withered roses on our patio, our marriage had reached its bitter end.

"Do you really have nothing better to do? Are you a child, playing runaway husband with me?"

Peyton never bothered to hide her disgust.

It was just like her initial passion for me―it flared up fast and burned out even faster.

I had spent two months abroad clearing my head, carefully weighing our future.

She had only texted me a few days ago, finally realizing I was not home.

Maybe she still thought I was the same obedient dog who jumped whenever she whistled.

I said nothing.

I simply placed the signed divorce papers on the coffee table in front of her.

"Do you have any idea how old you are?"

I did not miss the mocking smirk in her eyes.

"Still playing the divorce drama card? Grow up."

I stared at her and quietly sank into the opposite armchair.

Noticing my unusual silence, she let out an impatient sigh.

"Chase did not know about your dislike. He already apologized, so why are you still holding a grudge?"

A dislike?

I was deathly allergic to cats. He knew, but she chose to forget.

I shook my head without a word. She tossed a tablet onto the table, displaying a photo of the newest luxury watch.

"I will make it up to you with a new gift. Pick one."

My chest tightened with a sharp, dull ache.

Just a few months ago, I had seen that exact watch on Chase's wrist.

On my last birthday, Peyton gave me a watch from the same brand, but it was an outdated model from several seasons ago.

Back then, I did not care about the price tag because I treasured anything she gave me.

I was still wearing that hand-me-down watch right now.

It was pathetic, really. I had wondered why Chase suddenly upgraded his watch back then. It turned out his castoff had been gifted to me.

Disgusted, I unbuckled the watch and slammed it onto the glass table.

As I stood up, I accidentally knocked over a fruit knife.

The sharp blade grazed my forearm, drawing a thin line of crimson.

The stinging cut and the slow trickle of blood made my mind sharper than ever.