Chapter 1

1 I was hospitalized with a high fever, but my wife, Sarah, yanked out my IV and dragged me out of the hospital.

All because her assistant, Ashley, was drunk and needed me to make her hangover soup.

I begged her to let me go later, when I felt better, but she called me a drama queen.

After making the soup, I was drenched in cold sweat from the fever, and I pleaded with her to take me back to the hospital, but she didn't even glance at me.

""A grown man, such a drama queen! It's just a cold. Get out, and don't bother me!""

I had no choice but to leave, my body weak and aching.

I barely made it to the street before I collapsed.

A passerby called 911. At the hospital, the doctors called Sarah repeatedly, but she kept hanging up.

Alone, I endured the agonizing pain and fever. Later, I saw a post on Ashley’s Instagram.

""My boss thought I had a fever and actually took a cold shower to try and cool me down through body contact! So silly!""

""Such a clueless but sweet boss �C I’d work my butt off for her!""

I silently liked the post, then immediately contacted a lawyer to start divorce proceedings and get out of LA.

But Sarah, unable to find me, started crying.

...

After I was discharged, I went on a solo trip to Hawaii to clear my head.

Sarah didn't call me once.

Ashley, however, continued to post loved-up photos with Sarah.

I gave up, no longer holding onto any hope.

When I got home, the lights were on.

I thought Sarah had realized she was wrong and left them on for me.

But when I opened the door, I saw it was just wishful thinking.

Liam, Sarah’s assistant, was lounging on the couch in my robe, sipping wine and watching TV.

He froze when he saw me, then smirked and walked over.

""Sorry, man! My place burned down, so I’m crashing here for a bit. Don't get any ideas.""

I said nothing, just stared at him coldly. His smirk widened.

""Looking for Sarah?"" Liam chuckled. ""She’s making me her famous BBQ ribs!""

Just then, Sarah came out of the kitchen with a plate of burnt ribs, offering them up like some kind of prize. ""Try my cooking!""

My heart sank.

In all our years of marriage, Sarah never cooked for me.

Not even when I was sick with a high fever. I always cooked for her, worried about her getting sick from takeout.

She told me girls shouldn’t cook because the fumes would make their skin bad.

I loved her and spoiled her, never asking her to lift a finger in the kitchen. She had it made.

But now, the girl I pampered for seven years was cooking for another man.

Happy to do it.

Sarah’s smile vanished when she noticed me. She stammered, ""Don’t get the wrong idea! Liam’s place burned down, so he's staying here temporarily.”

""If you mind, I can tell him to get a hotel.""

I looked at her and smiled. ""It doesn't matter.""

I was leaving anyway.