Chapter 2

2.

After hanging up, I noticed Wendy was still in the bathroom, applying expensive night serums in front of the mirror.

Through the mist, the contrast struck me like a slap.

We were the exact same age, yet Wendy looked decades younger.

She frequented luxury spas and med-clinics, spending thousands on treatments. Her skin was porcelain smooth, entirely free of wrinkles.

We only had one child. When she had an unexpected pregnancy years ago, she threw a massive fit, furious that it would ruin her figure.

To preserve her body, she underwent a medical procedure to terminate it, and the very next day, she forced me to get a vasectomy.

Time had barely touched her.

She still carried the romantic, carefree heart of a young woman chasing fairy tales.

Meanwhile, I had grown old and gray. Chronic fatigue and underlying conditions had wrecked my metabolism, leaving me worn out and exhausted.

Time was fair to no one. She had simply drained the life out of me to maintain her own youth.

Right then, a memory flashed across my mind. I realized I had seen Harrison before.

Years ago, his profile was featured on the cover of a prominent business journal.

He was dressed in a sharp designer suit, looking refined and distinguished.

I remember pointing at the old photo back then, showing Wendy with admiration.

"He is from our hometown, you know? It is incredible that such a poor area produced an overseas scholar."

"Studying abroad must have cost a fortune. Getting through undergraduate and graduate school overseas without serious backing is impossible."

Wendy had acted indifferent, but her eyes lingered on the picture, glowing with pride and admiration.

"True talent always shines," she had said softly. "He came from humble beginnings, but he was lucky enough to have a guardian angel supporting him."

"Comparing yourself to him will only make you miserable. Talent is innate. While he leads research labs, you will always be an ordinary laborer."

Her words had stung deeply back then.

I never imagined that the so-called guardian angel was my own wife.

"What are you staring at?" Wendy's sharp voice broke my train of thought.

She noticed my gaze and immediately furrowed her brows.

"Who gave you permission to scowl at me? If you do not want to sleep, get the hell out."

Seeing the dark expression on my face, Wendy assumed I was throwing a childish tantrum.

In the past, whenever she showed signs of anger, I would instantly lower my head, apologize, and promise never to cross her again.

Now, none of that mattered anymore.

I looked down at my phone, scrolling through the case files my lawyer friend had sent regarding asset division in divorce.

The text was blurry. My cheap phone was so old that the screen was spiderwebbed with cracks.

Unable to handle being ignored, Wendy snatched the phone from my hands and smashed it onto the hard floor.

"Caleb! Are you trying to ruin this family or what?" she roared.

"It was just three grand a month! It is not like I gave him millions. That little bit of money is barely charity, so what is your problem?"

A wave of deep sorrow washed over me.

Even now, Wendy stubbornly believed that this was purely about the money.

She never stopped to ask herself the real question.

If I were truly a greedy, shallow man, why would I have tolerated her reckless spending for thirty entire years?

My heart burned, and I met her bloodshot eyes with absolute certainty.

"Wendy, this divorce is happening. No matter what."

Hearing me mention divorce again, Wendy's face turned livid, and she struck me across the face with the back of her hand.

"Have you not embarrassed us enough?"

"What am I supposed to tell our neighbors and relatives?"

"Maya is about to get engaged! Her future in-laws are visiting soon. Pulling this stunt right now―are you trying to destroy your own daughter's happiness?"

She shrieked hysterically. There was no remorse, no guilt.

Her mind was entirely consumed with saving face and dreading public humiliation.

Nobody cared about what I was going through.

My chest felt hollow, like a gaping wound letting in the freezing wind.

I stared at the woman I had devoted three decades of my life to, overcome with immense grief.

"Wendy, ask yourself honestly: who kept this household standing all these years?"

"When your mother needed sixty thousand dollars for her liver transplant, I sold my family's ancestral property, drained every cent of my pre-marital savings, and took on fifteen thousand in debt just to save her life!"

"When Maya failed to get into a public high school and needed a hundred thousand for private academy tuition, I took on ten punishing sales routes. I drank until my stomach bled, went two weeks without proper sleep, and nearly dropped dead at my desk!"

"Do you think money just falls from the sky? Over all these years, haven't you created enough financial disasters? Which one of them did I not grit my teeth and clean up for you?"

Wendy stood frozen, unable to utter a single word. Her hysterical crying ended up waking Maya.

"Dad, I am begging you, stop making a scene," Maya said with a heavy sigh, her expression dripping with irritation.

"You are a man. Providing for the family is your basic duty, so do not try to guilt-trip us with it."

"You cannot blame Mom for having preferences. You do not even measure up to a single hair on Uncle Harrison's head. Anyone with half a brain would know who to choose."

Her cold words doused my lingering rage in freezing water.

I stared at the face that looked so much like Wendy's.

The phantom pain in my missing fingertips began to throb again.

When Maya was ten, she was hit by a speeding car and suffered catastrophic injuries.

I borrowed money from every relative and friend I knew, but we were still two hundred dollars short for the emergency surgery.

Wendy sat by the hospital bed, crying and browsing through cemetery plots, but I refused to give up on my girl.

I heard that workplace injuries paid immediate compensation, so that very night, I thrust my hand into an industrial machine on the factory floor.

In the end, my child survived, and I walked away with a permanent disability.

I was never able to do heavy manual labor again.

Back then, I thought losing two fingers was worth saving her life.

Looking back now, every sacrifice I made was completely meaningless.