When my boyfriend was at his poorest, I broke up with him years later. He became successful and used every means possible to marry me. Everyone said I was his white moonlight, his most beloved wife. Until he started bringing different women home every night, breaking my heart and turning me into the laughingstock of our social circle. But I didn’t cry or make a scene.
I quietly moved into the study and stayed out of his way, never interrupting whatever game he was playing.
That only made him angrier.
One night, he grabbed my face and kissed me so hard it hurt, his voice rough with fury.
“Ava, are you really not jealous at all?”
He didn’t know I was sick.
While Ethan Shaw spent every day taking revenge on me, I was silently counting down how many days I had left to live.
By the third year of our marriage, Ethan had kept a young college student by his side for over six months.
Her name was Chloe Quinn.
She was pretty in that sweet, innocent way men like Ethan always fell for—big bright eyes, soft features, a smile that could make people lower their guard. Out of all the women he’d brought around after marrying me, she was the one who lasted the longest.
My friends warned me to be careful.
“They say Ethan’s serious about this one.”
I didn’t answer.
The first time I met Chloe was on my birthday.
That morning, I’d had another nosebleed.
It had started the second I woke up, blood dripping warm over my lips and down my hand, staining the sink pink before I could even grab a tissue. By then I was used to it. I tilted my head back, pressed a towel to my nose, and waited for the dizziness to pass.
Then I went to the hospital alone.
The doctor looked at my latest test results for a long time before taking off his glasses.
“At most, maybe until next spring,” he said carefully.
I nodded.
My voice was soft when I answered. “That’s okay. I’m not afraid of dying.”
That wasn’t completely true.
I was afraid of pain.
I hesitated, then asked, “There’s a medication, right? The expensive one. The one that can at least make things easier for a while.”
The doctor nodded.
I already knew I didn’t have enough money.
So I went to Ethan’s company.
I needed cash.
I found Chloe there before I found him.
She had just graduated and was now working as his secretary. Ethan was in a meeting, so I sat outside his office to wait. Chloe stood nearby, openly looking me up and down before turning to whisper to the employees around her.
“So that’s the boss’s wife?”
Her voice wasn’t quiet enough.
“She’s so plain. Honestly… she looks dried out. Sickly. Like she could drop dead any minute. You all said I looked like her? In what universe? I’m way prettier.”
The floor-to-ceiling window reflected my image back at me.
No makeup. Loose sweater. Oversized coat. Thin face. Pale lips.
She wasn’t wrong.
I looked awful.
One of the employees nervously tugged at Chloe’s sleeve and lowered her voice.
“She’s not dressed up today. When she does dress up, ten of you together still wouldn’t compare. And don’t push your luck just because the boss spoils you. You have no idea how much he cares about her. If you really upset her, he’ll destroy you.”
I almost laughed.
So Ethan still had a reputation for loving me.
Chloe clearly didn’t believe it. She rolled her eyes, then came over a few minutes later with a cup of tea in both hands and a sugary smile on her face.
“Sis,” she said sweetly, “how could Mr. Shaw bear to leave you waiting this long? That’s so strange. Whenever I go see him, no matter how busy he is, he always makes time for me right away. He says I’m the most important.”
She tilted her head and smiled wider.
“For a moment, I thought maybe he treated all women this gently.”
She looked so much like a younger version of me that it almost made my chest ache.
I thought about it.
Ethan really had treated her differently.
He took her to dinner. Shopping. Movies.
He gave her money, yes—but he also gave her time.
And men like Ethan only gave time to the women they wanted to keep.
So I smiled back at her and asked gently, “If you’re that important to him, then why would he let someone so important stay in the shadows as a mistress? You should convince him to divorce me sooner and marry you properly.”
Her face changed instantly.
She lowered her voice and snapped, “The person who isn’t loved is the real third wheel. You’re the extra one here.”
Then she sneered.
“You just met him a few years earlier than I did. That’s all. But now? You’re old, you’re ugly, and you’re half-dead looking. What exactly are you using to compete with me?”
The employee beside her looked terrified and tried to drag her away.
But I didn’t get angry.
A long time ago, I made a promise to myself.
I would never get angry because of Ethan again.
I would never cry because of Ethan again.
And I would never fight another woman for a man like him.
He wasn’t worth it.
In the struggle, Chloe lost her footing. The tea cup slipped from her hand, shattered against the floor, and a sharp shard sliced into her palm.
Blood spread across the tile.
Inside the glass-walled conference room, Ethan saw it.
Everyone did.
He threw down the papers in his hand, pushed open the door, and crossed the room in seconds. Then he crouched beside Chloe and pulled her into his arms.
His face was cold.
“Who the hell hurt her?”
The employee who’d tried to pull Chloe away backed up in panic.
I looked at Ethan and said flatly, “I did. And she deserved it.”
Chloe’s eyes immediately filled with tears.
She looked at me, then up at Ethan, and cried out in a trembling voice, “Yes, I deserved it. Who told me to fall for someone I shouldn’t? They can call me a mistress, call me shameless, call me whatever they want—but as long as you love me too, Mr. Shaw, I’ll stay by your side forever. No one can separate us.”
It was ridiculous.
But when she said it, she looked brave.
Adorable, even.
Ethan actually laughed.
He brushed away her tears with his thumb and murmured, “Look at you. You’ve cried yourself into a little mess.”
He was different with her.
Truly different.
I lowered my eyes and stopped watching.
Then I looked at him and said, “For my birthday this year, I want five hundred thousand dollars.”
It sounded absurd, asking my husband for money while he held another woman in his arms.
But Ethan and I had never even saved each other’s phone numbers.
Before marriage, we’d made an agreement.
He wanted me.
I wanted his money.
At least, that was what he believed.
He’d always hated me for being a gold digger.
Even so, in the past, whenever I asked him for money, he gave it to me. More than I requested, never less.
Only this time, he smiled.
Slowly. Coldly.
“You want money? Fine. Lower that proud head of yours first and apologize to Chloe.”
For a moment, the room went silent.
So that was what this was.
He wanted to buy my dignity with money.
He wanted to use five hundred thousand dollars to purchase one apology for another woman.
It was the first time he’d ever used money to humiliate me for someone else.
My fingers curled slowly into a fist.
Pain rose sharply through my body, hot and familiar, but I forced myself to smile.
“Then forget it,” I said.
I turned and walked away.
I didn’t want the money anymore.
But on the ride home, one thought kept circling in my head.
If one day Ethan found out that the money he refused me could have bought me a little more time… if he ever found out how much pain I’d suffered before death…
What kind of face would he make then?