Chapter 3After I'm Cured of Obsession, My Wife Snaps

There were countless notes like these, filling the drawer from top to bottom. I stared at the words in silence, each one a small record of a life I had once treasured—the things she had said, the things she had wanted, and all the ridiculous little ways I had tried to make her happy. Together, they held years of memories I had once believed would last forever.

Then the drawer slid shut.

At the same moment, the room seemed to grow darker.

The next day, I showed up at Eleanor's company with my lawyer and asked to see her. Just as expected, I was immediately turned away.

I didn't argue. I simply waved a hand, and someone brought me a lounge chair. I sat down, put on my sunglasses, and started playing the recording of our conversation about the company shares from the day before. I set it on repeat and let it play over and over for everyone in the lobby to hear.

Eleanor and I had founded this company together. The shares I was asking for weren't some outrageous demand. They were what I was rightfully entitled to.

The company's executives exchanged uneasy glances as the recording continued to play. By the eighth time it came around, Eleanor finally emerged from the building. She grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me into her office before shoving me inside, her eyes burning with anger.

"Daniel, what the hell are you trying to do?"

I took off my sunglasses and frowned slightly.

"Exactly what I've been saying from the beginning: I want the shares, and I want a divorce. Ms. Hayes, I have to say, your lack of reading comprehension is concerning."

Instead of getting angry, Eleanor lowered her head and laughed. When she looked back at me, her eyes were filled with open mockery.

"Daniel, if you're trying to win me back, couldn't you come up with something a little more original?"

Her reaction wasn't surprising. The last time Charles had a high fever, I'd threatened her with divorce just to get her to come home. The time before that, Charles had done nothing more than sprain his ankle, yet I'd acted like a madman, refusing to let it go simply because she had driven him home.

Both times, it had ended the same way: I'd eventually lowered my head, apologized, and backed down.

"Have you ever heard the story about the boy who cried wolf?"

I stepped back as she leaned closer.

"Don't want to choose? Fine." I gave her a cold smile. "I believe tonight is your birthday party. So, I'll give you a gift you've been dreaming about for a long time."

This time, Eleanor didn't try to stop me from leaving. Instead, she stood beside the bookshelf with her arms crossed, looking completely confident in herself.

Then she picked up the phone resting nearby. The call was still connected.

"You heard that, right? Daniel still has feelings for me. He even remembered my birthday and prepared a gift. He was just throwing a tantrum."

A man's voice came through the phone, but Eleanor cut him off before he could respond.

"And don't give me that nonsense about some system somehow mechanically removing his feelings for me. That's not even scientifically possible. How could Daniel just stop loving me like that?"

A helpless sigh came from the other end.

After a long silence, the man finally said, "Eleanor, don't take this too far.

I heard what she said about me throwing a tantrum, but I didn't slow my steps as I walked away. Instead, the corners of my mouth curled into a faint smile.

I just hoped she'd be able to stay that calm when she saw the gift.

…

Eleanor's birthday party that evening was extravagant, drawing the city's elite under one roof.

The moment I stepped into the ballroom, I spotted Charles in a black tuxedo, carrying himself like the man of the house as he moved effortlessly through the crowd, a glass of red wine in his right hand.

The moment the guests noticed me, their expressions shifted. One by one, their eyes flicked between Charles and me, curiosity written plainly across their faces.

Ignoring the stares, I walked straight toward Eleanor and held out an exquisitely wrapped gift box.

She had been lost in thought, but she seemed to sense my presence and looked up. Our eyes met, and for a brief moment, I caught a flicker of nervousness in her gaze.

Then she noticed the gift in my hands, and something changed. A faint trace of anticipation appeared in her eyes—an expression she didn't seem to realize she'd revealed.

Before either of us could say a word, Charles let out a quiet scoff, just loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.