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I Saved the Man Who Betrayed Me
NovelShort
Hoàn thành
Ten years ago, I saved Tristan from his drunken father's beating—but the wine bottle he swung landed squarely on my eye and ear. He cried as he thanked me, promising he would take responsibility for...
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第1章
Ten years ago, I saved Tristan from his drunken father's beating—but the wine bottle he swung landed squarely on my eye and ear.
He cried as he thanked me, promising he would take responsibility for me for the rest of his life.
I was unconscious for three days. When I woke up, both my ears were deaf, my vision blurry, and a deep, jagged scar ran down my arm.
To prove his devotion, Tristan tattooed a matching scar and my name on his own arm.
In the ruthless world of business, he rose quickly, becoming the powerful and wealthy Attorney Martinez. And through it all, he stayed by my side, helping me through ten long years of treatments and surgeries.
At our wedding, he promised there would only ever be "widowhood, never divorce" between us.
One night, he got drunk at a celebration. The moment I received the call, I rushed from the hospital straight to the bar. But when I arrived, he suddenly yanked off my hearing aid.
"Jasmine, if I say this out loud, you have to be willing to admit defeat."
A soft voice answered from the shadows. "Of course."
It was Jasmine—Tristan's greatest rival and also his business partner.
Tristan's voice was gentle, but the words he said slithered out like venomous snakes.
"Celine, if it weren't for you back then, my father's million-dollar insurance payout would have already been settled. I wouldn't have had to struggle for all these years."
"If only you hadn't survived the rescue that day, I wouldn't have been stuck caring for a cripple for ten years. Every time I look at this tattoo, I feel sick..."
The crowd erupted into laughter, and Jasmine nodded with satisfaction.
Tristan looked triumphant as he turned and openly kissed her. "I'm traveling tomorrow. Will you stay with me tonight, Jasmine?"
She smiled and slipped a VIP room card into his hand with practiced ease.
When the party ended, Tristan gently put my hearing aid back on and massaged my tired eyes.
"Celine, don't come to bars anymore. The lights and noise aren't good for you."
Later that night, he sneaked out of the house.
I sat alone, clutching the medical report proving my recovery, and after a long silence, I drafted a divorce agreement.
I left my wedding ring and hearing aid on the table and booked a flight for a week later.
1
"Celine, if only you hadn't been saved that day, I wouldn't have had to take care of a disabled person for ten years just to maintain my reputation."
"Tattooing your name was the stupidest thing I've ever done."
Tristan's gentle expression remained unchanged as he spoke, and the entire room instantly erupted.
"Tristan is a real man. Ten years of charity care? I wouldn't last ten days."
"Too bad she can't hear. When her ears recover, you should whisper it to her. She'll cry for sure—another chance to play pitiful and win sympathy."
"Even if she did hear, what difference would it make? She's no better than a disabled person. Tristan is just kind enough to keep her."
Their mocking voices swarmed around me like flies.
My body felt as if all my bones had been snapped, and my bag slipped from my hand.
Inside was the gift I'd prepared for Tristan—the medical report announcing my full recovery.
I had planned to surprise him tonight. Instead, I heard the cruelest truth from him.
His words wrapped around me like snakes, tightening until my chest froze in agony.
My fingernails cut into my palms as the pain shot through my entire body.
I looked up at him, trying to speak, but no sound came out.
Seeing my trembling, voiceless attempt, the crowd burst into louder laughter.
Tristan merely toyed with my hearing aid and chuckled lazily.
"That's enough. Who told you all to mock her?"
"Celine is still my savior. I can say these things, but you're not allowed to say them to her face."
The laughter died instantly. No one dared another word.
So everything he said earlier... was just part of a truth-or-dare game?
From the corner of the room, a soft voice floated out.
"Atty. Martinez, I've really underestimated you."
A woman stepped into the spotlight—long, glossy hair, exquisite features dimmed only by fatigue.
Jasmine, the city's undefeated golden lawyer. Mysterious, powerful, and now attending a party hosted by her rival.
Tristan set down the hearing aid and cleared his throat.
"Since I dared to say this out loud, you have to be willing to admit defeat."
So it was just a dare.
I almost sighed in relief—until the next moment made everyone gasp.
Tristan strode over, wrapped an arm around Jasmine's waist, bent his back, and kissed her deeply.
Before she could even tease him, he could no longer restrain himself.
"A bet's a bet, Jasmine. I'm traveling tomorrow. Your punishment is to stay with me tonight."
No one was surprised, and the party carried on.
Only I stood out like I didn't belong.
The music blurred. My mind went blank—silent as a dead world.
In this truth-or-dare game, the punishment was to hurt me without mercy. The reward was a kiss I had never once received.
Lights flickered overhead, and though my vision had fully recovered, everything in front of me became impossible to see.
My throat was too dry to make a sound.
Jasmine's gentle voice drifted past like a breeze.
"Get some rest early tonight."
She nestled into his arms, lazy and sweet.
Before leaving, she slipped another VIP room card into his suit pocket with practiced ease.
One look from her, and the crowd nodded knowingly.
Tristan smacked his lips, savoring her taste.
A glance from him and his assistant dimmed the music and softened the lights.
"Celine, you still haven't fully recovered."
He put my hearing aid back on with infinite gentleness, even smiling.
The others chimed in. "Celine, Tristan just said the cheesiest love confessions. It gave us goosebumps!"
"He treats you so well—truly devoted!"
My eyes were already full of tears.
In the car, I rested my head on Tristan's lap as he gently massaged my eyes.
"Celine, don't come to bars again. They're bad for your eyes."
Slowly, I whispered, "Tristan... if I had died on that operating table that day... what kind of life would you be living now?"
第2章
Before I could finish my question, Tristan quickly pressed a hand over my mouth. "Shh."
"Don't say such unlucky things. If you weren't here, what meaning would my life even have?"
He thought I was upset about the hospital's routine checkup results and gently comforted me, telling me not to worry.
I stared at him coldly.
Just ten minutes ago, this same man had been cursing me—wishing I had died all those years ago. And now he was consoling me like a tender lover.
Everyone in the city knew how deeply Tristan loved me.
When he became the city's most sought-after attorney, he immediately announced our relationship to the media.
One night, I casually mentioned craving sticky rice cakes. He left instantly, driving five hours in the middle of a storm. When he returned at dawn, the cakes in his arms were still warm.
On New Year's Eve, tens of thousands of fireworks exploded across the night sky, forming my name. He stood atop the iron tower, smiling down at me as he shouted, "Happy New Year."
That night, just like always, he lulled me to sleep—and once I drifted off, he quietly slipped out through the door that led to the underground garage.
His silhouette—cold, distant, and mysterious—was visible through the reflection of the glass.
I clutched the medical report tightly as tears dripped onto the floor.
I had waited ten years for this day.
To hear his voice clearly.
To see his face without blur or distortion.
This had been my hidden wish for a decade. Yet the moment that dream finally came true, I couldn't breathe—because today, I heard the truth behind his "sweet words."
If his words tonight were lies, then how many lies had he fed me over the past ten years?
A crushing distrust clawed at my mind.
A taut string inside me suddenly snapped, then I remembered the detail I had ignored.
Three months ago, after taking a shower, I slipped and knocked over a pile of clothes. While feeling around the floor, my hand brushed against lace.
Lace...
A fabric I despised—too frivolous, too bold. I would never wear it. Yet somehow, it was in my home.
Tristan had rushed in anxiously when he didn't hear me moving, helped me up, and while dressing me, casually said it was a "new handkerchief."
Back then, I believed him.
That night, I turned on every light in the house and searched each of the eight bathrooms one by one.
In the small attic bathroom, I found it.
A delicate lace lingerie set.
A faint scent still clung to it—the same high-end perfume Jasmine had been wearing at the bar.
I placed the lingerie back where I found it, then turned and saw our framed photo sitting on the vanity.
My legs gave out.
I collapsed to the floor and cried until my lungs burned.
After we got married, he insisted on placing photos of us everywhere—saying he wanted to see me no matter where he turned.
...
Three hours later, I finally stopped shaking.
With a steady hand, I dialed the travel agency.
"Hello, I'd like to cancel the Maldives couple's tickets I booked yesterday."
"And... there's another service I want to arrange."
Outside, the deep winter night was unbearably cold.
But in the innermost VIP suite of a luxury hotel—the heat was suffocating.
The supposedly aloof and untouchable Attorney Jasmine was curled up in Tristan's arms like a contented cat.
A vivid red lipstick mark burned on her pale neck.
"Jasmine, being with you makes me truly happy." Tristan held the back of her head and kissed her fiercely—almost violently.
Jasmine teased him, "And compared to Celine?"
The air froze for a moment.
Tristan leaned back, instinctively pulling away as though a galaxy separated them.
"Don't mention Celine when we're together. You crossed the line."
"Don't forget our agreement." His eyes sharpened.
Realizing her mistake, Jasmine quickly forced a smile and joked about how pretty my hearing aids were.
"That was custom-made for Celine. It's worth a fortune. I even carved the little cat-paw pattern myself."
His voice softened, tinged with pride. He never forgot how surprised and overjoyed I looked when he gave them to me.
Jasmine's smile was stiff, but when she saw his expression relax, she let out a silent breath.
"For tomorrow's case... do you need my help, darling?"
"It involves multiple deaths. You've been exhausted lately—just get some rest."
第3章
The winter morning was bitterly cold.
Tristan had gotten up early, dressed, and pressed a deep kiss onto the sleeping Jasmine before heading to the airport.
My phone buzzed nonstop.
[Celine, are you awake?]
[I had an urgent business trip today, so I didn't wake you. The ointment you need is in the usual place.]
Expressionless, I unlocked the screen.
His "update messages" popped up one after another. But he wasn't good at hiding things.
On his neck—barely concealed beneath his collar—was a red mark. A mark that pierced through me like a needle.
My gaze fell onto the medication he had prepared for me in advance.
There was even a small note taped to the bottle.
I no longer needed it. Just like I no longer needed him.
...
At the visa center, only a few people were waiting in the hall.
"Hello, I'm Celine Mendoza—the one who called yesterday."
I handed all my documents through the glass window.
The staff member worked efficiently, but her expression tightened as she flipped through the papers.
Outside, the morning sun was warm. Inside me, everything was frozen and still.
Ten minutes later, she handed me a confirmation form.
"Ms. Mendoza, if you are sure about immigrating, please sign here."
My phone vibrated again—Tristan's updates.
He had just landed.
"It's cold today. I asked my assistant to deliver a mink coat to the house. Don't catch a cold, Celine."
I switched on Do Not Disturb.
Just as I picked up the pen, a familiar voice called out.
"Celine? What are you doing here?"
I looked up, and saw Maureen. She was there to apply for her honeymoon visa.
We were childhood friends, and even held our weddings on the same day.
She saw the grief between my brows, snatched the form from my hands, and screeched, "Immigration?!"
Her voice echoed through the hall; people turned to stare.
I took the form back silently and signed my name.
A new life deserves a new world.
That was the only thought in my heart.
"Alright, miss. Everything will be processed within seven days," the staff member said.
I turned to leave, Maureen walking quietly beside me.
From behind the counter, whispers drifted into my ears:
"Are you sure that's her? Attorney Martinez's wife is immigrating? He'll definitely lose his mind."
"Even if they fought, isn't this too extreme? Everyone knows Attorney Martinez puts Ms. Mendoza first in everything."
"Exactly. I heard that three years ago, someone hit her with their car—she was bedridden for three months. It's not serious, but Attorney Martinez still spent millions to put the guy in prison..."
I bit my lip, a bitter smile forming.
Ten years of unwavering love from him.
So why... why could he still fall for another woman?
No answer came, only emptiness.
Maureen took me to a café.
"Tell me what happened, Celine. Did someone bully you? I'll go confront Tristan myself!"
My phone lit up again—the assistant had delivered the coat.
I forced a smile and showed the screen to her.
[Have you put on the coat? Don't catch a cold.]
...
Meanwhile, thousands of miles away, Tristan had already begun work the moment he stepped off the plane.
The thick stack of documents reflected how severe the case was.
Throughout his career, he had handled bizarre, dangerous, and brutal cases—nothing could shock him anymore.
The junior assistant, Philip, murmured as he read, "It's hard to believe a biological father could do something that cruel to his own child..."
Tristan didn't speak. But the corners of his eyes were already damp.
第4章
After learning the full truth, Tristan rushed to the hospital to see the injured child.
But an hour earlier, unable to endure the torment of blindness and deafness, the child had jumped from the building and ended his life.
Tristan stood in silence for a long time before promising the grieving mother that he would make the monster responsible pay in full.
And he did it easily. With overwhelming evidence and his unmatched legal skill, the father was sentenced to life in prison.
The mother immediately paid an six digit legal fee and handed him a black card as an additional reward.
"Attorney Martinez, I know you're not the type to care about this, but please accept it—and keep this matter confidential. I don't want anyone else to know what happened."
Out of professional ethics, Tristan agreed.
Before leaving, he quietly slipped the black card into the woman's coat pocket.
When his assistant questioned him, Tristan merely waved his hand and said he had only done his job.
A drunken father beating his child into disability... it was a scene far too familiar. And in the end, that child had fallen into depression and died.
Tristan's expression darkened, and a chill crept down his spine.
My drunken ramblings from that night replayed over and over in his mind. The fear hit him all at once—the fear that I would end up like that child.
He unlocked his phone. He sent dozens of messages, but there wasn't a single reply. Every call went unanswered.
Cold sweat gathered at his forehead, and the corner of his mouth trembled.
The business trip was supposed to last two days, but he immediately booked a private jet home, leaving his assistant to handle the aftermath.
"Did you pack up the things I told you to buy?"
"Don't worry, Mr. Martinez. I've boxed all the premium medicated oils in the entire city."
"You really treat Miss Celine well. No matter where you go, you always buy something for her. By the way, Mr. Martinez—maybe try some yourself? The back of your neck is completely red..."
Tristan instinctively touched his neck, his pupils tightening.
He hurriedly opened the message thread. The photo he had sent that morning—his routine ‘reporting-in'—had captured that exact patch of redness behind his neck.
After brushing off his assistant with a few casual words, he boarded the plane home.
—
I sat steadily across from Maureen as she stared at the same photo, her face frozen in disbelief.
"How could this be? He treats you like you're his whole life."
So I finally told her everything—what had happened that night at the bar.
Her eyes instantly reddened, tears streaming down her cheeks in sympathy.
Ironically, I ended up being the one comforting her. But her reaction wasn't as dramatic as I expected.
"Jasmine... is not a simple woman."
Maureen then told me that some time ago, she and her husband had attended a charity auction where they happened to see Tristan. But they were too far away to call out to him.
The atmosphere was lively, he didn't notice them, and his attention was solely on the woman beside him.
When a mink fur coat came up for bidding, the woman gave a small nod. Immediately, Tristan began raising the price like a madman—up to three times the market value—refusing to back down.
"That woman was dressed to perfection. I actually thought it was you. I even recorded a video to show you later but got busy and forgot after the event."
Maureen played the video for me.
The woman in it... was Jasmine.
Their body language—every glance, every gesture—overflowed with intimacy.
My face gradually froze.
The mink coat Martinez had sent me through his assistant, though similar in appearance, paled in quality compared to the auction piece.
Maureen stared at the photo of the coat and scoffed, "He didn't want anyone noticing, so he thoughtfully bought you a knockoff."
"Besides... he seemed to forget you're allergic to animal fur."
It didn't matter anymore. At this point, I had no use for such cheap gestures.
Maureen and I talked for a long time, and slowly, the weight on my chest eased.
Under the warm glow of dusk, we said our goodbyes. Her husband waited for her not far away, looking at her with eyes full of tenderness.
That look... outshone even the fading sunlight.
I smiled faintly and drove home.
第5章
Earlier that day, Tristan had been pacing like an ant on a hot pan, growing more frantic by the minute. The dread gnawing at his conscience spread through his whole body.
The moment he got off the plane, he sped straight home, ignoring every message and call from his assistant.
"Celine! Where are you?!"
Just as he was frantically searching for me, I stepped through the door.
The second he heard the sound, he bolted toward me and pulled me into his arms.
"You're back—" he didn't even finish the sentence before tightening his embrace.
His voice trembled, and his arms wrapped around me with desperate strength—warm, overwhelming, almost suffocating. My mind went blank for a moment.
He held me tightly, inhaling every trace of my scent like he was trying to confirm I was truly alive and safe.
A droplet fell onto my shoulder.
He... was crying?
In ten years, I had never once seen him shed a tear. He was the type to swallow every emotion, never losing control in front of me.
"What's wrong?" I asked, attempting to push him away from the embrace that was becoming a little too tight.
He didn't answer. His grip didn't loosen, only softened slightly.
Half an hour later, he finally calmed down enough to explain why he came back so suddenly.
The child's story was heartbreaking. My throat tightened.
"Don't worry. That beast of a father has paid the price."
"That's good," I murmured. I unknowingly sneezed a few times.
The early winter wind seeped in; I had gone out dressed too lightly, and a shiver ran through me.
My eyes drifted to the glossy black mink coat. I forced a little smile and turned to head upstairs to change.
Tristan noticed and reached for the coat to place it over my shoulders.
"Celine, why didn't you listen to me and wear a coat?"
The fur settled on my shoulders, and I sneezed again. I was about to explain when his quiet mutter brushed past my ear.
"...Why is it this one?"
His voice was soft, but I heard every word.
He quickly typed something on his phone—clearly messaging his assistant.
I didn't understand what he meant, but before I could ask, he grabbed my hand.
In the next instant, I found myself being whisked to the city's newest luxury mall.
Anything my eyes lingered on for more than a second, he waved at the staff to pack up. Everything was carried straight into the truck following behind us.
In half an hour, the truck was filled to the brim with branded shopping bags.
People passing by stared in disbelief. I tried to refuse, but he was unwavering.
"Celine, I want everyone to know—you are my life."
For a moment, I felt dazed.
It was like stepping back in time to when we first met—when he loved fiercely, recklessly, and treated me like I was the center of his world.
Just as I was about to look deeper into his eyes, a sudden ringtone shattered the moment.
It was Jasmine.
He instantly hung up, but her bold, glamorous profile picture flashed across the screen—just long enough for me to see it.
That single call shattered the last fragile illusion.
I inhaled slowly and told him calmly that he didn't need to spend money on me.
"It's getting late. I'm not feeling well, so I'll head home first."
I gently pulled my hand away and turned to leave.
Seeing my face had gone pale, he immediately rushed after me.
"Celine, are you okay? I'll take you to the hospital. Your eyes haven't been rechecked for a long time—I'll go with you."
Earlier that morning, the doctor had reminded me to come back in a few days for another check-up. I had completely forgotten.
His gaze was cautious, waiting for my answer.
Maybe today was the day to tell him the truth.
Taking a deep breath, I nodded.
Five minutes later, we arrived at the best hospital in the city. As with my previous check-ups, I was scheduled for a full examination.
Jasmine called again. As he was preparing my medical documents, he accidentally hung up on her.
"Why isn't he answering my calls?"
Annoyed, Jasmine slammed her phone on the floor. The noise of the crowd around her only worsened her irritation.
"Patient number seventeen, please proceed to the exam room..."
The overhead announcement echoed. Jasmine picked up her phone, grabbed her paperwork, and walked into the consultation room.
第6章
"What wonderful news!"
I stayed calm, while Tristan beside me held his breath.
The previous check-up wasn't as thorough as today's, so although I already knew my eyes and ears had recovered, I was still thinking about how to confess everything to him.
But the doctor's next words knocked the breath out of me.
"Congratulations, you're two months pregnant!"
She pointed at the screen with a cheerful smile.
Pregnant?!
I froze.
These past months, I had felt my body getting better—stronger even—without any of the discomforts of early pregnancy.
There was no joy on my face; my brows tightened instead.
A sudden child... was not a blessing to me.
Tristan, on the other hand, was so excited the veins on his neck bulged. He grabbed me into his arms, his smile so wide it practically curved his eyes into crescents.
But just as his excitement peaked, a thought struck him. He suddenly let go and his tone softened unnaturally.
I could tell his mind had drifted far, so far that he didn't even hear the doctor mention that my body had fully recovered.
Before heading home, I stopped by the restroom. As I washed my hands, a figure in the corner caught my eye.
Jasmine...
What was she doing here?
I quietly followed her into a dim side corridor.
"Tristan... why haven't you come back yet? I have something to tell you..." Her voice trembled with sobs.
Five minutes ago, she had received her own pregnancy result—she was expecting too.
Her eyes were bloodshot, her hands shaking as she clutched her report.
"That useless cripple Celine... how dare she use pregnancy to keep Tristan?"
I was ready to turn and leave—I didn't want to hear more filth—when the overhead announcement echoed.
"Number seventeen, Celine Mendoza, please proceed to the first floor for payment—"
At the sound of my name, Jasmine's expression twisted with disgust.
Tristan's call came through just then. The ringtone was loud—and she immediately spotted me.
I already knew what she looked like.
She still didn't know my vision had returned.
Her face darkened as she approached, veins pulsing on her forehead.
"Well, well... look who it is."
She noticed the absence of hearing aids on my ears. Her voice grew shriller.
"No hearing aids? Oh right. I forgot—you're blind, deaf, and pathetic. Whatever I say, you can't hear it anyway."
Smug and venomous, she continued to spit insult after insult.
I pretended to be confused, like I was simply trying to find my way.
I just wanted to walk away.
"If you accidentally fall here," she drawled, "I'm afraid the baby might not make it either."
A wicked grin spread across her face.
My blood ran cold.
How could a person's heart be this vicious?
Her hand inched closer, and I froze in fright.
There was no cameras in this area.
I pretended to be calm, but my palms were already drenched in sweat.
"Celine, go to hell!"
She rushed behind me and shoved me down the staircase.
The sudden drop tore a scream from my throat.
My vision spun, and pain shot through my abdomen.
I fainted.
Breathless, Jasmine finally released all her resentment and rage.
Before leaving, she left one last curse, "May your child die miserably."
I didn't die from the fall. After a short while, my eyes slowly opened.
My legs were covered in bruises, and blood seeped from my knee.
Tristan hurried toward me, arms full of bags—pregnancy supplements, prenatal care items—everything he had just bought.
"Celine, why are you here? I called you so many times. Why didn't you answer?"
"Come on, let's go home. Mom already heard the news and prepared a whole table of your favorite dishes."
He didn't notice the small but steady trail of blood sliding down my leg.
第7章
"Director, something is wrong! The hospital computers were hit by a virus. Now the obstetrics department has two patients listed as Number Seventeen!"
The young nurse burst into the director's office, breathless. Only then did the director realize someone had made a serious mistake. Staring at the real medical order, his face darkened. He immediately dialed the number written on it.
—
These past few days, Tristan had treated me with extra care. Even the bruises on my leg didn't escape his eyes. I only said I slipped by accident.
He didn't fully believe me, but he didn't press further.
Today was his birthday. I stared at the email confirming my visa approval, lost in thought.
Early this morning, as he left for work, I asked my brother—who lives in Malaysia year-round—to book me a ticket for tonight, along with a chartered plane.
The last time I booked a flight on my own, Tristan canceled it immediately. He didn't like me traveling alone.
I arrived at a small law office, ready to prepare his birthday gift.
...
At the company entrance, Jasmine had been waiting for Tristan.
She had already reserved a five-star restaurant and a luxury hotel suite. Inside the gift box she held was a pregnancy report—her "grand surprise."
"Tristan, open it," she urged, eyes sparkling with anticipation, imagining he'd be just as thrilled.
Tristan examined the report carefully. A smile pulled at the corner of his lips—then vanished just as quickly.
Jasmine knew what he wanted to ask. Before he could say anything, she blurted, "I'll raise the baby myself."
Guilt washed over him. Trying to compensate, he brought her to a nearby auction house.
Moments ago, the jewelry pieces had been displayed on the stage; five minutes later, one hung around Jasmine's neck.
"You've worked hard, Jasmine." Tristan brushed her flushed cheek gently.
That evening, on the way to the hotel, his assistant suddenly sent a message.
[Attorney Martinez, something is wrong with our recent case.]
Back when Tristan returned to the country, his assistant already sensed something was off—the lady involved in the case had vanished after winning the lawsuit.
Out of responsibility, he continued investigating. What he found was far more horrifying than they had imagined.
After retrieving the child's autopsy report, the truth surfaced:
The child had been strangled by a adult man before being pushed off the rooftop.
The killer was the mother's lover. When the boy learned she was pregnant and tried to run, the man silenced him.
The mother had long fled the country.
Tristan froze in shock, unable to recover.
Then a message popped up on his phone: an alert for the refund of the flight ticket he bought for me. But why did I book only one ticket?
A terrible realization struck him.
He picked up Jasmine's pregnancy report, and snapped, "Does Celine know you're pregnant?"
He pointed at the signature at the bottom—the attending physician was the same doctor who handled my checkups.
Jasmine was terrible at lying. She swallowed hard, eyelids twitching, unable to form a coherent answer.
Tristan suddenly remembered the large bruise on my leg the night she came home from the hospital.
Without a word, he stopped the car, ordered Jasmine out, then spun the wheel and stepped hard on the gas, racing back home.
Every year, I was always the first person to wish him happy birthday at midnight.
Tonight, there was not a single message from me.
His breath grew uneven, his legs shaking.
While waiting at a red light, something in the corner of the passenger seat caught his eye—a hearing aid.
He picked it up with trembling fingers and recognized it instantly. It was mine.
'She had already fully recovered... So that night—she heard everything?' he thought.
A cold, violent chill rushed through him. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
Ignoring traffic laws, he sped through several red lights until he reached home.
"Celine! Where are you?!"
The house was completely dark.
On the table sat an exquisite box—the birthday gift I left for him.
Inside was a signed divorce agreement, hearing aid, and a voice recorder, containing the drunken truths from that night's "Truth or Dare."
This morning, while packing, I realized the new recorder in my bag had been left on. I had originally planned to give it to him as a negotiation tool. By accident, it recorded everything he said about me that night.
An hour ago, I left the Martinez household. Before leaving, I deleted all my fingerprints from the door, and I removed my wedding ring. The mark still pressed deep into my skin. I tossed the ring toward the door without looking back.
I snapped my SIM card in half.
No one in this city could contact me anymore.
Tristan rushed inside, searching the entire house like a madman.
The gift box fell to the floor unnoticed.
Only when he realized no one was home did he finally see the divorce papers.
Without hesitation, he tore them into pieces. Then, he mobilized every connection he had to find me.
"Celine... I told you before," he murmured, voice trembling with obsession. "Between us, there will only ever be widowhood—never divorce."