Gaslit by My Wife's Perfect Alibi

For three years, Hallie Larson has managed to keep her affair so carefully hidden that I can't find a single trace of the other man. Once, I find a pair of men's underwear in the back seat of her car, still warm, as if someone has only just taken them off. Other times, I notice fresh, suspicious marks behind her ear. Every time, I lose my temper. I tear through the house, demanding to know who the man is. Hallie only furrows her brow, looking more exhausted than guilty. "Sebastian, how long are you going to keep imagining things? If you're going to accuse me of cheating, then at least show me the man you claim exists." So, I start following her everywhere, 24 hours a day. I even call every relative and friend I can think of, asking them to stake out hotels with me so we can finally catch her in the act. But every time we force open a hotel room door, we find nothing. Mwanehilwe, Hallie is sitting calmly on the couch, a faint, mocking smile playing on her lips. "Go ahead," she says. "Search the room." On the way out of the room, my mother takes my hand and sighs. "Sebastian, trust is the most important thing in a marriage. You keep making a scene like this every day. What do you think you're doing to Hallie's reputation?" Even my best friend tries to talk some sense into me. "Maybe you're under too much stress. Maybe you're imagining all of this." But I can't forget what I see on Hallie's collarbone—a faint trace of moisture she hasn't completely wiped away. It's so out of place, so suspicious, that I can't bring myself to dismiss it. Chapter 1 Then, one day, a young man suddenly stepped in front of me. "Dad!" I froze. He looked at me through tear-filled, bloodshot eyes. "I'm your son—20 years from now. Please, stop suspecting Mom. There has never been another man." My face went pale. "If you keep treating her like this, Mom will die within a year because of your suspicions. And you'll regret it for the rest of your life." I stood there, completely stunned. The young man wiped away his tears and continued, "Mom really loves you. The day she died, you were furious because you found a lighter in her pocket. "You thought it belonged to another man. But Mom wanted to make it up to you, so she drove nearly 200 miles to buy you the limited-edition watch you'd always wanted. "She never made it home. She got caught in a massive pileup on the highway." His voice broke. "Until the very end, Mom was still clutching that watch box in her hands." He lowered his head, struggling to hold back his tears. "I came because I don't want history to repeat itself." He looked up at me. "Dad, please. Can't you and Mom just be happy together?" I forced myself to stay calm and studied his face. He really did look remarkably like me when I was younger. Even the tiny mole in the center of his nose was the same as mine. From that day on, I truly changed. When Hallie Larsen, my wife, came home late, I stopped asking where she'd been. When I noticed fresh marks on her neck, I no longer lost my temper or smashed things like I used to. And somehow, Hallie seemed to become the gentle, loving woman she had once been. Before leaving for work each morning, she would pause by the door, smile, kiss my forehead, and tease me. "Wait for me, honey." After work, she would always come home with little gifts she'd picked up along the way—things she thought I might like. But the doubts never truly went away. No matter how hard I tried to push them aside, they always lingered in the back of my mind. All I could do was keep telling myself that I was overthinking everything. We couldn't keep hurting each other like this. Then, one evening over dinner, Hallie suddenly set down her fork and looked at me, puzzled. "Sebastian, why have you been acting so differently lately?" I stopped eating and answered honestly, "Because I met our son from 20 years in the future. He told me my suspicion would be what killed you." Hallie froze for a moment when she heard that. But instead of asking how she would die, her first instinct was to come around the table and crouch beside me. She gently cupped my pale cheek, her beautiful eyes filled with concern. "Were you blaming yourself when you heard that?" she asked. Then she reassured me, "You don't have to feel guilty. If we work together, we can change what happens in the future." The ache in my chest nearly overwhelmed me. I silently nodded. Wrapped in her tenderness, I almost began to believe that maybe I really had been too suspicious all along. Naturally, Wyatt Castro, the young man I'd met the other day, moved into our home. He knew my habits and preferences like the back of his hand. He knew I took my coffee without sugar. He knew I liked to prop myself up with a soft pillow whenever I read. It was almost as if he'd really spent the past 20 years living with me. Then, one day, I was carrying a plate of fruit to them when I casually overheard Wyatt laughing in the living room. "He's such an idiot. He actually believed that whole story about me being his son from the future?" "This is perfect. I don't have to sneak around anymore. You put me right under his nose, and he still can't suspect a thing. On top of that, he has to sit there and watch me act all affectionate with you. What a pathetic loser." There was a mocking edge to Hallie's voice. "It's his own fault for being so extreme—and so perceptive. He pushed me into this." After a brief pause, her voice grew more serious. "Play your part. Sebastian can't find out the truth." She warned him. "He's different from everyone else. Back then, when I was at my lowest, he was the one who protected me. He worked himself to the bone to give me the best life possible. My husband can only be him." After another pause, she added, "As for Sebastian's habits, I'll keep sending them to you every day. Memorize them." I stood completely still, my fists slowly tightening. But this time, I didn't storm into the living room or confront her with rage in my eyes like I used to. Instead, I turned around and quietly walked back into the kitchen. Cold water rushed over my fingertips, but it was nothing compared to the chill spreading through my chest. What neither of them knew was that I'd believed the time-travel story for a very simple reason—I had come from another world myself, and I had a system bound to me. Three days ago, the system had asked me if I wanted to return to my original world. According to the system, Hallie really would die soon. I hesitated. I wanted to stay. I wanted to save her. But now, as I stared at my blurred reflection in the kitchen window, I quietly spoke to the system. "I've made my decision. I want to go home—to the world I came from." Chapter 2 A message from the system then flashed before my eyes. "Are you sure? Once you confirm, the countdown will begin. You will return to your original world in seven days. Until then, this body will gradually weaken, and on the seventh day, it will die." I glanced toward the living room, where the two of them were still laughing and chatting together. My voice was barely a whisper. "I'm sure." Leaning against the wall, I suddenly found myself remembering what things had been like seven years ago. Back then, Hallie's family had just gone bankrupt. Someone had broken her leg and abandoned her in an alley during a torrential downpour. She had begged everyone she could think of for help. She had even come close to selling herself just to survive, but everyone avoided her like the plague—everyone except me. At the time, I was carrying out the system's mission to "save the female lead," so I carried her back to my run-down apartment, where rainwater leaked through the roof. She was burning with fever and barely conscious, whimpering in pain. Night after night, I wiped her down with a damp cloth and made sure she drank enough water. When she finally regained consciousness, I was the first person she saw. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. Her trembling fingers weakly clutched the edge of my shirt. "Sebastian, please don't leave me." Later, her family recovered from their financial troubles, and Hallie became the youngest female CEO in the city. Yet even then, she would still curl up beside me, trembling as she whispered with unwavering determination, "Sebastian, I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you." The love in her eyes back then had been so intense that it made my heart tremble. I truly believed I was different from everyone else to her. Only now did I understand that I wasn't special to her. I had simply moved her more deeply than anyone else had. That was all. I pulled the corner of my mouth into a faint smile, picked up the plate of fruit, and walked out of the kitchen. The living room was already empty. Only the faint sound of laughter drifted down from upstairs. I followed the voices to the master bedroom. The moment I pushed the door open, I froze. Wyatt was wearing my suit. It was the old suit I had kept locked away in the back of my closet, untouched for years. Hallie stood in front of him, calmly adjusting his tie. They were so close there was barely any space between them. Her chin rested against his shoulder as she looked up at him, their faces almost touching. I clenched my fist until my nails dug into my palm. In this world, I had worn a suit for Hallie only twice. We had been too poor to afford a proper suit, so Hallie spent six months' worth of savings on fabric and sewed one for me by hand, stitch by painstaking stitch. She had grown up sheltered, never having to do anything for herself. Yet for me, even with her right leg still in a cast, she would sit on a little stool and stay up night after night, working on that suit. I would wake in the middle of the night and find her sitting beneath the dim yellow light, her fingers dotted with tiny puncture wounds from the needle. She never seemed to care about the pain. She would simply smooth out every wrinkle in the fabric again and again, determined to make it perfect. Years later, after everything had been restored, we held a lavish wedding ceremony. I wore a custom-made suit worth a fortune, embroidered with golden thread. But that old, crookedly stitched suit was still the most precious thing I had ever owned. And now, she had willingly let another man wear it. The plate slipped from my hands. Red raspberries scattered across the floor, looking almost like drops of blood. Only then did Hallie notice me. She immediately rushed over and grabbed my wrist, checking my hands. "Sebastian, did you cut yourself on any of the pieces?" The concern on her face looked completely genuine. But somehow, that only made the bitterness in my throat harder to swallow. When she took one look at my pale face, she immediately released my wrist, and her tone suddenly turned cold. "Are you overthinking everything again? Wyatt is just young and curious. He wanted to know what it felt like to be the groom." Wyatt walked over with a grin and grabbed my arm. "Dad, you promised me that someday you'd give me this suit so I could carry on the happiness it represents!" I looked into his eyes. There was curiosity there, but also a hint of provocation. I felt sick. So, this was how they were using the excuse of being my "future son". Hallie frowned, but she didn't stop him. If anything, she seemed almost curious to see how I would react. I let out a quiet laugh and pulled my arm free. "Of course. It's yours." Hallie visibly froze for a moment, and her expression darkened. "Sebastian, do you have any idea how much effort I put into making that suit? And you're just giving it away?" I met her eyes with a distant smile. "Weren't you the one who told me not to overthink things? If I can't even tolerate my own son, wouldn't that make me pretty petty?" Hallie was momentarily speechless. Then she let out a cold laugh. "Fine. I like you better when you're this generous." She grabbed Wyatt by the wrist and pulled him into the dressing room, slamming the door behind them. I stood there in silence. From behind the closed door came muffled sounds of them moving around. I looked up. Through the narrow gap where the door hadn't fully closed, I caught a glimpse of Wyatt and Hallie standing close together. Wyatt repeatedly kissed her while she was pressed against the mirror. A bitter sense of irony settled over me. She had been the one to use my suit to provoke me. Yet now that I was willingly giving it away, she was the one who was angry. I couldn't help wondering why. Was she angry because I no longer valued the effort she had once put into making that suit? Or was it because I was no longer reacting the way she expected me to? I smiled faintly, turned away, and walked over to the desk. I sat down, pulled my diary from the drawer, and wrote the opening line of my farewell letter. From the dressing room came the occasional crash of something hitting the floor. The noise was loud. Whatever they were doing there, they seemed to be making quite a mess. My grip tightened around the pen until my knuckles turned white, but I never once looked up. Two hours later, the dressing-room door finally opened. Wyatt helped Hallie out. She could barely stand on her own, leaning heavily against him, her eyes still slightly red. Hallie glanced at me and casually wiped her lips. "Wyatt was curious about what our wedding was like back then. I walked him through everything from beginning to end. It took a little longer than I expected." I quietly closed my diary. I could feel my stomach churning. Whatever they had been reminiscing about, I seriously doubted it had anything to do with the actual wedding ceremony. I lowered my eyes and slipped the old-fashioned beaded bracelet from my wrist. Then I held it out to Wyatt, who looked completely satisfied with himself. I smiled faintly. "Since you like my things so much, you can have this, too." Hallie's eyes fell on the bracelet, and her pupils suddenly contracted. She rushed forward, snatched it from my hand, and glared at me, her eyes red with anger. "How dare you give this to someone else?" she demanded. "Sebastian, you know perfectly well…" Her voice trembled. "I nearly gave my life to get this for you." Chapter 3 I stared into Hallie's reddened eyes, unable to believe how absurd she was being. Four years ago, the system had given me a chance to return home. At the time, I had just been promoted in my original world. I was financially comfortable, my parents were healthy, and they were waiting for me to come home. So, I chose to return to the world I came from. The moment I made that choice, this body began rapidly deteriorating. Doctors ran test after test, but none of them could figure out what was wrong with me. The woman who was always so proud in the business world humbled herself and begged every renowned specialist she could find to save me. Every night, she would hold my thin, skeletal hand and secretly cry. She could never sleep peacefully. Whenever she woke in the middle of the night, the first thing she would do was press her ear against my sunken chest, trembling as she listened for my heartbeat. It was unbearable to watch her suffer like that because, somewhere along the way, I had genuinely fallen in love with Hallie. But my family in my original world mattered just as much to me. When she had exhausted every other option, she went to an ancient abbey that had stood for thousands of years and begged the gods for help. In the sweltering summer heat, she climbed thousands of stone steps, whispering prayers with every step. She went for days without food or water and even fainted several times along the way. But every time, she would order her attendants to splash water on her until she woke up. Then she would grit her teeth and keep climbing. In the end, she returned with a string of prayer beads for me. When she slipped them onto my wrist, every bead was stained with blood from the wounds on her palms that she'd suffered when she fainted. Yet she acted as though she couldn't feel the pain. Kneeling beside my bed, she begged me over and over. "Sebastian, please wake up. Please get better…" My heart softened. I asked the system if I could postpone my return home, and it agreed. But now, as I looked at those same beads, still carrying traces of her blood, all I could feel was bitter irony. For years, I had been tormented by the thought of my family in my original world, still waiting for me to return. And yet, less than a year after I chose to stay for Hallie, she cheated on me. That was why I had broken down. Why I had lost control and become hysterical. I had started to wonder if choosing her had been the biggest mistake of my life. I looked at Hallie and spoke through my dry throat. "You gave them to me. That makes them mine. I can do whatever I want with them, can't I?" Hallie froze. Her expression immediately twisted with anger. I held the bracelet out to Wyatt again. "Didn't you want my things? Go ahead. Take them." Wyatt glanced at Hallie's furious expression and immediately shrank back. "Forget it. How could I take something that represents your relationship?" I let out a quiet laugh, the sound filled with nothing but mockery. "Once there's no love left, they're nothing more than lifeless objects." Hallie finally snapped. She snatched the bracelet from my hand and yanked it hard, snapping the cord. The beads scattered across the floor, bouncing and rolling in every direction. She stared at me coldly. "If you don't want them that badly, then you don't get to have them." She grabbed Wyatt and stormed out, slamming the door behind them. It felt as though someone had carved a piece of my heart straight out of my chest. I crouched down and began gathering the scattered beads, my eyes burning with tears. One by one, I picked up each bead stained with traces of dried blood and carefully placed them back into the box. Then I tore the farewell letter I had just written from my diary and slipped it inside. I found the butler, William Gomez, and gave him one quiet instruction. "Give this to her seven days from now." Once everything was taken care of, exhaustion finally caught up with me. I collapsed onto the bed. Somewhere between sleep and consciousness, I heard the bedroom door open. Someone sat down beside me. Still half-asleep, I thought I was dreaming. Out of habit, I reached for that familiar hand and held it, mumbling groggily, "Why did you get home so late?" I pulled her closer. "Honey, I don't feel so good." The next second, my hand was violently slapped away. Hallie let out a mocking laugh. "What are you trying to pull now?" I jolted awake, only to find myself staring straight into the disgust in her eyes. "Sebastian, haven't you caused enough trouble already?" she snapped. "Just because Wyatt wore your suit, you've convinced yourself that I'm cheating on you—that I'm having an affair with him?" Her voice rose with every word. "You hired people online to harass him. You dug into his private life. You even paid some thugs to drag him into an alley and humiliate him. How much further are you planning to take this?" She leaned over me, trembling with anger. "When I got there, he was on his knees, begging them to stop. If I hadn't arrived in time, who knows what you would've done?" Her eyes burned with fury. "Are you really so jealous that you can't even tolerate your own son?" She stared down at me, her expression filled with contempt. "Sebastian, do you have any idea how low you've sunk?" Chapter 4 Hallie tightened her grip around my wrist, her sharp nails digging into my skin. I forced myself to remain calm as I explained, "I was in this room all day. I never left. If you don't believe me, ask William. He can confirm it." The corner of Hallie's mouth curled into a cold, cruel smile, disgust filling her eyes. "I don't need to ask anyone for confirmation. Sebastian, I know what you've done over the years. "You installed spyware on my phone to listen in on my conversations. You even hired men to approach me just to test whether I'd cheat on you. If you're willing to spend enough money, is there anyone in this world who wouldn't do whatever you asked?" I stared at the undisguised disgust in her eyes, my heart clenching painfully. All I could feel was the bitter irony of it. Everything I'd done over the years—obsessively searching for proof and driving myself to the brink of madness—had been because she really had been cheating on me all along. I stared at her coldly. "Since you have no shred of trust in me, what else is there for me to say? What do you want from me?" Hallie stared at my pale face for a long moment before suddenly letting out a soft laugh. She leaned closer, a dazzling smile spreading across her lips. "Honey, do you really think that because of everything we went through back then—and because I love you—I could never truly hurt you?" Her smile remained beautiful, but there was nothing warm in her eyes. "Is that why you've dared to take things this far this time?" The coldness in her gaze was almost unbearable, and I froze. "What exactly do you want?" She didn't answer. Instead, she simply waved a hand. The bodyguards immediately pushed the door open and stepped inside. "You humiliated Wyatt. It's only fair that you experience the same pain." I gripped the edge of my shirt tightly and glared up at her. "I didn't do it! I told you, I don't care anymore whether you're cheating on me!" "Still lying." Hallie cut me off, disappointment clear in her voice. She sighed. Then, almost tenderly, she reached out and brushed her pale fingers against my cheek. "Sebastian, I don't want things to end up like this either. But you're always so possessive of me, and honestly, it makes me uncomfortable. I'm a woman, but I still have to socialize and entertain clients for work. That's part of my job. "No matter how angry you get, you can't take it out on every man around me. And Wyatt is your own future son, for God's sake." I stared at her face, so close to mine, and suddenly found the whole situation unbearably ridiculous. "Hallie, you actually believe what other people say about me instead of believing me? You're an idiot." Her expression hardened instantly. "You'll regret this," I added. She let out a cold laugh. "There's no point talking to you." Almost immediately, a bodyguard grabbed me by the shoulders and slammed me onto the floor. He dragged me away from the bed as if I were nothing more than a piece of trash. Hallie looked down at me sprawled across the floor. Her voice was soft when she spoke, almost gentle. "When we found Wyatt, his wrist was dislocated, and two of his fingers were broken." She paused, watching me. "Sebastian, I thought that once you found out he was our future son—and realized that your suspicions would eventually lead to something terrible happening to me—you would change. "But you're more narrow-minded than anyone I've ever met. You can't stand the thought of anyone getting close to me." Her expression remained cold. "If you apologize to Wyatt and promise me you'll never accuse me of cheating again, we can go back to the way things were." She paused. "And I won't punish you." I lay half-curled on the floor, finding her words almost laughable. How could something that had already been poisoned ever go back to the way it was? I planted a hand against the floor and struggled to lift my head. "I. Won't. Apologize." The last trace of warmth vanished from Hallie's eyes. She closed them for a moment, her lashes trembling slightly. "Sebastian, I'm trying to give you a chance." She opened her eyes and looked down at me. "You deserve this." With that, she turned and walked away. The bodyguard stepped toward me, his expression unreadable. He raised the baseball bat in his hands. "Sorry, Mr. Castro." I closed my eyes, despair settling over me. When Hallie and I had first gotten together, a stranger once groped her on a crowded bus. She swallowed her tears and tried to stop me from going after him. "It's okay. Just let it go…" But I lost my temper the moment I found out. I rushed over and attacked the man without thinking. I kept hitting him until the police arrived, and I was arrested for assault. I ended up spending time in jail, where I was harassed and beaten by other inmates. By the time I was released, I was covered in bruises and injuries. The moment Hallie saw me, she threw herself into my arms, sobbing so hard that her makeup ran down her face. But all I did was smile, reach up, and gently pat her on the head. "Sebastian, someday I'm going to hire an entire army of bodyguards for you. No one will ever lay a finger on you again." But now, the person ordering someone to hurt me was the very same woman who had once made that promise. The unmistakable sound of a bone breaking rang out, followed by a blinding surge of pain through my left arm. The pain was overwhelming, and soon the world went black. When I woke, my left arm felt impossibly heavy, encased in a cast and strapped across my chest. A young nurse noticed I was awake and let out a quiet sigh of relief. But when she looked at me, I caught a flicker of pity in her eyes. She spoke softly. "Mr. Castro, you're awake. Several of your internal organs were injured. You need complete bed rest." I froze. Then the corner of my mouth curled into a faint, bitter smile. Just to vent her anger over that fake "future son," Hallie had actually ordered someone to beat me badly enough to injure my internal organs. I closed my eyes, unwilling to let the nurse see the humiliation reflected in them. But then the nurse seemed to remember something and quickly added, "Oh, there's one more thing. Your wife, Ms. Larsen, is pregnant. She's about five weeks along." She smiled faintly. "We just checked the baby's heartbeat. Everything looks stable. The baby is healthy." Chapter 5 I opened my eyes and stared blankly at the ceiling, unable to tell whether reality had become too absurd or if the dream had simply turned cruelly ironic. She was pregnant. Five weeks along. In a world where even I was about to disappear, who would be there to love and protect this little life that had arrived at such a time? A bitter laugh escaped me. "I wouldn't exactly call that good news." The nurse froze, caught off guard by my response. "Sebastian! What are you talking about?" The door opened, and Hallie strode into the room, barely containing her anger. "That's your baby. Aren't you happy?" But the moment she saw how pale I was, she stopped. Her anger faded, replaced by a softer tone. "We spent three years trying to have this baby. After everything we went through, we finally got pregnant. Why would you say something like that?" Her words burned in my throat, and a bitter, mocking laugh escaped me. She wasn't wrong. We had spent three whole years trying to have a child. I had endured every hardship, swallowed every bitterness, and forced myself to keep going even when the thought of intimacy had become enough to make me nauseous. I had wanted this baby that badly. Because I had always believed that if the system eventually forced me to return to my original world, Hallie would be devastated. At least she would have a child who shared my blood. Someone who could stay by her side after I was gone, so she wouldn't be left alone. And if it were a boy, even better. He could grow up and protect her in my place. That was why, when Wyatt appeared—looking so much like me and claiming to be my son from twenty years in the future—I nearly cried with relief. I had genuinely believed that my greatest worry had been taken care of. Only now did I realize how foolish I had been. Maybe Hallie had simply grown tired of me, tired of the fact that I wasn't young anymore, and tired of my old-fashioned ways and my boring personality. So, she found a younger imitation who looked like me and used the story of a "future son" to silence every suspicion I had. I had spent three years desperately wanting a child for her sake. And all along, perhaps she had already found someone else she wanted instead. Exhaustion washed over me, and I closed my eyes. "I'm happy. Okay?" Hallie didn't hear the emptiness in my voice. Instead, she happily took my hand and placed it against her stomach. "It's still so tiny right now. Once the baby starts growing, you'll be able to feel those little kicks." I turned my face away and said nothing. What was there left to say? In just a few days, I would be gone. There was no way I would live long enough to feel that baby move. Her phone began ringing incessantly. Hallie hesitated for a moment before standing. "Get some rest and take care of yourself. I'll come see you whenever I have time." She paused at the door. "And remember to pick a name for the baby. I'm going to check whether you actually put some thought into it." I smiled and nodded. But the moment the hospital room door closed behind her, the smile disappeared. I decided to let her anticipation grow. Let her enjoy every bit of happiness she thought was waiting for her. After all, the higher the hopes, the harder the fall. Over the next few days, Hallie only came to see me once. She froze when she walked in and found me sorting through my belongings. "What are you doing?" I smiled and shrugged. "Nothing. Just organizing the things I want the baby to have." She paused before stepping closer and leaning against me with a smile. "What's the rush? Once the baby is born, we'll have plenty of time to figure everything out." I sighed softly. "There won't be enough time." Her phone rang again. She barely acknowledged me before hurrying out of the room. After that, Hallie never came back. Whenever I called, her assistant gave me the same excuse. "Mr. Castro, Ms. Larsen is extremely busy with work. Meanwhile, entertainment headlines were plastered with one story after another about Hallie's love life. "Larsen Group's Ice-Cold CEO Spotted on Private Date With Mystery Man—Couple Spends Ten Hours at Universal Studios, She Smiles Sweetly in His Arms." "Finance World's 'Ice Queen' Exposed on Private Island Getaway—Kissing, Poolside Romance, and a Helicopter Pickup." I glanced at the sensational headlines and let out a quiet laugh. Two days remained, and my body had become frighteningly weak. The sharp lines of my face had grown hollow. My cheekbones stood out beneath my skin, my eyes were deeply sunken, and even my wrists had become painfully thin. The nurses handled me with extra care whenever they came in to change my dressings, afraid that even the slightest pressure might hurt me. I didn't even have the strength to hate Hallie anymore. Then, without warning, the hospital room door was violently thrown open. Several men stormed inside. Without a word, they grabbed me and hauled me to my feet. "Mr. Castro, Ms. Larsen wants us to take you to a party." They shoved me into a car and locked the doors. I had no idea how much time had passed before the car finally stopped in front of a lavish hotel. I was half-dragged, half-carried inside. The lobby was brightly lit, almost painfully so. Balloons and streamers covered the walls, while enormous neon letters spelling "Happy Birthday" dominated the room. Then several black SUVs pulled up behind us, one after another. A group of intimidating men climbed out. My heart sank as I knew something was wrong. If Hallie had simply wanted to appease Wyatt, she never would have sent this many people to drag me here. I swallowed and rasped out, "Why exactly am I here?" Chapter 6 No one answered me. They simply dragged me unsteadily toward the ballroom. At the center of the room, Wyatt had one arm around Hallie as they danced the opening number. They moved together with effortless intimacy. Hallie's dress swept across the floor as they turned, the two of them looking perfectly at ease in each other's arms. It was a beautiful scene. Beautiful enough to hurt. The moment they saw me, the music abruptly stopped. A wave of whispers swept through the ballroom. "Isn't that Mr. Castro? The husband? I heard he's completely lost it. He's probably here to catch his wife cheating again." "Keep your voice down. Ms. Larsen isn't exactly happy to see him." Hallie had been glaring at me, anger written all over her face. But the moment her eyes fell on my painfully thin frame, she froze. "Sebastian? You know who Wyatt is. What are you trying to pull this time?" Then she seemed to notice just how much weight I'd lost. A flicker of concern crossed her face. "You haven't been taking care of yourself, have you? How did you get this thin?" I tugged at the corner of my mouth, trying to smile, but all that came out was a rasping breath. Before I could say a word, the men behind me suddenly stormed into the ballroom, clubs raised in their hands. "Mr. Castro gave the order! You think you can sneak around behind his back and fool around with other men? He knows that the baby isn't even his!" One of them shouted over the commotion. "Nobody walks away from this!" Instantly, everything descended into chaos. In the confusion, one of the men swung his club wildly. It struck Hallie in the abdomen, and she crumpled to the ground with a cry of pain. I stood there, completely frozen. The concern that had flashed across Hallie's face when she first noticed how sickly I looked disappeared the moment she realized what had happened. She turned toward me. For the first time, there was nothing in her eyes but hatred. Pure, unmistakable hatred. "You psychopath," she spat. "If anything happens to my baby, I'll never forgive you." Seven years of marriage. I'd stood beside her when she had nothing, watching her slowly climb her way to the top. And in the end, all I'd earned was the title of "psychopath". Maybe this was for the best. I was going to die soon anyway. Whatever relationship remained between us would die with me. A bitter smile tugged at my lips. "I could tell you I didn't send those men. But you probably wouldn't believe me, would you?" Wyatt shouted at the bodyguards to restrain the attackers. Then he rushed to Hallie's side and scooped her into his arms, his voice trembling as he shouted for a doctor. As he carried her past me, Hallie weakly lifted her head. Her eyes met mine, cold and filled with resentment. "Hold him down. Make him kneel. He doesn't get up until I'm out of surgery." One of the bodyguards stepped forward and kicked the back of my knee. My legs buckled, and I crashed to the floor. A collective gasp swept through the ballroom, quickly followed by a murmur of whispers. Some voices carried mockery. Others sounded almost sympathetic. Every word felt like a needle against a heart that had long since gone numb. I slowly straightened my back. I didn't explain myself or beg. I simply watched as Wyatt carried Hallie into the elevator and disappeared behind the closing doors. Then I was left there alone. The sun climbed overhead. Then, slowly, the light faded. Seven hours passed. By the time the bodyguards finally received a phone call, my knees had gone completely numb. "Get up," one of them said coldly. I tried to move. My legs were stiff and barely responsive. I stumbled forward, nearly collapsing, then caught myself with my hands and forced myself back upright. I hadn't even made it out of the ballroom when the bodyguards returned and dragged me down to the basement. I was exhausted beyond words. The moment they let go of me, I slid down the wall and collapsed onto the floor. I don't know how long I lay there, barely conscious, until someone suddenly dumped a bucket of ice-cold water over my head. Wyatt crouched in front of me and used the toe of his shoe to tilt my chin upward. "Sebastian, you knew I was faking it all along, didn't you?" He clapped his hands, and several people in white coats walked into the room. "A useless man like you, living off a woman, should've known you'd eventually be discarded like trash." He gave me a cold smile. "I'm going to let you in on a little secret. I was the one who arranged those men. I was making plenty of money, and then you went and got her pregnant. What? Did you really think having a child with her would finally give you a chance to turn your life around?" He laughed. "Dream on." I barely had the strength to lift my eyes. Today was the final day, and the system's countdown was almost over. Soon, I would be gone. Wyatt smiled and turned to the doctors. "Take one of his kidneys. And make sure he can never have children again. I want to see what this useless old man has left that could possibly compete with me." I no longer had the strength to resist. As the doctors began the procedure, I could only lie there and let it happen. Without proper preparation or care, the pain quickly became unbearable. My already weakened body couldn't withstand it. My vision began to blur. The voices around me grew distant and indistinct. "His blood pressure is dropping!" "His heart stopped! Start resuscitation!" "How is that possible? It was supposed to be a simple procedure. How could he die?" Wyatt's voice cut through the room, sharp with panic. But I could barely make out his words anymore. Everything around me began to fade. My soul seemed to drift farther and farther away. For one last moment, I looked down at myself. Then I felt nothing. It was finally over. The seventh day had come. By now, the farewell letter I'd written for Hallie should have reached her.