Theater: NovelMaster | Language: English | NEW
Synopsis
On our wedding night, Evelyn Carter brought her male secretary into our brand-new penthouse.
She let him wear the pajamas I had just bought and lie on the king-sized bed I had meticulously decorated.
All because the secretary, Julian Hayes, looked strikingly like her deceased first love.
When I confronted her, Evelyn looked disgusted.
"What's wrong with finding someone to take care of you? You really don't know what's good for you, do you?"
Yet, the moment I asked Julian to pour me a glass of water, she snatched it and threw the scalding water straight over my hand, her face dark with impatience.
"Who gave you the right to order my people around?"
"If your mother hadn't guilt-tripped me on her deathbed, do you honestly think I would have ever agreed to marry you?"
Looking at her cold, arrogant face, an overwhelming exhaustion washed over me.
Evelyn truly believed I couldn't live without her. What she didn't know was that everything she possessed today was something I had handed to her.
Evelyn's words left me frozen where I stood.
Even with the scalding water dripping from the back of my hand, I could barely feel the pain.
I looked down. The shattered glass near my feet reflected the harsh overhead lights, glaring and sharp.
It was just like my relationship with Evelyn.
Beneath its glamorous exterior, it was already bruised and rotten to the core.
I took a deep breath, looked at the indifferent woman in front of me, and asked coldly, "Are you sure you want him to stay?"
Julian was the first to head toward the foyer, his voice dripping with faux consideration.
"I'm so sorry, Logan. I didn't mean to ruin your wedding night with Evelyn."
"I truly had no other intentions. Evelyn has always been particular about everything, and I was just worried you wouldn't take proper care of her. Please don't be mad. I'll leave right now."
Evelyn rushed over, shielding him behind her back.
Without a second thought, she turned on me, her voice cutting like a whip.
"Who the hell do you think you are? You eat my food, spend my money, and I paid for this place! What right do you have to tell me who I can bring home?"
"I already kept my promise to your mother and went through with the wedding. Don't push your luck."
The sheer contempt in her voice hit me like a slap. In that moment, the last lingering hope in my heart vanished.
I pulled the wedding band from my ring finger and set it gently down on the coffee table.
"In that case, I'll give you two some space."
There was no point in forcing an ill-fated relationship any longer.
Just as I turned to walk out, Evelyn called out after me, her tone slow and mocking.
She picked up the ring I had abandoned, twirling it between her fingers as she stepped closer.
She let out a dry sneer.
"If you want to leave, leave the keys."
"Don't think I don't know what you're doing. You think this playing-hard-to-get routine will actually work on me?"
Without waiting for her to finish, I pulled the keys from my pocket, dropped them onto the entryway console, pushed the door open, and walked out.
Down in the lobby, the security guard stared in shock when he saw me leaving in only light indoor clothes.
He seemed to remember the handsome man Evelyn had escorted upstairs just an hour earlier, and whatever question was on his lips died unspoken.
I even caught a flicker of pity in his eyes.
I didn't care to explain. I hailed a cab and headed straight for the old house where my mother had lived before she passed away.
During her life, my mother had adored Evelyn. She gave Evelyn the best of everything, terrified of falling short in any way.
Six months ago, during a sudden fire, my mother had thrown herself into the blaze without a second thought to drag Evelyn out.
When they brought her out, she ignored her own severe burns, frantically asking the paramedics about Evelyn's condition.
In the end, my mother didn't make it. She passed away in the back of the ambulance. Right before she took her final breath, she clasped our hands together, pleading for us to get married and build a life together.
I still vividly remembered kneeling beside the stretcher, begging the paramedics to keep trying.
Back then, Evelyn held me tightly, her face drenched in tears, whispering:
"Logan, I won't fail your mother's wish. We'll get married by the end of the year. I'll spend the rest of my life making you happy."
Yet in just six short months, everything had changed.
A life-saving sacrifice was now a "deathbed guilt-trip" in Evelyn's mouth.
Three years of devotion meant nothing to her compared to the few months she had known Julian.
I had once thought Julian was merely a passing distraction, something that wouldn't shake the foundation we built.
Little did I know, from the moment he appeared, I was already walking down a one-way street toward heartbreak.
It was nearly midnight by the time I unlocked the door.
This apartment had originally been left to me by my mother as our marital home.
Evelyn had despised it, claiming the neighborhood was run-down and filthy. What she didn't know was that just last week, the city had approved a massive urban redevelopment project for this entire district.
The buyout compensation for this property alone was estimated at over five million dollars.
Now, whether she ever found out didn't matter anymore.After cleaning up the dust as best as I could, I crashed onto the old couch.
The next morning, loud, frantic knocking jolted me awake.
A woman's voice drifted through the door. I sat bolt upright, assuming Evelyn had tracked me down.
I walked over and swung the door open.
When I saw the young woman standing on the porch in a soft pink dress, I froze.
Because of the upcoming redevelopment, most of the neighbors had already moved out. When I arrived last night, the entire street was pitch-black and practically deserted.
"Logan! You're actually back?"
Her eyes widened in delight, and she threw her arms wide as if to hug me.
I took a step back, studying her with a puzzled frown.
It wasn't until I noticed the tiny beauty mark at the outer corner of her eye that a slender, familiar silhouette surfaced in my memory.
When we were kids, the girl next door always wore twin pigtails and trailed behind me, constantly calling my name.
She had a sweet baby face, and whenever she smiled, that tiny mark crinkled with life.
I remembered her father had been an uncontrollable gambler who beat her and her mother every time he lost.
My mother was still alive back then. Heartbroken seeing the bruises on the girl, she frequently invited her over for dinner.
Years had passed, yet her smile was just as warm and radiant as ever.
Suddenly, a photograph in Evelyn's bedroom flashed across my mind.
In that photo, Evelyn also wore twin pigtails, leaning against a teenage boy's shoulder, smiling with a pure, radiant joy I had never once seen in all the years we were together.
It was only then that I realized Evelyn wasn't someone who didn't know how to smile.
She simply reserved all her warmth and beauty for another man.
We had fought bitterly over that photograph. She had scoffed, telling me coldly that in her heart, I would never measure up to her first love.
We fell into a brutal cold war after that. In the end, my mother had talked me down: "Why should a living, breathing man compete with a ghost?"
Later on, I swallowed my pride and smoothed things over myself. But from that day forward, Oliver's name became a forbidden topic between us.
I had been lost in my own delusions back then. Only now did I understand the harsh truth:
If a woman doesn't even want to give you a genuine smile, you hold no real place in her heart at all.
After catching up for a bit, Clara invited me to go hiking.
She told me there was a meteor shower tonight, and if I had any wishes, I could make them under the stars.
I originally wanted to decline, but seeing the bright, hopeful look on her face, I didn't have the heart to ruin her mood.
On the trail up the mountain, we talked about everything.
I learned that her past few years had been agonizing. A year ago, pushed beyond her limits by years of domestic violence, her mother had stabbed her father to death in self-defense.
To Clara, it seemed like freedom on the surface, but losing both parents and inheriting her father's massive private debts had nearly crushed her.
Even under that suffocating weight, she remained remarkably optimistic.
Looking down at the dirt trail, I suddenly felt that my own past few years had been a pathetic failure.
I had believed that marrying Evelyn and being with the woman I loved would guarantee my future happiness. I was dead wrong.
For her, I gave up my promising career as an independent designer. For her, I learned gourmet cooking and floral arrangement, desperately trying to build shared interests with her.
In the end, I had simply turned myself into a punchline.
Yet looking at Clara, despite everything she had suffered, she was still fighting for her dreams.
She was still entirely herself.
Right then, my phone buzzed with an incoming voice message from Evelyn."Logan, that's enough! Do you really think you can just wash your hands of the company and disappear? Do you have any idea how much money the firm is losing right now because of your tantrum? I don't have the patience to keep playing this game with you!"
In the background, I clearly heard Julian's voice purring, "Evelyn, have some fruit. Open up, let me feed you."
I didn't bother typing a single word back. I tapped her profile, hit block, and deleted her number.
Looking up, I saw Clara standing a few steps above me, glancing back with concern.
"Is something wrong? Do you need to handle work?"
I shoved my phone back into my pocket. "No. Let's keep moving, or we won't reach the summit before dark."
Clara didn't pry. She skipped ahead, leading the way, frequently turning back to chat and point out the scenery.
By eight in the evening, we finally pitched our tents on the mountain peak.
We sat side by side on a large flat boulder.
Looking out over the pitch-black sky, watching the rolling sea of mist wrapping around the distant peaks, a rare wave of tranquility settled over my chest.
Sensing my lingering gloom, Clara pulled two chilled beers from her backpack and handed me one.
"Don't overthink things, Logan! You're still so young. Whatever happened, you always have the chance to start over from scratch!"
I took the can from her hands, watching the bright spark in her eyes, deeply moved.
She was right.
I was in my twenties. Just because I had wasted five years on Evelyn, did that mean my entire life was ruined?
Stripping away the label of "Evelyn Carter's husband," I was still an award-winning designer and a brilliant curator.
It was time I lived for myself.
"Oh my god! Look, shooting stars!"
Clara's gasp broke the silence. I followed her gaze toward the horizon, watching silver streaks of light slash across the ink-black canvas of the night sky.
While I was still in a daze, Clara nudged my arm urgently.
"Hurry up and make a wish! If you miss this meteor shower, you'll have to wait years for the next one!"
I chuckled softly at the sight of her squeezing her eyes shut, pressing her palms together with utter solemnity.
When I was with Evelyn, I had also believed in wishes coming true. Every birthday, every New Year's Eve, I had taken them so seriously.
I had once invited Evelyn to watch a meteor shower with me, but she had sneered in contempt.
She always mocked me for being superstitious, calling such things a childish waste of time.
She would always say: "Logan, instead of daydreaming about wishes, why don't you do something practical? How old are you to still be this naive?"
After that day, I never mentioned stargazing or wishes to her ever again.
Now, sitting beside Clara, I mirrored her posture—pressing my hands together, closing my eyes, and offering a silent prayer to the night sky.
"If wishes really work, I hope I can completely let go of Evelyn Carter, sever every tie to the past, and welcome a new life."
When I opened my eyes, the shooting stars had vanished, and Clara was looking straight at me.
Maybe it was the alcohol, but my reactions were sluggish. When Clara gently leaned her head against my shoulder, I didn't pull away.
She stayed there quietly, and within moments, her breathing grew soft and steady.
I carefully picked her up, carried her into her tent, tucked her into her sleeping bag, and then returned to my own tent.
When I checked my phone, I saw dozens of missed calls from Julian's number.
I knew Evelyn had realized she was blocked and was using her secretary's phone to hunt me down.
Without bothering to read any of the angry texts, I blocked Julian's number as well.The next morning, on the bus back into town, Clara sat next to me scrolling through entertainment news on her phone.
The host was reporting dramatically on the sudden postponement of Carter Design Group's grand three-year retrospective exhibition, sparking wild speculation across the creative industry.
Clara had no idea about my history with Evelyn. She leaned over, showing me the screen with a disappointed sigh.
"I used to admire Evelyn Carter so much, and I was looking forward to this showcase. Why did it get delayed out of nowhere?"
"I hope they work it out soon... Wait, Logan, didn't you study fine arts too? Do you know her?"
I glanced briefly at the woman being surrounded by reporters on the screen, keeping my mouth shut.
Over the past few years, Evelyn had built an illustrious name for herself in the design world. But every single layout, concept, and curation had been produced by me behind closed doors.
Back then, I foolishly thought a married couple shared everything. What did it matter who took the public spotlight?
Yet Evelyn had rested on my uncredited labor for so long that she had completely forgotten her own lack of talent.
The moment I walked away without hesitation, her empire suffered an immediate, crushing blow.
She had assumed I was the same pathetic fool as before—that whenever she snapped her fingers, I would crawl back, soothe my own bruised ego, and stand dutifully by her side.
Only when all her messages hit dead ends and her calls were blocked did she finally realize things were spiraling entirely out of her control.
She believed our marriage was something I had bought with my own career and my mother's dying wish, convincing herself that I would never dare walk away.
She thought that just because we hadn't filed the legal marriage papers yet, she could bring a man who looked like her dead lover into our home, and I would simply endure it in silence.
Now, panic had finally set in.
Clara and I walked back to the old apartment building. Heading up the stairs, I asked her where she planned to move once the area was cleared.
Clara paused, as if she hadn't given it much thought until I asked.
She gave a small, resilient smile. "It's just me, so anywhere works. Once the compensation check clears, I can finally pay off all those old debts. If there's enough left, I'd really love to study abroad!"
"Watch out," I warned.
The zipper on her backpack had split, and her compact sleeping bag was slipping out.
If I hadn't caught it in time, it would have dropped right onto her foot.
I instinctively knelt down to grab it just as Clara bent over. Our foreheads knocked together with a soft thud.
She lost her balance and landed flat on the concrete step behind her.
We both froze for a second, then burst out laughing.
Looking at her bright, unburdened smile, the heavy cloud hanging over my chest seemed to dissolve.
I slowly raised my hand, intending to brush a stray lock of hair from her cheek, when heavy footsteps echoed down the stairwell above us.
Immediately after came Evelyn's furious screech.
"Logan! I knew you were sleeping around behind my back!"
Chapters (4)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Watch & Promotions
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