Chapter 1 On our fifth wedding anniversary, I brought out the plum wine my husband and I had brewed together on our wedding night. We had originally agreed to finally open the jar today, but I discovered that half of it was inexplicably missing. I texted Ethan Davis to ask about it. He replied quickly: [Honey, the last time you went out, I missed you so much I just had to sneak a little taste.] I smiled, affectionately teasing him for having no self-control. But when I opened my Instagram feed, I saw an update from his new intern assistant. [Thanks to my boyfriend for the treat. Five-year aged plum wine really does have a unique flavor.] ... The accompanying photo showed a corner of her boyfriend's suit jacket. The cufflink visible in the shot was the exact one I had given Ethan for his birthday last year. My fingertips turned ice-cold as I quickly scrolled through her profile. Her feed was full of subtle, humble-brag posts about her relationship, and several mutual friends had commented: [Not bad, Sydney's boyfriend! He brewed this plum wine himself?] [When are you going to bring this boyfriend out for us to meet? You're hiding him too well!] Sydney Miller replied with a shy emoji: [He brewed it with his own hands. It's the only jar like it in the world.] [Just wait a little longer. We'll give everyone a surprise when the time comes.] Scrolling further down, I found a post Sydney made yesterday. In the center was a massive bouquet of Ecuadorian roses, with a card that read, "To the most special you." I recognized the handwriting. It was Ethan's. Yesterday was my birthday. I had eagerly prepared a romantic candlelit dinner, but I waited all night and he never showed up. Disheartened, I had dumped the cold steak into the trash. He came home late that night, hugging me and acting sweet. "I'm so sorry, honey. I was so busy today I completely forgot. We're an old married couple now, we don't need to fuss over these formalities." I wanted to be close to him, but he gently pushed me away. "Honey, I'm exhausted. Let's do it next time." It turns out he didn't forget; he just saved all his romance for someone else. My phone suddenly buzzed with a new notification. Sydney had updated her story. The photo showed two hands tightly intertwined. [The new toys arrived, perfect timing to test them out tonight~] Mutual friends immediately started teasing her, leaving a string of suggestive emojis in the comments. My stomach churned, and I felt so sick I almost threw up. Right then, Ethan's call came through. I stared at the word "Hubby" flashing on the screen, feeling an unprecedented sense of irony. When I answered, his voice came through—deliberately lowered and sounding slightly fatigued. "Stella, the station called an emergency planning meeting. It might run really late, so don't wait up for me." Before he could hang up, I stopped him. "Ethan, are you wearing the cufflinks I gave you today?" The other end of the line went silent for two seconds. Then came his forced, lighthearted laugh. "Of course I'm wearing the ones my wife gave me." "I really have to go. I'll bring you some late-night takeout when I get back." But I knew there was no planning meeting at the station today. I had dropped off some interview materials for him this afternoon and bumped into his supervisor. Director Chen had smiled and said, "It's rare for Ethan to get off work on time tonight. Is he in a rush to get home to you?" At the time, my heart had fluttered with sweetness. Now, a lot of little details suddenly started making sense. This past year, Ethan had been working overtime more and more frequently, coming home later and later. He put a passcode on his phone and started taking it into the bathroom with him when he showered. Hugs and kisses had become routine chores. I thought it was just work stress, that our marriage had hit a plateau. I even blamed myself, wondering if I wasn't doing enough. Perhaps it wasn't a plateau; perhaps it had just gone rotten. Our framed photo still sat right in the center of my vanity. My fingertips brushed over his smiling eyes in the picture, and then I gently laid the frame face down on the table. When I worked at the news station, I exposed plenty of dark and ugly truths. My professional instincts trained me to look for evidence. The tragic comedy is that now, it's my turn to analyze my own marriage. I found the high-end restaurant from Sydney's location tag and dialed their reservation line. "Hello, I'd like to confirm if a Mr. Ethan Davis has a table reserved for tonight?" Chapter 2 Seven years ago, Ethan and I were known as the golden couple of the broadcasting station. He was the rising star of the late-night emotional advice hotline, and I was the prime-time news anchor. The station had a policy: couples couldn't hold identical anchor positions. He held me, his voice muffled and unhappy. "Stella, you're more talented than I am. I can't hold you back." My heart melted into a puddle, and the very next day, I voluntarily submitted a transfer request. I went from being the station's top anchor to a field reporter. Back then, I thought love meant sacrificing, meant stepping back. Later, as his career steadily climbed, people started jokingly calling him the "King of the Station." Ethan suggested I take a leave of absence for a while so we could have a baby. That "while" turned into two years. We did have intimate, happy times at first. He would prep late-night snacks for me and help me research before my interviews. But when did his thoughtfulness disappear? He wanted to discuss ideas for a new show, but I was busy brewing herbal medicine. He wanted to take me to the station's annual gala, but I was exhausted from the fertility injections and shook my head, refusing. Once, Ethan threw away my ovulation test strips. "Stella, can you think about anything other than getting pregnant right now?" Only now do I understand what he really meant. He despised that I had lost the spark I had when I was working. But he was the one who said he wanted a child. He was the one who said, "Come home, I'll take care of you." I took him at his word. And he forgot that his title as the "King of the Station" was bought with my sacrifice. I found an inconspicuous parking spot on the side of the street. Through the restaurant's floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw Ethan feeding Sydney dessert. He affectionately kissed the younger girl's forehead. In that moment, my tears finally fell, blurring my vision. I bit down hard on my lower lip until I tasted the heavy, metallic tang of blood. While I was still blaming myself for our failure to conceive, he had already given all his tenderness and romance to someone else. How laughable. With trembling hands, I picked up my phone and opened my chat with Sydney Miller: [Assistant Miller, you joined the station late, so you might not be aware. Ethan Davis and I are legally married.] A reply popped up almost immediately. [I know. Before I even started my internship, I totally shipped you two. I thought it was a match made in heaven.] [But do you really think you're worthy of him now? You spend your days revolving around the stove and the hospital, your face is sallow, and you look like a middle-aged housewife. Mr. Davis needs a soulmate who can stand beside him and admire the view.] Immediately after, a photo came through. Judging by the angle, it was taken in front of a hotel vanity mirror. Ethan's back was to the camera. He seemed to have just gotten out of the shower, his hair still wet. Sydney smiled, arrogant and triumphant, wearing a sexy black lace nightgown. [We're going to try out those new toys tonight, washed-up senior~] [Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. Mr. Davis was worried that getting pregnant would be bad for my body, so he got a vasectomy a year ago.] I covered my mouth, swallowing down the bloody taste rising in my throat. No wonder we hadn't had any success after trying for so long. I had always thought it was my fault. I took a deep breath, wiping the tears from my face and the blood from my lips. I dialed a number I hadn't called in a very long time. The phone only rang twice before it was answered. The voice of an older man came through, his concern evident. "Stella, what's happened so late at night?" My voice was hoarse as I spoke. "Professor... two years ago, you mentioned there was an anchor position open at the national network, and you asked if I wanted it..." The line went silent for a moment, then he spoke firmly: "The position has always been kept open for you. The program I specifically designed for you is ready to start recording anytime." "Did you run into trouble? Go find your upperclassman, she's a big-shot lawyer now." My eyes welled up. "I need to clean house, and I need a fresh start." Chapter 3 Ethan didn't come home that night, and I didn't sleep a wink. First thing the next morning, I drove straight to the broadcasting station. I had spent the most vibrant and spirited years of my life here. I swiped my old access card and walked right in. Ethan's office was at the end of the hallway. I was just about to push the door open. A voice dripping with feigned surprise rang out, "What brings Reporter Hayes here?" Sydney's eyes still held the lingering traces of last night's passion and satisfaction. She let out an exaggerated sigh. "Mr. Davis was up very late working on a proposal last night, and he just had a morning meeting. He's catching up on some sleep now." "If you need something, why don't you tell me?" Her eyes were full of provocation. I scoffed coldly. "What could I possibly have to say to you? Discuss how you knowingly became a mistress?" Sydney's face changed slightly, a malicious look crossing her features. Suddenly, she threw the coffee in her hand all over herself. Then she grabbed the front of her blouse and yanked it hard, revealing her bra! Her eyes instantly turned red, and she put on a pitiful, bullied expression. "Reporter Hayes, I'm just an intern, I can't afford to offend you..." She sobbed and ran out into the hallway, conveniently bumping into a few colleagues who were walking by. "Sydney, what happened?!" Sydney immediately hid behind a colleague, sniffling, "It was my fault for accidentally bumping into Reporter Hayes. It's only right that she taught me a lesson. I'll listen to her and go write my resignation letter right now..." Her words were like pouring oil on a fire. The way the colleagues looked at me instantly changed. "Stella, Sydney is still young. If you have something to say, can't you just talk it out?" "You don't even work at the station anymore. Barging in here and causing a scene like this, do you know how hard this makes things for Mr. Davis? It's not easy for him to support the family." "Sydney works really hard, and Mr. Davis praises her all the time. How could you do this?" "You just rely on Mr. Davis to support you, where do you get off having such a huge temper?!" From behind them, Sydney shot me a triumphant smirk. Just then, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out to see a long voice memo from Ethan's mother. I played it directly on speakerphone for everyone to hear: "I asked around and got another folk remedy for having a boy! This one is guaranteed to work!" "You need the urine of a virgin boy born on the fifteenth of March, mixed with rooster blood, and you have to drink it right at midnight. You absolutely must try it tonight!" I smiled, and in front of everyone, I recorded a voice reply: "Your son had a vasectomy. How exactly am I supposed to get pregnant?" Ethan, who had rushed over upon hearing the commotion, turned beet red. He stepped forward, grabbed my arm, and tried to pull me away. "Stella has been under a lot of stress lately and isn't mentally stable. Please excuse her." He dragged me into the fire escape stairwell and hissed in a low voice: "Stella, what the hell are you doing causing a scene at the station?!" I pressed my lips together and said coldly: "What is your relationship with Sydney Miller?" Ethan froze for a second, then helplessly ruffled my hair. "The girl is young, and her family is pressuring her to get married. She's just using me as a shield." "She knows we're married. Don't worry, you're the only one in my heart." I was about to say something else when a colleague called out from the hallway: "Ethan, the morning news is about to start. You should review the script." He gently tried to kiss my lips. "Honey, wait until I get home tonight, and I'll explain everything properly." I turned my head, dodging his kiss. He was still trying to maintain the illusion of a loving marriage, but I was exhausted. Chapter 4 I wanted to give Ethan a chance to have a real conversation. But he chose to avoid it, calling me late that night instead. "Assistant Miller has a fever. I just took her to the hospital. The poor girl is quite pitiful." I let out a soft laugh. "Does she not have a family? When did you become her next of kin?" Ethan's voice suddenly pitched up, laced with impatience. "Stella, why have you become so bitter? She's a young girl, fresh out of college, all alone in the city. What's wrong with a colleague helping her out when she's sick?!" He suddenly let out a muffled groan. I recognized that sound. It was the sound he made when he was turned on. Ethan took a heavy breath, his voice softening. "Stella, you've got some misunderstandings about me lately. We'll have a proper talk tomorrow. I got you a surprise gift." "I remember. Tomorrow is our fifth wedding anniversary." Our anniversary had passed a long time ago. The screen went dark, reflecting my mocking sneer. While he was on the phone, Sydney had intermittently sent me several more provocative messages. [Just now, Mr. Davis wanted to lose his temper with you. I helped him relieve the fire down below.] [He's keeping me company all night tonight, so don't bother waiting up.] [He said he has to go home tomorrow to deal with you for a bit. Looking at your washed-up face really ruins his appetite.] Expressionless, I screen-recorded and saved all the photos and videos she sent. The next day, I went to the broadcasting station again. Many eyes in the office area turned toward me, followed by the sound of whispering. Ethan walked briskly out of his office. His gaze landed on the bag in my hand, and his smile deepened. "Stella, did you come to bring me a gift?" Instead, I pulled out the jar of plum wine and simply let go. The jar shattered, and the liquor splashed everywhere. Everyone was stunned. The smile vanished from Ethan's face, replaced by shock and a hint of anger. "Stella, what kind of crazy stunt is this?!" I didn't answer him, walking straight toward the backup broadcast studio. He seemed to realize something and tried to step forward and grab me. But I was faster. I slipped inside and locked the door behind me. The microphone in there was always on, connected to the internal PA system. I pressed the talk button, and my voice echoed through every corner of this floor via the internal broadcast. "Colleagues, sorry to interrupt for a few minutes. This is Stella Hayes, former reporter for the news department." Ethan charged to the studio door, pounding furiously on the glass. I ignored him. "My husband, Ethan Davis, on one hand, persuaded me to take a leave of absence under the pretense of wanting a child, while on the other, to try new things with Assistant Miller, he voluntarily underwent a vasectomy." "And Assistant Miller, knowing full well he was married, willingly acted as the other woman, repeatedly sending me intimate photos to provoke me." Ethan's face was ghostly white. Sydney was already panicking, trembling visibly. I tapped my phone screen a few times. The next second, the station's largest internal work group chats exploded simultaneously! I uploaded all of their intimate photos and videos. I turned off the microphone and pushed open the studio door. The way my colleagues looked at me was now filled with pity. Sydney was still crying and throwing a tantrum. "Stella, you bitch! Have you no shame?!" "By doing this, you're trying to destroy me and Mr. Davis." I turned a deaf ear to her, slapped Ethan hard across the face, and said resolutely: "We're getting a divorce!" A bright red handprint quickly surfaced on Ethan's face. He looked disheveled, staring at me in sheer disbelief. There were collective gasps of shock around us. Colleagues whispered among themselves, but no one dared to intervene. Sydney's eyes went wide. She probably didn't expect me to actually get physical. She certainly didn't expect things to completely spiral out of her and Ethan's control, reaching such an humiliating climax. Ethan glared at me, his eyes full of anger. "Stella, did you really have to make this so ugly?" I pulled back my stinging hand. "Ugly?" "Ethan, you and she drank the plum wine I brewed with my own hands on our anniversary. You strung me along about getting pregnant while getting a vasectomy for her." "Piece by piece, this has gone way past 'ugly'." Sydney, her hair a mess, charged at me. "I didn't! You're slandering me and Mr. Davis!" "You photoshopped all those pictures and videos! Mr. Davis doesn't even like old, barren women like you! You're the one clinging to him!" Ethan let out a low growl and tried to pull her back, but it was too late. Sydney's words were pouring gasoline on a fire. An older female editor nearby couldn't help but speak up. "Ethan, plenty of people at the station know Reporter Hayes took a leave to prepare for pregnancy. But you got a vasectomy for your little girlfriend? How is she supposed to get pregnant by herself?" "Yeah, that's just purely malicious." "Isn't that basically marriage fraud on Ethan's part?" The people who had initially wanted to watch the drama unfold now looked at me with nothing but sympathy. The veins on Ethan's forehead bulged. He suddenly raised his voice. "Enough!" He stared at me, a threatening edge to his tone. "Stella, we're going home to talk." "Whatever conditions you have, we'll discuss them privately. Stop making a fool of yourself here!" He tried to grab my hand, but I took a step back, dodging him. "That place stopped being my home a long time ago." I pulled the prepared divorce agreement from my bag and handed it to him. My voice was calm. "Sign it. Once you sign it, we're even." Ethan looked at the terms in the agreement, his voice trembling. "You want this much of the assets? Stella, you're being way too greedy!" Sydney snatched the agreement and yelled, "Mr. Davis earned all this money! Why should you get to take half of it?!" I ignored her screaming and sneered at Ethan. "For the past few years, I quit my job for you, becoming the washed-up housewife everyone thought relied on you to survive." "You got a vasectomy so you could have fun with Sydney, but you kept it from me and watched me take injections and medicine time and time again." "Can any of this be compensated with money?" I lowered my voice so only he could hear. "Or would you prefer I send all this evidence, along with Assistant Miller's lovely little speeches today, straight to the media?" "As reporters, we know exactly how to make a story go viral." "When that happens, it won't just be the people at the station laughing at you. Think about it carefully—will your title as 'King of the Station' survive that?" He went deathly pale and stumbled back a step. He looked at me in absolute disbelief. For the first time, he realized that the submissive, forgiving woman was gone. He took the pen and signed his name on the divorce agreement. I took the paperwork back. "My lawyer will contact you regarding the next steps." I took one last look at him. This man... I had loved him, trusted him, and was even willing to give up everything for him. Looking at him now, he felt incredibly like a stranger. "Goodbye, Ethan. Forever." With that, I turned around, walked through the crowd, and headed toward the elevator. The elevator doors slowly closed, shutting out that suffocating space. I pulled out my phone and sent a short text to my upperclassman: [He signed it.] [The rest is in your hands.] Ethan lay in bed, his mind filled with Stella's cold voice from the broadcast earlier that day, and Sydney's shrill cries. "Stella, you bitch! Do you think you won? You're just damaged goods nobody wants!" "Mr. Davis only kept you around because he pitied you for not having a job. Without Mr. Davis, you're nothing!" Who exactly was the damaged goods? He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Just then, his mother's call came in. Her voice was filled with fury. "Ethan Davis, where are you?!" "Get your ass home right now! Immediately!" "Mom, I have some things going on here..." "Some things? I heard all about what happened at the station!" His mother's voice cracked with tears. "You're messing around with that little hussy, and you got a vasectomy behind Stella's back?!" "Ethan, are you even human?!" "Do you know how much Stella suffered, how much bitter medicine she drank, just to have your baby? And this is how you treat her?!" Ethan's scalp prickled. He hadn't expected news to travel this fast, reaching even his mother. He tried to defend himself. "Mom, it's not what you think. Stella is overreacting. She's a bit mentally unstable..." His mother cursed directly at him. "Bullshit!" "I think you're the one whose brain got kicked by a donkey, or maybe you were bewitched by that shameless little demon!"
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