A Decade of Misplaced Devotion

Six months ago, Laurent carelessly tossed a cigarette butt, starting a fire in the conference room. To let him escape first, Stella used my body as a shield.

In the end, my back got third-degree burns.

I lay in bed, groaning in agony, while Stella took the unscathed Laurent on a so-called stress-relief trip.

A month later, on the day I got discharged, she finally showed up with nothing but mean words. "You chewed Laurent out in front of everyone that day, which put him in a bad mood and led him to smoke in the conference room. He's had nightmares for a month. Go apologize to him, and then we'll get married. Deal?"

I'd caved for love back then. But from that moment on, my feelings for her started to fade. Until the wedding, when she left with Laurent, my love for her died completely.

Unsettled by my silence, she hurled a few more harsh words and stormed out.

After the doctor checked me over, I grabbed my phone to hire a caregiver. But as I scrolled through my feed, I saw Laurent had taken that Husky to my new house and let it defecate all over my bed.

In the video, he grinned at the camera. "Mr. Rowe, I heard this method can cure your dog's fur allergy. Don't thank me too much."

Rage surged through me, and I hammered Stella's number until my phone nearly died. When she finally answered, her voice was laced with irritation. "What, regretting it now? Ready to apologize to Laurent?"

"Apologize my ass!" The curse flew out before I could stop it. "Did you take Laurent to my place? That's trespassing and vandalism. I can sue you both!"

Stella froze, then shot back, "Who are you swearing at? Don't get ahead of yourself! You said that the house was a gift for me, right? So, it's mine! Besides, you roughed up Laurent, and he was just venting. That's already merciful. Don't act like the victim! I was even considering getting the marriage license with you, but since you're so unrepentant, forget it. I'm marrying Laurent instead."

Right after her words, Laurent's excited voice chimed in, "Really? Don't toy with me, Stella."

"Absolutely. We're going right now."

"Wow, so tonight's our wedding night? Let's handle the important stuff first, then make it official. Come here, babe."

What followed was a nauseating, sloppy kissing sound. My hand trembled as I gripped the phone. Those scum were doing shit in my house.

First thing after discharge, I'd put the house on sale.

My phone suddenly rang, interrupting my thoughts. It was the honeymoon hotel I had booked a while ago. "Mr. Rowe, we're confirming your honeymoon suite booking. What's the check-in time?"

I took a deep breath and replied firmly, "Cancel it. I don't need it anymore."

But then, I changed my mind. "Hold up! Postpone it by a week. And fill the room with red roses. Thanks."

Three days later, I was finally out of the hospital. I'd lined up a realtor to sell the house, so I headed home early to pack.

Pushing open the door, I caught Laurent stepping out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. His bare chest was covered in scratches and bite marks.

...

He jumped at the sight of me, but his shock soon melted into a smug grin.

Before I could say a word, Stella emerged from the same bathroom, also in a towel. She cooed, "Honey, you were amazing just now. I..."

Her voice died in her throat as she spotted me standing there. She faltered, then gathered her courage to ask sharply, "Why didn't you tell me you were coming home?"