After Three Years of Entanglement with Him, I'm Covered In Bruises

I thought of the man, who called me his wife tenderly.

"In the end, do they both like Paisley?"

"And what about me? What am I?"

Finally, my consciousness fell into chaos.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself lying in the hospital.

...

There was a figure beside me.

I instinctively thought it was George. Turning my head away, I didn't want to have a look.

I heard a childish voice unexpectedly.

"Are you awake?"

I turned my head and saw a half-grown boy, looking thin and dark. He was nervous after seeing me wake up.

"The person on the phone couldn't get through. I paid for the medical expenses."

At this time, a doctor walked in sternly.

"You don't even know your health condition. You had a high fever and went into shock. If it weren't for this kind-hearted boy..."

Only then did I understand the situation.

It turned out that I fainted on the roadside. This half-grown boy discovered me and sent me here.

I had a high fever all night in the hospital. I only recovered in the early morning.

After repaying the boy's money and saying a few words of thanks, I hurriedly returned home.

No one was at home.

I opened the diary inexplicably and read the last few entries.

[If you like him...]

[I will make your wish come true, even if it means using any means necessary.]

"What else do I not understand when I read this?"

"Paisley likes Zachary."

"George has been accompanying me and infatuated with me by my side."

"He does so to prevent me from getting back together with Zachary and interfering with Paisley's happy life."

My heart seemed to be torn into pieces. As I smiled, tears fell.

The nanny gently knocked on the door. I casually responded.

"Miss Paisley from the White family has a high fever. No one is taking care of her. Mr. Marshall and Miss Lydia will stay there. They won't come back."

I laughed at myself.

"I didn't notice such obvious details before."

"What's even more foolish is that I can't bear to let go of these false beauties."

Concealing my disappointment, I calmly spoke.

"It doesn't matter."

"Alice, please clear out my things."

Alice was puzzled, asking, "Mrs. Marshall, what's this about?"

I smiled, saying, "Go clear them out."

"Once I let go, it becomes easier."

Soon, my things were cleared out. I called a moving company to pack them up and send them to another place.

I looked at the empty home. The only thing left was the paintings in the studio.

Early the next morning...

I had someone move all the paintings out and pile them in the yard.

Among them, the majority were portraits.

I looked at the pile of paintings on the ground.

in the paintings, there were George's affectionate eyes, Lydia's smiling face, and countless moments that once witnessed my happiness.

I had someone help me pile the paintings in the yard and set them on fire.

The flames shot up and engulfed the scrolls.

When the flames were roaring...

George came back with Lydia.

He looked at the burned paintings, frowning and asking, "What's wrong with you?"

It wasn't until the flames engulfed the familiar profile on the paintings that I looked up at George.

"George, let's get a divorce."