Her Best Friend Broke Our Marriage

But it doesn’t matter. I’ve already made up my mind to divorce her.

Perhaps startled by my silence, Maxwell looked uneasy. “I’m sorry, Zachary. I didn’t think registering my fingerprint would upset you. I’ll ask Michelle to delete it before I leave.”

“Michelle, tomorrow I’ll just wait outside until you're done with work, and then we’ll have dinner. A few minutes late at the hospital won’t matter to patients, but I don’t mind waiting…”

I think Maxwell and I give off different auras. Just a few words from me and he always turns timid.

Whenever that happens, people think I’m bullying him.

And that’s exactly what’s happening now.

“No need to delete it.”

Michelle gave me a cold look, then stood and patted Maxwell’s shoulder to comfort him.

“I registered his fingerprint. If you have a problem, say it to me. Don’t take it out on someone innocent.”

She didn’t notice that her so-called “innocent” friend was now tilting his head and flashing me a smug smile.

I pressed my lips together—then suddenly laughed.

Across the room, I asked Michelle, “You’ve always said you see him like a younger brother. That’s why you take care of him, right?”

She hesitated, then nodded.

I nodded too—and finally voiced the question that had weighed on me for three years.

“After I married you, didn’t that make me his brother-in-law? Has he ever called me that? Did you ever ask him to?”

“Even on our wedding day, when the elders asked him to offer a toast, he got drunk out of his mind. You were so worried, you stayed by his side all night—while I spent my wedding night alone.”

“I didn’t know being a half-brother ranked two levels above a new husband. If I’d known, maybe I’d have adopted a half-sister, just to experience it...”

“Zachary Bennett!”

Before I could finish, Michelle cut me off sharply, her face clouded with anger.

She turned to soothe Maxwell, who looked like he was about to cry and swore he’d jump off a building to prove his innocence.

“If you can’t speak properly, then leave. Stop being so sarcastic.”

“People with a filthy heart see everything as dirty.”

“That’s your answer?”

My expression darkened.

Spiteful as it was, wasn’t that just the truth?

I slammed the office door behind me. Michelle and I parted on bitter terms.

The news quickly reached her father, who wasted no time scolding me.

“Michelle’s running a huge company—so busy she barely eats. And what about you? You can’t help her solve anything. You can’t even let her relax. So what if I find someone else to ease her stress? And you—filthy liar, tricking my daughter into marrying a gay man—what right do you have to complain?”

My hand clenched involuntarily at my side. My heart grew colder.

To help Maxwell play his role, Michelle even trashed my dignity—dragging seven or eight strangers before the elders, accusing me of having affairs with them.

“You take the blame now, and I’ll find time to explain everything to my family later.”

I waited over a month for that explanation.

What I got was a new wave of slanderous posts.

I ended the call without a word, leaning wearily against the sofa.

My mind drifted to the past.

Michelle and I weren’t each other’s firsts. When we met, she only ran a modest business.

I joined her company, helped with partnership deals. We’d often entertain clients late into the night, taking turns dealing with those hard-drinking bosses.