Love Is Ever-Changing, Yet Sincerely Felt

Joseph's attitude toward me became even worse than it had been before the car accident.

The six months of his coma had affected many things.

It affected his company, things at home, and his relationship with Rebecca.

He grumbled, "Because of you, I missed out on so much. Marlene, everything you're doing now is to atone for your sins."

He forced me to kneel on the ground, wiping the floor bit by bit with a rag. To vent his anger, he purposely made things difficult for me. If he found the slightest stain, he would lose his temper with me.

He snapped, "Is this how you take care of me? You've lived as a spoiled girl for so long, now that you're back to your true self, it's hard to adjust, isn't it?"

I didn't argue and resigned myself to cleaning.

That night, I was in the kitchen cooking oatmeal when Joseph suddenly barged in.

A bottle-like object was hurled at my face, and a sharp pain shot through my nose.

His sarcastic and furious voice rang out.

He said, "You put me in a coma for six months, and look at you, enjoying yourself so much you made yourself sick?"

The pain lingered, and I locked eyes with him.

On the floor was a bottle of disinfectant for women.

Instinctively, I tried to pick it up and hide it, but just as my hand touched it, Joseph's foot came down hard.

He snorted, "Covering it up. What's the point? As expected of a mutt with a thief's bloodline, you'll always be doing shameful things."

His leather shoe ground into my palm, the intense pain making me scream.

His vicious words drilled into my ears as he looked down at me with a cruelty I had never seen before.

He said, "The Harper family doesn't want anything filthy. Trash like you isn't worthy of being my wife.

"Divorce. You'll receive nothing, and then, get out of my world."

I looked up at him. In the 25 years we had known each other, I had never felt him so unfamiliar.

Tears fell rapidly as I trembled.

I said, "I understand."

He lifted his foot and turned to leave without sparing me another glance.

The next day, his divorce papers arrived at the house.

Everything was clearly listed.

I didn't hesitate to sign it.

I left the divorce agreement on the coffee table and packed my luggage.

I realized that perhaps I had been too slow to let go. I should have given up six months ago.

But I kept hoping that there might still be a little love left in him for me.

So, on that fateful day, I didn't hesitate to call him.

Crying, I begged him, "It feels like someone's hiding in the house. Can you come back quickly? I'm so scared."

He half-believed me and agreed, but he never expected to get into a car accident on the way back.

At the same time, the intruder in the house broke down my bedroom door and dragged me out of the closet where I had been hiding.

After enduring the torment, I received the news of Joseph's accident.

I had no energy to care about the intruder who had fled. Dragging my body, I rushed straight to the hospital.

It wasn't until after his surgery was over and he was out of danger that I realized I needed to report the crime.

No one knew about this incident, not even the parents who had raised me.

They were in the mountains, accompanying Rebecca on a project.

I lost track of how many times I felt delirious and on the verge of collapse.

But with Joseph lying unconscious in the hospital bed, I told myself to stay strong.

I used him as my emotional anchor, repeatedly telling myself not to be afraid. When Joseph woke up, he would stand up for me and protect me.

During the six months I spent by his bedside, I clung to this belief and our shared past, enduring day by day.

But when he finally woke up, my illusions shattered in an instant.

Perhaps I truly was a fool.

I should have understood long ago that he no longer loved me.

So, I bought a plane ticket to a volunteer base.

I thought, in this world, there must be a place where I was still needed.