My Wife's Former Lover Set Our House on Fire When I Got Cancer

"How could you act so stupid? You set a fire and got yourself burned like this. Was it fun to see the consequence of your action?"

Even now, Serena believed that I was the one who started the fire. It was me who was jealous and putting on an act. Even though I wanted to explain, my throat was too scorched to form words. The pain in my chest from my broken ribs was unbearable.

Desperate, I reached for her sleeve, hoping she’d finally understand that I needed help. But she hesitated for only a second before shoving my hand away.

"Nice performance. If Roman hadn’t told me you hid after setting the fire, I might have believed you."

With that, she turned and walked away without a second thought.

The next moment, I heard someone shout, "Serena! Blood! He’s bleeding!"

"Is he actually injured?"

"Don’t worry about him," Serena said coldly.

"Roman said James’ blood is just fake blood. He’s just acting fragile, that’s all. Let him keep up the act if he wants to."

The pain became too much. My vision blurred. After that, everything faded into darkness.

In my dreams, I returned to the time I first met Serena.

At a university lecture, Serena stood on stage. Her expression was as cold as ice. Her professional skills were unmatched to none. She had an aura that made many men want to challenge her. I was no exception.

The moment I saw Serena, I was captivated. I started asking around, trying to learn everything I could about her. At that time, I was just an intern lecturer. She barely acknowledged me.

Determined to earn her attention, I worked harder than ever. When I finally became a full-time professor, I invited Serena to dinner as a thank-you dinner. That night, I noticed something change in the way she looked at me.

I seized the opportunity, pursuing her with everything I had with flowers, cakes and expensive gifts. Eventually, I got what I wanted. She accepted my confession. I thought it was the start of something beautiful. But in reality, it was the beginning of my nightmare.

Once we were together, Serena became distant. Every date was interrupted by work or an emergency rescue. I never doubted her excuses. Not until our wedding day. That morning, an email arrived from overseas.

It was from Roman.

He had documented their ten-year relationship in excruciating detail. Every moment they had shared, every memory they created together. It was all there. The truth shattered me.

Every time she canceled on me, every time she disappeared, she had been with him. And the worst part? I didn’t even have the courage to confront her. I was terrified she would leave me.

In my past life, after Roman died, Serena had been eerily calm. For a moment, I had foolishly thought that meant I had won. But I never knew how wrong I was.

Even though I was terminally ill and dying, I thought I was the happiest man in the world. Unfortunately, the sudden rush of love clouded my judgment, made me reckless. I stopped thinking rationally.

It wasn’t until I was discharged from the hospital, only to die by her hands, that I finally understood one thing. Serena never loved me. She wasn't risking her life for me. She was taking her revenge.

Because in Serena’s heart, from beginning to end, the only person she truly loved was Roman.