The Heartbreak Prescription

Stanley's thin lips curved into a frosty arc. "Wendy, get back here immediately!"

Wendy chuckled. "You expect me to come back just because you said so? We're divorced, Stanley. I'm not going to continue indulging you!"

Stanley clenched his jaw. "I'll give you a chance to rewrite the reason for divorce!"

Wendy's tone grew more playful.

"Did I write anything wrong? Stanley, it's been six months since you woke up, hasn't it? Yet, in these six months, you haven't even held my hand. You were in a coma for three years, and although you're physically healthy now, I have legitimate reasons to believe you've developed functional problems. You're not potent anymore! Better hurry to find an experienced naturopath. As our parting gift, I wish you an early recovery of your manhood!"

Stanley was rendered speechless. The veins on his forehead were visibly twitching.

This woman was out of control.

"Wendy, I'll make you regret this! You'll know what I'm capable of sooner or later!"

"Sorry, but you'll never get the chance!"

"Wendy!"

The call abruptly ended with two cold beeps. He hadn't even had time to explode in anger before hearing the disconnected tone.

'Wendy…!'

-

Wendy had already arrived at her best friend Cecelia Sunder's apartment. After she hung up the phone, Cecelia burst out laughing and gave her a big thumbs-up.

"Wendy, that was amazing! Stanley must be so furious, he's spitting blood right now."

Wendy reflected that she had been too humble in the past, which had allowed him to act superior to her for so long.

'Love yourself first. A woman must always prioritize self-love.'

"Three years ago, when Jessica learned Stanley went into a coma after the car accident, she immediately ran away. Now that he's awake, he's crawling back to her? What a joke! You're better off without a man like that," Cecelia commented.

Wendy unwrapped a candy and popped it into her mouth. The sweetness seemed to mask the bitterness in her heart. "That's how you tell if you're loved or not, Cecelia."

Those who were loved were fearless. Those who weren't lived in constant insecurity.

Cecelia noticed Wendy had already gone through a pile of candies. She pulled Wendy to her feet.

"Wendy, cheer up! When you give up one tree, you'll discover an entire forest waiting for you. Tonight, I'm booking eight male hosts to celebrate you becoming single!"

Wendy covered her forehead and laughed.

Cecelia suddenly snatched Wendy's black-rimmed glasses off her face, tossing them into the trash.

Wendy tried to retrieve them. "My glasses—"

Cecelia stopped her. "Wendy, you've been in academic research for too long, and you've gotten used to wearing these glasses. But you should take a page out of Jessica's book and doll yourself up."

Wendy thought about how her parents had always told her she was an ugly duckling while Jessica was a swan. It wasn't just her parents—Stanley must have thought the same. In his eyes, she was just an ugly duckling too.

Cecelia dragged Wendy to the door. "Come on, we're going shopping! Hair, nails, clothes—everything! I want Stanley and everyone else to see how stunning you can be!"

As they walked out, Cecelia suddenly remembered something. "Oh, Wendy, are you really not taking any money from Stanley after the divorce?"

"I have my own money," Wendy replied.

"Letting Jessica spend Stanley's money instead? Jessica says thank you!" Cecelia teased.

Wendy didn't know what to say to that.

"What about the card Stanley gave you?" Cecelia pressed.

Stanley was always generous and had given Wendy a premium black card. However, she had never used it.

Wendy pulled the black card out of her purse and winked playfully. "Today, I'll splurge—and let Stanley foot the bill."

-

That evening, at 1996 Bar.

1996 Bar was Hovendale's playground for the rich, where young heirs and the city's elites spent extravagantly. The music was never-ending, and the dance floor was wild.

In a luxurious and dimly lit booth, Stanley sat in the center of a leather sofa. Tonight, he had on a black shirt paired with black trousers. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his toned forearms and a steel watch worth millions. His aristocratic, striking features made him the center of attention, drawing glances from countless women in the bar.

Beside him was his close friend, Benny Gondale—the heir of the Gondale family—and several other young elites.

Benny laughed. "Stanley, are you serious? Wendy wants a divorce?"

The others laughed along. "Everyone knows Wendy loves Stanley to the bone. When he was in a coma, she insisted on marrying him. There's no way she'd actually go through with a divorce."

"Let's bet on it. How long do you think Wendy can hold out before begging Stanley to take her back?"

Benny smirked. "I bet she can't even make it through tonight. She's probably already sent Stanley a message."

Stanley's chiseled features remained cold and sharp, his mood clearly sour. He pulled out his phone and opened WhatsApp to check their chat history.

The last message from Wendy was from last night. She had sent a photo of the broth with the caption, [Honey, even though your bone density is back to normal, you should still drink this broth regularly. Don't come home too late!]

As he scrolled up, he saw countless similar messages—all from Wendy. She messaged him every day.

He had never replied. Not once.

Today, the chat was silent.

Stanley felt a vague sense of irritation.

Ding!

A notification popped up.

"See? I told you—Wendy messaged you!" Benny immediately exclaimed.

Ding, ding, ding!

Several more notifications followed in quick succession.

The group burst out laughing. "We knew it—Wendy couldn't hold out! But we didn't expect her to cave so fast."

"Stanley, open them. Let's see how Wendy is begging you to reconcile," Benny urged.

Stanley's sharp eyebrows lifted slightly. Did she really send a message? If she regretted it so quickly, why did she make such a fuss this morning?

He tapped on the notifications, only to freeze.

Benny leaned over and read aloud, "Dear VVIP customer, your card ending in 0975 has been charged 800 dollars at Dazzling Nail Salon."

The group collectively frowned.

Stanley scrolled further.

2,000 dollars at Artistry Hair Salon.

86,000 dollars at Chanel.

240,000 dollars at Louis Vuitton.

There were no messages about reconciliations, only transaction notifications. The group fell silent, feeling like Wendy had slapped them all hard in the face.

Stanley's expression darkened and he slammed his phone onto the table. He didn't care how much money Wendy spent. What bothered him was that she had gone on a shopping spree right after their divorce. This woman was something else!

The once submissive Wendy, who had clung to him for three years, now seemed to have grown fangs.

"Stanley, what's Wendy up to? She's gone to do her nails and hair, and buy clothes. Is she trying to imitate Jessica?" Benny commented.

"Jessica is Hovendale's Red Rose. Wendy's just a country bumpkin. No matter how hard she tries, she'll only be a pale imitation."

"A swan is a swan. An ugly duckling will always be an ugly duckling."

Everyone laughed at Wendy.

Suddenly, there was a commotion in the bar. All eyes turned toward the entrance.

Someone gasped, "Look—an angel just walked in!"