Chapter 2

Upon returning home, I sent him a message to come home.

He called almost immediately.

After I hung up, he called again, and I hung up again.

Ten minutes later, I heard the sound of him opening the door.

"What's wrong, honey? Is something wrong?"

Blake's face was pale, his eyes nervously scanning the room as he rushed in and hugged me without even changing his shoes.

As I remembered that he had just been flirting with another woman, I grabbed the trash can and vomited violently.

The physical and emotional toll of the day overwhelmed me, and I burst into tears.

His face changed dramatically, and he picked me up in a panic before asking, "Wendy, what's wrong? Let's go to the hospital now!"

I used all my strength to slap him.

"I’m going to divorce you!"

I only realized something after the words came out.

We had never officially registered our marriage. I had only taken some portrait photos with him without even wearing a wedding dress.

We had known each other for eight years and had been in love for five.

Those five years had brought me unprecedented happiness, so happy that I forgot that we weren't legally married.

Now I realized that I was the despicable other woman.

I couldn't suppress the bitter feeling in my heart.

Blake's face tilted slightly from my slap, and he looked at me in shock.

He didn't understand why my attitude had changed so suddenly, but he still patiently tried to soothe me.

"Wendy, can you tell me what's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"

He always soothed me like this, no matter how unreasonable I was.

I nearly screamed, "You and Melanie have a child!"

"Today, she went to choose a wedding dress for your anniversary!"

"You even took her to my favorite Japanese restaurant. Do I have to spell it out for you?"

After saying that, I was exhausted.

I squatted down, gathering my knees to my chest, trying to hold back my sobs, but I couldn't stop choking.

He grabbed my hands, desperately trying to explain, "It's not what you think. You have to trust me."

"Wendy, let me explain. She and I are only...”

"What? Are you still trying to lie to me? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why did you deceive me? Why didn't you tell me you're already married?"

I felt a tightness in my throat so intense that I couldn't barely breathe.

Blake's expression changed drastically, his voice hoarse as he said, "Wendy, I had my reasons."

His words felt like blades, cutting my heart piece by piece. The pain was sweeping through my entire body.

"Get out of here. I never want to see you again in my life."

Blake knelt numbly beside me, parted his lips, but ultimately said nothing.

It seemed true that Blake had married Melanie, and they even had a child.

The first time I met Blake was at school.

I accidentally kicked over his paint on my way out to my walk, and we exchanged contact information as a result, but we seldom chatted on WhatsApp.

Unexpectedly, after graduation, I met him again at an art exhibition, and he began to pursue me aggressively.

He sent flowers, gifts, and even painted portraits exclusively for me, making me feel loved for the first time.

The two years we spent together were the happiest days of my life.

I believed in him and in his plans for our future.

Since then, he worked even harder, pushing himself hard.

In order to secure better exhibition spaces, he drank with the sponsors until he developed a bleeding stomach.

His stomach was weak, so I cooked and delivered meals to him every day.

My life gradually filled up with chores and caregiving, but I still enjoyed it.

He needed a quieter place to create, so I earned money to rent a better studio for him.

I believed he loved me and that he would make something of himself.

Eventually, he did make his name as a printer.

His artwork sold for exorbitant prices, and the gifts he gave me became more and more expensive.

That day, looking at the ring in his hand, I wept silently.

"This was specially commissioned from abroad, symbolizing my unique love for you."

Blake proposed to me, and I said yes.

I also brought up the idea of getting our marriage certificate, but he always put it off with the excuse of being busy with work.

"What's there to worry about? For something as important as our marriage, of course, we should pick a good day to register."

This matter kept being postponed, and the right day to register never seemed to come.

And now, I became the other woman.