Part 1The One-Hundredth Time

On every wedding anniversary, my husband, Christopher Kane, brings home a woman he picked up from the streets, claiming it's for me to "train."

On our tenth anniversary, Christopher brought home a cocktail waitress from a cheap club, dressed in a skimpy bunny suit.

"She doesn't have a gown. Give her your wedding dress. And that set of jewelry I gave you last time, give her that too. As for shoes... the ones on your feet look fine."

"Oh, right. She's young and inexperienced. Teach her well, especially about... bedroom matters."

Everyone waited for me to become a joke again. Instead, I fulfilled their expectations by saying I wanted a divorce.

Christopher snorted, looking at me with contempt and mockery.

"Sarah, how many times have you said you want a divorce? I'm sick of hearing it. It's even more annoying than your moans in bed!"

"If you really divorce me, I'll give you a hundred million dollars!"

The crowd roared with laughter again, whispering that I was just playing hard to get, that I didn't know my place.

What they didn't know was that this was the 100th time I said I wanted a divorce.

And it was the only time I truly meant it.

* * *

All eyes were on me. Even the cocktail waitress covered her mouth, giggling along.

"Come on, place your bets! I bet a million she regrets it before she even walks out that door."

"I'm in for three hundred thousand!"

Betting on whether I would divorce Christopher had become a stale tradition at every anniversary party.

Many people hated me for losing money on me, and those who won didn't necessarily like me either.

I shook my head with a light laugh, scolding myself internally for being so spineless. It took ten years to finally decide to leave Christopher.

"I bet she leaves!"

A deep voice came from the crowd. Others tried to dissuade him from throwing his money away. I looked toward the sound but couldn't see who it was.

"Christopher, I'll send the divorce papers to your office. Remember to sign them."

I had threatened divorce hundreds of times, but this was the first time I mentioned papers.

Christopher straightened up, ash falling from the cigarette in his hand.

I ignored him, squatted down, unbuckled my high heels, and placed them at the girl's feet.

Her name was Lily. She was in her early twenties, very pretty.

"These shoes pinch a bit. You'll get used to them after a while."

"As for the dress and jewelry Christopher mentioned, I'll have the housekeeper bring them to you."

"Before you, Christopher brought back nine other girls. If you have any questions, ask them. They live on the third floor. Your room is the last one on the right."

In ten years of marriage, the women Christopher brought home could fill a harem.

Tall, short, curvy, thin, innocent, glamorous, aloof, lively—he had them all.

Rumor had it he wanted to collect a full set of "Twelve Beauties."

But I wasn't blessed enough to be one of them.

I brushed invisible dust off my bare feet, stood up, and walked toward the main door.

Before I could step out, a strong force yanked me back.

"Sarah Vance, if you want to leave, leave clean. Is there a single thing on your body that wasn't bought with my money?"

My bare feet felt like they were stepping on blades of ice. Even my breath trembled.

"You want me to strip?"

Christopher raised an eyebrow, his gaze light as if seeing right through me.

"When your family went bankrupt, didn't your mother strip you naked and shove you into my bed? Leave the same way you came!"

"Or do you regret it? That's fine. Kneel down and put the shoes on for her, and I'll forgive you."

The crowd behind Christopher laughed so hard they doubled over.

Years ago, shortly after Christopher and I started dating, the Vance family went bankrupt. My father jumped off a building and ended up in a vegetative state.

Afraid the Kane family wouldn't help, my mother drugged both Christopher and me. Afterward, she did everything she could to blow the incident up, forcing the Kane family to take responsibility.

That night was the beginning of all my humiliation.

It also completely destroyed the love Christopher and I had shared since we were teenagers.

Christopher was forced to marry me. On our wedding night, he brought a woman home to humiliate me.

He did everything in front of me. I even had to open the condom wrapper and hand it to him.

I spent the next day on my hands and knees, cleaning up the mess.

I lived this servile life for ten years.

Now, I couldn't do it anymore.

"I'll strip."

Before anyone could react, I undid the clasp of my shawl.

It was deep winter. The heating inside was strong, but I was standing by the door. Cold wind poured up my skirt, raising goosebumps on my exposed arms and shoulders.

I reached back and unzipped the dress. The thin fabric slid down.

Shoulders and skin were exposed to the air.

"Oh my god!"

Some timid people covered their eyes.

The men watched with keen interest.

Only Christopher's eyes were dark as ink, his thin lips pressed tight. The only sign of his agitation was the slight tremor in the fingers holding his cigarette.

As the dress fell, I stood almost naked before the crowd.

The cigarette burned Christopher's fingers. He threw it down, ripped off his jacket, and covered me with it.

"Sarah, you must have a death wish!"

"Everyone close your damn eyes! If anyone says a word about what happened today, you won't see the sun tomorrow!"

"Get out! All of you!"

Christopher rarely lost his temper, especially in public.

Those present were old acquaintances who knew when to leave.

The nine other girls Christopher had brought home scurried upstairs. Only Lily remained standing there.

"Christopher, are you satisfied? Can you let me go now?"

I looked up at him stubbornly.

Tears swirled in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

I had cried for Christopher too many times. I didn't want to cry for him anymore.

"Sarah, quit these hard-to-get games. It disgusts me."

Christopher still didn't believe me, warning me not to embarrass the Kane family.

I took a deep breath. "Christopher, I really want a divorce this time."

Christopher looked at me like he'd heard the world's biggest joke. He grabbed the back of my neck and forced me to bend over.

"Do you dare to divorce me? Can you afford your father's daily hospital bills? Can you pay for your mother's shopping sprees?"

"Sarah, your mother would be the first to kneel before me and beg me not to divorce you!"

Christopher's loathing for my mother and me had nowhere left to hide.

He hated my mother for the drugs, and he hated me for my inaction.

"Even if your mother hadn't drugged us, I would have married you. I would have helped you. But you used the methods I despise the most!"

"Sarah, you destroyed our feelings with your own hands!"

No matter how many times I explained, Christopher would never believe me.

Seeing my silence, Christopher frowned deeper.

He dragged me over and forced me to kneel in front of Lily, pressing on my neck to make me put shoes on her.

"Put them on her. You've done this for ten years. You should be an expert by now!"

For ten years, I not only took care of Christopher but also served those nine girls.

Things I should do, things I shouldn't, things forced, things voluntary—I did too many things I despised myself for.

But now, I just wanted it all to end quickly.

So, I obediently put the shoes on the girl again.

Perhaps my obedience bored Christopher.

He angrily dragged me into his room and stripped Lily in front of me.

I had seen this scene many times. Sometimes Christopher even demanded I join in to "teach" them.

Like before, I tore open a condom wrapper and handed it over.

But this time, Christopher pushed it away.

"Not needed this time."

My hand trembled as I pulled it back.

Christopher didn't stop his movements, but he glanced at me—something he rarely did.

I didn't look at him. I couldn't be bothered.

Christopher got angry again. He locked me in the bathroom.

That night, the snowstorm outside was heavy, and the noise inside was loud. I sat there listening all night.

In a daze, I was awakened by an urgent phone ring.

"Is this Miss Vance? Your mother was in a car accident. She's in critical condition. Please come to City Memorial Hospital immediately."

My heart suspended in mid-air.

"Christopher!"

I started pounding on the door, trying to interrupt the sounds outside.

Christopher opened the door wrapped in a bathrobe, his loose collar revealing hickeys. The woman in his arms clung to him.

"What?"

"My mom was in a car accident. Can you take me to the hospital? Please?"

I knelt and begged him, tears streaming down, terrified he wouldn't take me because he was unhappy.

"Sister, do you even draft your lies? It's 3 AM and snowing heavily. Normal people are at home. Did a car crash into your mom's house?"

Lily sneered, pointing at the dark, snowy night outside.

Christopher laughed along, not even lifting his eyelids. "Sarah, you'd lie about this?"

"What? Can't stand the noise anymore?"

Christopher locked the door again.

The louder I shouted, the louder the noise outside became.

Desperate, I picked up a stool and smashed the window, climbing out.

Sharp glass sliced my leg, blood flowing instantly.

Because it was late and snowing, I couldn't get a cab.

I ran forward like a zombie, leaving shocking red trails in the snow.

Beep beep. A black Cayenne stopped beside me.

"Get in."

Inside the dim car, the man in the driver's seat never looked back at me.

I kept thanking him, but he didn't say another word.

As I got out, I heard him say:

"Sarah, you have other choices besides Christopher Kane."

"If you figure it out, find me."

He handed me a gold-stamped business card. I took it with both hands, thanking him profusely.

My mind was entirely on my mother; I put it in my pocket without looking.

I stumbled into the ER. Before I could ask, I saw nurses pushing a gurney covered with a white sheet out of the operating room.

"Where is the family of Susan Vance?"

"The patient is dead, and the daughter still isn't here. Unbelievable."

The nurses' whispers pierced my heart effortlessly.

I rushed over and lifted the white sheet. The face, usually so exquisitely maintained, was covered in cuts. Her body was broken.

Regarding Christopher, I had resented my mother every minute for ten years.

I had even viciously wished the whole family would die. But now that she was truly dead in front of me, I only felt heartache.

With no family left, there was no funeral to plan.

I sat by my father's bedside for a while, talking about Mom, about myself.

I spoke intermittently until dawn. Before leaving, I looked at my father, who hadn't moved in ten years, and spoke with a sob:

"Dad, I'm tired."

My mother was cremated early the next morning. I put her urn in a box and took it home.

I also brought home the divorce agreement I had commissioned.

Walking in, I bumped into Christopher and his Tenth Beauty chatting and laughing at the dining table.

"Sign it."

I slammed the divorce papers on the table, my voice cold.

"So you snuck out last night just to get these papers?"

"Sarah, you really are rebelling!"

I hugged the urn tightly, head down.

"Christopher, let's let each other go."

"I don't love you anymore."

In the past, I would argue with Christopher. When tempers flared, we even got physical.

I would point at his nose and ask if his declarations of love back then were just a joke.

Most of the time, I held onto a sliver of hope, hoping he would forgive me, hoping we could salvage the marriage.

So if he liked wild, I learned to please him in bed.

If he liked pure, I wore his favorite clothes to make him happy.

But as woman after woman moved in, my heart grew silent bit by bit.

Those tricks to please him became my shame, and his outlet to humiliate me.

"What fell out of your pocket, sister...?"

"Adrian Sterling?"

Lily picked up the card I dropped and read the name.

It was Adrian Sterling.

Christopher's lifelong nemesis, the one who had been across the ocean, unseen for years.

The next second, a dark-faced Christopher slapped me.

"You say you don't love me because you found someone else?!"

"Do you know what kind of person Adrian Sterling is?!"

My ears rang. I couldn't stand steady. The urn in my hands fell and shattered.

Watching the dust fly, I stood there, paralyzed.

I instinctively knelt, trying to gather the ashes.

But no matter how I scooped, it was useless.

Lily poured a glass of milk on the floor. The others followed suit, pouring drinks.

The powder turned into a sticky mess.

"Ah!"

In that moment, something snapped. I grabbed a stool like a madwoman and smashed it at Lily.

Christopher couldn't react in time. Lily was on the ground, clutching her head.

"Christopher..."

"It hurts."

Someone called an ambulance. Christopher grabbed my hand, forcing me to watch at the hospital.

"If anything happens to her, you're going down with her!"

That day, I was forced to give blood to Lily. Again and again, until the doctor refused to take more.

Only then did Christopher let me go, saying I deserved it.

For those few days, I hid in my father's ward, never leaving.

"Sister is hiding here! Thanks to your hit, Christopher treats me so well now."

"Is this your dad? Why doesn't he move?"

Lily, now favored, walked and talked arrogantly.

She flicked my father's oxygen tube, asking curiously what it was.

"Don't touch it!"

I pushed her away. She stumbled back, clutching her head.

The next second, she yanked the tube out, playing with it in her hand, smiling.

"Do you think Christopher will blame me for this?"

Then Christopher walked in.

He froze at the scene, looking back and forth between us.

After a long pause, he said:

"Lily is young, she doesn't know better. Your dad was hopeless anyway. Ending it early is a mercy."

"I'll just send your mom more money in the future."

The monitor flatlined. The sound announced my father's death.

I stood there, frozen. Beyond sadness, I felt a sense of relief.

Christopher didn't care about me anymore. He picked up Lily and left.

Collapsed on the floor, I kept apologizing to my dad. But I didn't know who in this world had ever done right by me.

I took out the card and dialed the number.

"Mr. Sterling, pick me up tonight."

Same cremation, one more time.

This time, I left my father's ashes in the columbarium at the funeral home.

When I returned to the Kane house, Christopher wasn't back yet.

The Nine Beauties kept buzzing in my ear that Christopher was angry, that I was finished.

I turned a deaf ear. They relentlessly asked if I was really divorcing.

I didn't answer. I just opened my bedroom door.

"Choose. Everything in here is yours."

At my words, they swarmed in, emptying the room instantly.

Only a few photos of Christopher and me from our youth lay scattered on the floor, ignored by everyone.

I locked myself in the room until nightfall.

Christopher sent the housekeeper to check on me. I only asked her to deliver the divorce papers.

"Divorce again."

"A hundred times. Sarah, aren't you done playing?"

Christopher tore the papers to shreds.

"Starve her! Bring her food when she stops acting up!"

Christopher thought my divorce talk was fake. He thought my saying I didn't love him was fake too.

But love really can run out.

Ten years. I really couldn't love anymore.

Now that I was utterly alone, what couldn't I let go of?

That night, I climbed out the window and got into Adrian Sterling's car.