Part 1When Dusk Fades, No Path to Cross

My wife’s male assistant deliberately ruined a painting I’d spent two years creating. Infuriated, I punished him by making him my manservant for three days, tasked with cleaning my art studio.

At first, Eleanor Brooks said nothing, acting as if nothing had happened. But three months later, Eleanor’s company filed for bankruptcy, and she was imprisoned. To repay millions in debt, I worked three jobs a day, toiling relentlessly. For three long years, I lived on the run from creditors, once cornered in an alley and humiliated. For a mere hundred dollars, I even tested haunted houses overnight.

Then, while clearing tables, I overheard Eleanor, who should have been in prison, throwing a lavish birthday party for her male assistant.

A friend asked, “Eleanor, you bought Aiden a million-dollar watch, and your ‘good’ husband is testing haunted houses for a hundred bucks. Can you really be so heartless?”

Eleanor scoffed, exhaling a plume of smoke. “He deserved it, for forcing Aiden to be a manservant back then. These three years are his punishment.”

“Once these three years are over, I’ll pretend to make a comeback. He’ll still be my good husband.”

My body swayed in the cold wind, like a stunned puppet. So, these three years of living hell, this was all a punishment orchestrated by you. If that’s the case, then I will return it to you, twofold.

* * *

I felt as if I’d plunged into an ice-cold abyss, and from within, I heard the conversation between Eleanor and her friend, Grace Sloane.

“Eleanor, he’s still your husband, after all. Before you got married, he was a spoiled young man, living a life of luxury. Aren’t you being a bit too cruel to him?”

“The last time I saw Arthur Blackwood, he looked so haggard, so thin. He must be at his breaking point.”

Eleanor spoke calmly. “It was agreed for three full years. Not a day less.”

“Anyway, it’s only another month until three years are up. He’s lasted this long; a couple more days won’t make a difference.”

Grace hesitated, clearly wanting to say more. “But he came to me recently, just asking to borrow a few hundred dollars.”

“The once privileged Mr. Blackwood, I’d never seen him so desperate.”

Eleanor snorted. “You didn’t lend it to him, did you?”

“Of course not! You said anyone who lent him money would be considered to have cut ties with you. How would I dare?”

Through a cloud of smoke, Eleanor smiled coldly. “Good to know you’re sensible.”

“Arthur Blackwood’s temperament, so demanding and arrogant. Aiden accidentally stained his painting, and Arthur heartlessly punished him by making him a manservant for three days. That kind of overbearing attitude needed to be fixed. See, this three-year punishment has clearly worked, hasn’t it?” Eleanor’s tone was filled with pride and satisfaction, as if her punishment had reformed me, making me a new man.

Grace sighed, swallowing the rest of her unspoken words. She had actually concealed a few things. That day, I had knelt. I had even unbuttoned my shirt.

“Just five hundred dollars, please.”

“Eleanor got sick in prison and needs medical expenses. I’m still short five hundred dollars.”

They exchanged glances, then burst into laughter. “Is this still the former Mr. Blackwood?” “You were so proud back then, wouldn’t wear shoes under a thousand. Now you’re selling yourself for five hundred dollars.”

I could only listen in humiliation, my face devoid of any expression. What expression could I even have? All my pride, my self-respect, had been trampled into worthlessness by reality.

“If you’re willing to add more money,” I choked out. “Whatever pose you want me to strike, I will.”

Their laughter grew even louder. Finally, the woman who had been silent all this time, sitting on the sofa, sighed and spoke. “You should leave.”

“Even if you bowed a hundred times today, we wouldn’t help you.”

Because Eleanor had already given strict instructions. A punishment was a punishment. For three full years, they were not to show any pity or offer me any convenience. Only then could they truly get revenge for Aiden, her assistant.

How did I manage to scrape together those five hundred dollars later? I went to the hospital and sold my blood. I took the five hundred dollars to the prison, but was told Eleanor had been released on medical parole. That money, after much effort, was entrusted to Eleanor’s friend. I was so anxious at the time, I almost knelt. “Please, you must get this money to Eleanor. She mustn’t have any more trouble.”

But at that very moment, Eleanor was with her assistant, Aiden, checking in at Disneyland. She treated the five hundred dollars like a receipt, tossing it to a staff member. “Dirty money from an unknown source, how unlucky.” Just like my sincerity, it was trampled upon so carelessly.