The Marriage She Turned into War novel Chapter 1

I broke up with my girlfriend, Abigail Bardot, at her lowest point. She clearly despised me, but when she became a CEO with a net worth of millions of dollars three years later, she pursued me, an ordinary office worker.

I became the envy of others, but she ruined our loving and happy relationship three years into our marriage. She began bringing other men home, flaunting her affairs right before my eyes while laughing and flirting with them as if I were invisible.

I became the fool she cheated on, but I never got angry. All I wanted was for her to be happy.

However, Abigail got angry instead. Her nails dug deep into my skin as she yelled, "Are you even a man? Why won't you get mad?"

…

I stared at the ceiling blankly as I listened to their moans through the walls.

The medical report in my hands became crumpled as I clutched onto it tightly.

I was dying. I'd been diagnosed with a rare disease, so rare that it was even named after me—Gebb's disease.

The doctors had offered me a spot in an overseas research trial. It was a slim hope that might buy me a few more years, though I'd be nothing more than their lab rat.

But I'd already given up on treatments. My arms were marked with countless scars from needles. Even in the heat of summer, I had to wear long sleeves to hide them.

I wanted a divorce. I wanted to leave this city and spend whatever days I had left seeing the world.

Just then, my phone rang.

"Hey, Samuel…"

Abigail's sultry voice came through the phone. She was just in the next room, yet she couldn't even bother to call out to me in person.

"Yes," I replied.

I put away the medical report and then went to knock on the door of the next room.

A handsome and muscular man opened the door. He was Ted Simmons, a new trainer at the gym nearby.

He hadn't been to work for a week now, since becoming Abigail's new pet. Abigail had given him a luxurious car worth more than he could have made in his lifetime as a trainer.

At that moment, sweat glistened on his muscular body. There were lipstick marks and traces of her kisses on his neck.

He took a drag on his cigarette and blew a puff of smoke at me.

I instinctively held my breath and swallowed down a wave of nausea.

He threw me a disdainful and mocking glance as he said, "I'm going to take a shower. Remember to cook later. She wants to eat at home today."

I ignored him and entered the room.

The bed was a mess. Abigail sat casually on the armchair beside it, her silk robe slipping off one shoulder as she twirled a cigarette between her fingers.

"Take a seat," she said flatly.

A wave of smoke hit me once I approached.

I gulped hard in disgust as I sat down. I'd always hated the smell of cigarettes.

As a child in the orphanage, I was constantly bullied. The older kids, especially those who enjoyed picking on timid kids like me, would press burning cigarette butts into my palms before forcing me to swallow the ashes and filters. I could still remember the bitter, foul taste of them.

Ever since then, the mere smell of smoke would make me nauseous. But even after three years of marriage, Abigail never noticed this. Or maybe she simply didn't care.

Abigail glanced at me and tapped the bottle of red wine on the table.

"Make lamb chops with red wine tonight. It's Ted's favorite dish."

"Okay." I nodded blankly.

The smell of lamb also turned my stomach, but my preferences had long since ceased to matter. Besides, there wasn't any point in saying anything now. After all, it would all be over soon.