Everyone in the military compound knew Commander Bryson Fenwick for his strict discipline and unbending fairness.

During their three years of marriage, his wife, Vivienne Collier, had never once benefited from his position.

On their first wedding anniversary, she prepared a lavish dinner and a carefully chosen gift. She waited until the dishes went cold, only to be met with his reprimand. "Feasting like this is against army discipline. You’ve violated regulations."

In the second year of their marriage, Vivienne nearly died from a post-miscarriage hemorrhage. The doctor asked for a family member to stay and look after her. But Bryson never came—he stayed at the command headquarters, claiming his work couldn’t wait.

In the third year of their marriage, her father suddenly fell critically ill and needed to be transferred to a superior hospital. She went to the headquarters office to beg for a vehicle. Bryson frowned and said, "The use of military vehicles requires an early application. There's no exception. Not even for my family."

Out of options, Vivienne could only borrow a tricycle from her neighbor and pedaled all day and night. By the time she reached the hospital, it was too late.

Her father was pronounced dead after a night of failed resuscitation.

When she returned home with his body, Bryson’s chauffeur approached her.

"Mrs. Fenwick, the vehicle request has been approved. Where shall I drive you?"

Vivienne looked at the green jeep, tears streaming down her face. Then, she started laughing through her sobs.

Driven by anger and sadness, she darted into the regional command headquarters like a crazy woman. At the sight of her, Bryson scowled, "Vivi, how many times do I have to tell you? Outsiders are denied entry to the command. I already sent the driver to pick you up—why are you making a scene?"

Even now, he thought she was just throwing a tantrum!

Before Vivienne could make a retort, a soldier in a military uniform hastened into the room and said panickily, "Colonel, bad news. Nikki fainted from low blood sugar. Please go have a look."

For the first time, a trace of softness appeared in Bryson's aloof face. He ran out of the room without putting on his jacket.

Vivienne followed him to the room beside the headquarters. Regardless of the looks on other people's faces, Bryson picked up the unconscious Nikki and got into the commander's exclusive jeep hurriedly.

The engine roared, leaving dust and silence behind.

Vivienne stood frozen, her blood turning to ice, pain spreading through every inch of her body.

She should've known better.

When her father was dying, she had to write formal requests for a vehicle. Yet for Nikki’s low blood sugar, the mighty Commander Fenwick personally drove her to the hospital.

Just and stern? Ridiculous. He simply didn't care about her.

Dragging her heavy feet home, Vivienne handled her father’s funeral alone.

Rumors spread quickly in the compound.

Someone said that to help Nikki recover, Bryson pulled strings to buy tonics for her from Illinois.

Others whispered that he stayed by her bedside all night, even massaging her back.

Vivienne felt as though a hole had been gouged out of her heart, the wind cutting through it mercilessly.

Since their wedding day, she had always known he didn't love her.

That year, Bryson had returned from a classified mission that nearly cost him his life.

Upon his recovery, his superior gave him an order to marry as soon as possible.

Once word got out, many girls got excited. Bryson was a rising star in the military area, after all, not to mention his remarkable looks and promising future.

Vivienne was no exception. Though she had already received an admission letter from a university overseas, one glance at Bryson from afar was enough for her to fall hopelessly in love.

She signed up for the blind date, hoping to marry him one day.

The day they met, however, Bryson hardly spared her a look. He lifted his hand and pointed at her. Just like that, she became his fiancée.

Their wedding was sensational, but when Bryson entered their new home, his presence chilled the air.

His chiseled face showed no emotion, and even on their wedding night, he treated it like a duty to be fulfilled.

"Vivi, I’m not a man of sweet words. Since the organization chose you as my wife, I’ll take responsibility for you. But don’t ask for more than that."

And with that, their relationship was defined.

Still, Vivienne had believed that with sincerity and time, even ice would melt.

Day after day, she tried to be a good wife, being considerate in everything. However, Bryson remained nonchalant like an iceberg.

Filled with despair, Vivienne was about to give up when Nikki came along.

That was the first time Vivienne had seen Bryson smile.

Nikki complained that she didn't have a job. Without hesitation, Bryson assigned Vivienne's job to her.

When Nikki said the military uniform was too uncomfortable, Bryson allowed her to wear plain clothes.

When Nikki disliked the local food, he ordered the kitchen to prepare her hometown dishes every day.

More than once, Vivienne pointed out that what he did was wrong. But Bryson didn't take her words seriously, claiming that Nikki was the orphan of a martyr and was entitled to special care.

Now, Vivienne finally understood that it wasn't that Bryson was righteous. He could be biased for Nikki. For her only.

Then, what was the point of Vivienne's stay?

She made two decisions.

First, she called her aunt overseas to say she wanted to emigrate.

Her aunt, separated from family for decades, agreed without hesitation.

"Vivi, don't worry about anything. I'll take care of the procedures."

Second, Vivienne called the army to file for a divorce.

"Hello, this is Vivienne Collier. I want to file for a divorce from Bryson Fenwick."

The person on the other end hesitated. "Vivienne, wasn’t it you who insisted on marrying him? Why the sudden change of heart?"

Vivienne took a deep breath and replied, "I’ve applied for emigration. Once approved, I’ll be considered a foreign resident—it’s no longer appropriate for me to be his wife."

The clerk was alerted. "Understood. Vivienne, your divorce request will be reported to higher authorities. Expect a response in a month."

When the call ended, Vivienne’s eyes fell on the yellowed wedding photo on the wall. A wave of sorrow washed over her.

In the photo, Bryson looked as handsome as ever but displayed no sign of joy.

She was done trying to warm an iceberg.

From now on, her life would no longer revolve around Bryson Fenwick.

Three days later, Bryson finally came home.

Unlike before, Vivienne didn't go to him warmly. Seated at the table, she read as if not seeing him.

Red-faced, Bryson walked to her with a tad of embarrassment.

This was the first time he had approached her. If it were before, she would've been ecstatic. But now, it only made her feel oppressed.

"Vivi, I've just heard that your father passed away. It's too sudden. I'm sorry. This kind of thing happens. Let's focus on the future. We still have a life to live."

He made her father's death sound so insignificant.

It broke her heart. Vivienne snapped the book shut and looked at him coldly. "When I wanted to borrow a military vehicle, you told me to make an application first. Why didn't Nikki have to?"

Bryson opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it.

Several seconds later, he explained, "Nik's situation was an emergency. I could only...make an exception. Besides, as the child of a martyr, she has a privilege—"

This again. Vivienne found it ridiculous.

There were other children of martyrs in the military quarters. Why was Nikki so special?

"Enough!" Vivienne interrupted him. "In the future, do whatever you want with Nikki. It's not my concern."

Bryson was taken aback. Only then did he realize that there was something different about Vivienne today. She was no longer the timid little woman. There was even a cool aura around her.

Bryson's tone softened when he spoke again. "Vivi, I know what I'm doing. Don't worry. Nothing is going on between Nikki and me."

Vivienne snorted. She didn't buy it.

The night fell. Bryson got into bed quickly after freshening up and held Vivienne with his masculine arm. His big hand slid across her body.

She knew he wanted it.

These years, Bryson had been busy with work and had scarcely made love to her. The only intimate nights they had spent together, she had to beg for them. Over time, she found it dull, and there had been no intimacy between them since then.

Bryson was especially enthusiastic tonight. This was what Vivienne had longed for. At this moment, however, the touch of his body didn't arouse her. Instead, it disgusted her.

Subconsciously, she reached out to push him away. Against her expectations, he grabbed her hand, lowered his head, and, breathing heavily, whispered in her ear, "Vivi, give it to me."

Just then, thunder rumbled outside. Glaring lightning lit the room, making it as bright as in the daytime. In the blink of an eye, it poured. The rain splattered on the roof. The run-down house leaked, and the water flowed down the wall.

Bryson got dressed quickly and said hastily to Vivienne, "It's raining too heavily. I need to go on inspection rounds. Stay home. Don't go outside. I'll come back as soon as possible."

She nodded silently and watched him walk into the downpour and disappear.

It was raining more heavily, the thunder clapping, the lightning cracking, the gale whistling, threatening to turn the house upside down any minute. Vivienne sat on the bed fidgetily, her heart pounding.

It was like a drizzle inside. Vivienne had reminded Bryson repeatedly to do something about the leaking, but he never took it seriously. More leaks were showing. With pots and basins all used to get water, Vivienne was short of tools.

What was worse, the beam creaked.

Vivienne had a bad feeling. Her heart tightened into a knot. She grabbed her ID and held it in her arms. It was too important to get wet.

Before she could run out of the room, the beam broke, and the ceiling fell on her.

A sharp pain ran throughout her body. Her legs were buried in the ruins.

"Help..." she called out feebly. But her voice was drowned in the rainstorm.

Never had she been so eager to see Bryson. She couldn't die like this.

Before her consciousness failed, a familiar voice came from the rain.

"Vivi, I'm back."

It was Bryson. A team of soldiers had arrived with him.

"Bryce, help me... I can't feel my legs..."

Bryson was about to order the soldiers to rescue her when a soldier rushed over.

"Colonel, the north has been flooded. Miss Gower is still there! We're short of hands over there. A reinforcement is needed urgently."

Bryson paused and turned back to Vivienne, who was buried in the ruins with a pasty face. Then, he turned around and ordered, "All of you, go to the north with me at once!"

He took all of the soldiers with him. Vivienne was left all alone.

Blood seemed to have halted inside her. Her heart ached as if being torn to pieces.

The fact, however cruel it was, had been laid before her plainly—Nikki was much more important to him than she was.

The rain washed the earth mercilessly. The cold and the pain numbed her awareness until she fell into an utter darkness.

As soon as Vivienne opened her eyes, a stench of disinfectant got into her nostrils. She was lying feebly on a bed in the military infirmary, her legs elevated and bandaged.

A nurse came and said, "Miss, luckily, you were brought here in time. If it had been delayed a few more minutes, you'd have lost this leg of yours."

The nurse told her that the villagers nearby found her and took her to the hospital.

Out of the blue, the door was flung open. Bryson hastened in with cold, humid air, his uniform drenched and covered in dirt, his hair disheveled, stuck to his forehead. Vivienne had never seen him like this before.

He strode to the bed. At the sight of her pale face and shut eyes, his Adam's apple bobbed. With a trace of nearly undetectable nervousness, he asked, "Vivi, how are you...feeling? Is it serious?"

Vivienne's long eyelashes fluttered, but she didn't open her eyes. She just slowly turned her head away from him.

Bryson's hand paused in midair. He took a deep breath. Fatigue was plain in his deep voice when he said, "The rain was too heavy last night. The situation was more urgent in the north. There was a flood. Tens of households were trapped. Vivi, as a military commander, I must think of the big picture. I can't prioritize my family."

"Really?" Vivienne sneered. When she looked back at him, there was nothing but coldness in her eyes. "Colonel Fenwick, who is your family? You can't prioritize me, but you have no problem prioritizing Nikki. You abandoned me, your wife, who was buried in ruins, who could've died any minute, and you went to save Nikki's life. By 'big picture,' you mean her, don't you?"

Bryson's expression changed slightly. With knitted brows, he remarked, "Vivi, why can't you understand me? The whole military area is my responsibility. Besides, you're out of danger, right?"

Out of danger?

Thanks to the villagers, she was lying on a bed, not in a casket.

An intangible hand seemed to have grasped her heart. It hurt, and she couldn't breathe.

With all her might, she said, "Bryson, I want a divorce."

Just then, a nurse hurried over and said panickily, "Colonel Fenwick, something bad happened. Miss Gower is afraid of needles. She kept calling your name before fainting during the IV drip. Will you go and check on her?"

Worry was written all over Bryson's face.

Then, he seemed to remember Vivienne's existence and said to her, "Vivi, what did you just say? I need to check on Nik first. Talk with you later."

Before Vivienne could say anything, he ran out of the ward.

Seeing how concerned her husband was about another woman, Vivienne felt like she was the biggest joke.

Silence fell in the ward. The gossiping voices of the nurses outside came clearly.

"Did you notice? Colonel Fenwick is so good to Miss Gower. He takes care of her personally and feels the temperature of the water before feeding her."

"I'll say. Looks are always an advantage. They say she studied abroad. Certainly, we can't compare with her."

"Shh. Lower your voice. The patient in this ward is Colonel Fenwick's wife."

"So what? Don't you see how much Colonel Fenwick cares about Miss Gower?"

Each remark stung Vivienne's wounded heart. It hurt so much she couldn't feel the pain anymore. Eaten bit by bit, her heart eventually became hollow. Only a void and desolation remained.

In the next few days, Bryson stayed with Vivienne. He had specially asked for leave to look after her. It was a first.

However, his mind was somewhere else. Every time footsteps echoed in the hallway, he looked up. He left for Nikki, should anything happen to her, especially when the nurse came to get him.

Vivienne never said anything. Each time, she silently watched him leave and come back with a guilty expression. No emotion stirred inside her. It felt like watching a mime as an outsider.

The day Vivienne was discharged from the hospital, Bryson took her home.

"Vivi, the army assigned a new apartment to me. It's of a strong structure. Nothing like this will happen again."

It was a detached bungalow. Nothing fancy, but bright and neat. Looking at the white walls, the tiled floor, and the brand-new bed and closet, Vivienne was filled with mixed feelings. How she had wished to have a safe and comfortable home. Then, she wouldn't be afraid of rainy days or worried about the house falling. Now, it was a dream come true, yet her heart was too tattered to feel any joy.

"Vivi, look. This is our new home. I've tidied it," Bryson said excitedly in a brisk tone as he showed Vivienne around. The place had been cleaned. There was a bouquet in the living room.

Out of the blue, knocks came from the door.

Bryson trotted to open it. Outside, Nikki stood with a sweet smile, carrying her luggage.

"Colonel Fenwick, I'm sorry to trouble you again," she said in a soft voice.

"Don't mention it. You're welcome." He turned slightly to make way for her. Then, as if it had just struck him, he said to Vivienne, "Nik's old place was horrible. It's bad for her recovery. Since our house is spacious, I asked her to move in with us. We can take care of each other."

A sting ran through Vivienne's heart. No wonder he had cleaned the place so thoroughly. No wonder he had given her a tour of the house so excitedly.

It was never about her. Everything he did, he did it for Nikki.

Nikki looked past Bryson and at Vivienne with faint complacency.

"Mrs. Fenwick, I didn't wanna move, but Colonel Fenwick insisted. I couldn't refuse."

Bryson was dictatorial. Once he decided, no one could change his mind.

Arguing was pointless. Vivienne was leaving, anyway.

Without a word, she just forced a thin smile.

Nikki put down her suitcase and suggested with a smile like the mistress of the house, "Moving is a joyful event. We should cook and celebrate."

She volunteered to cook. Bryson rolled up his sleeves to help her in the kitchen.

Soon, the clinking of utensils and laughter came from the kitchen.

Nikki said in a coquettish voice, "Colonel Fenwick, hand me that, please. I think the temperature is too high. Will you check it out?" Bryson agreed in a low voice. He had never spoken to Vivienne so softly and patiently.

They worked together as a perfect team with incredible harmony. It was like they were husband and wife, and Vivienne was the outsider.

When the dishes were served, Nikki put a bowl of soup before Vivienne and said with a smile, "Vivienne, you haven't fully recovered. Soup is good for you. I made it especially for you."

Vivienne looked. There was coriander in it.

Severely allergic to it, she never ate it. There was this one time when she had it accidentally. She almost had a shock.

"Thanks, but I can't have it." She gently pushed the bowl of soup away.

The smile on Nikki's face froze. Her eyes reddened immediately. She turned to Bryson and said sadly, "Bryce, does Vivienne hate me? I know it's inappropriate for me to move in with you. If Vivienne is upset about it, I'll leave right away..." She pretended to stand up.

"Sit." Sullenly, Bryson said to Vivienne, his tone allowing no objection, "Nik means well. The soup is specially for you. Have it."

Vivienne looked him in the eye. "There's coriander. It'll cause my allergy. I may die from it. Don't you remember?"

"It's just a little coriander. How serious can it be? Don't make a fuss about it," Bryson argued with a frown, thinking she was being unreasonable. "Finish it."

Pent-up sadness, anger, and despair overwhelmed Vivienne. All of her emotions erupted like a volcano. She jerked up from her chair and swept the bowl of soup off the table.

The bowl broke, and the soup spilled everywhere.

"I said no!"

Meanwhile, Nikki screamed as a fragment of the bowl scraped her forearm and left a disturbing streak of blood.

"Nik, is it serious?" Bryson hurried to support the pitiable-looking Nikki and examined her wound carefully as if holding the most valuable treasure in the world. He had once been so gentle to Vivienne, but it was a long time ago.

Covering her arm with her other hand, Nikki said in a sad voice, her eyes red, "It's nothing serious. My wound doesn't matter as long as Vivienne isn't mad at me... I just wanted to cook a meal for everyone..."

"Vivienne! Look at yourself! You're acting like a shrew! Apologize to Nik!" Bryson roared. His voice was so loud the ceiling seemed to shake. Rage and disappointment were plain in his eyes.

The pain returned to Vivienne's chest, as if a blade were stabbing her over and over again.

With reddening eyes, she declared with a bitter smile, "Not gonna happen!"

"You're unbelievable!"

Bryson glanced at her as if looking at disgusting filth. Then, he swiftly wrapped Nikki with his jacket and walked out with his arm around her shoulders.

In the big house, Vivienne was left alone with a mess on the floor and the suffocating desolation.

She stood there for a long time before crouching and picking up the sharp fragments of the bowl. Her finger was cut and bled, but she couldn't feel the pain anymore.

In the next few days, neither Bryson nor Nikki came back.

This gave Vivienne an opportunity to pack her things.

She pulled out the drawer, where she kept her wedding photo. It was the only photo of her and Bryson.

The photo had yellowed. Contrary to her bright smile, Bryson had a stern expression and didn't look happy at all.

She had always thought this was who he was. It turned out she couldn't be more wrong.

This man married a woman he didn't love. How could he smile?

She picked up a pair of scissors and cut the photo. Her heart ached as the sharp blade slit Bryson's handsome face until it became shreds.

It was a ceremony of removing him bit by bit from her heart, leaving no trace behind.

All her luggage was just a pack of clothes. Bryson was a good soldier and a man of principle. He hated squandering. The money he gave her was only enough to cover daily expenses. The three years she had spent with him were never easy.

She wouldn't make the same mistake again.

No sooner had Vivienne finished packing than urgent footsteps came from outside the door. Then, Bryson's guard, Alan, barged in and said in a fluster, "Mrs. Fenwick, bad news! Colonel Fenwick had an accident!"

Vivienne's heart tightened into a knot. She stood up abruptly and asked, "What accident?"

"He fell off the cliff."

Without delay, Vivienne went to the hospital with Alan.

The hallway was packed. People came and went. Two patients on stretchers were being wheeled into the operating room. It turned out Nikki was with Bryson when the accident happened. She fell off the cliff, too.

Alan said hesitantly, "Colonel Fenwick was climbing a mountain with Nikki..."

Vivienne felt a hand grip her heart, wrenching and twisting it. No wonder Bryson didn't come home. He had been with Nikki these days. They even went hiking together.

The doctor handed her the informed consent and said, "Are you Colonel Fenwick's wife? Please sign here. He fell off the cliff when trying to save Nikki's life. His injury is severe. He isn't out of danger yet. We'll do what we can."

Vivienne couldn't believe her ears. Her husband was the regional command headquarters. But he left his position for another woman and even almost died for her. How ironic! In this marriage, her existence was like a joke.

Bryson's heart of ice only melted for Nikki.

Vivienne waited outside the operating room like a zombie. The bright red light glared in her eyes.

Scenes from the winter of their wedding rushed back into her head. Bryson took her to visit veterans. Their vehicle broke down on the way. In the end, he left with all the supplies and abandoned her in the snow.

"Vivi, my task can't wait. Stay here. I'll come back as soon as my job is done."

The temperature was below zero. Vivienne waited in the cold for one day and one night. She was almost frozen. He didn't come back even after the patrolling soldiers found her.

Afterward, when she confronted him, he argued, "I'm the regional command headquarters. I'm busy. How can I put my job aside because of you? Besides, nothing happened to you, right?"

A sneer crept onto her lips when she thought of this. She should've known better. She never mattered to Bryson.

The doors to the operating room opened. Nikki and Bryson were wheeled out abreast, their eyes closed. They looked perfect together. Standing there, Vivienne felt like an outsider.

The doctor cleared his throat to break the awkward silence. "Vivienne, Colonel Fenwick is out of danger now, but he needs good care. You're his guardian. Naturally, the job falls on you."

Vivienne nodded silently.

Despite everything, she and Bryson were husband and wife, after all. This would be the last time she took care of him as his wife before her departure. Then, she could end their marriage with no regrets.

Bryson was taken to a VIP ward. Nikki was in an ordinary one. Vivienne walked into the ward under other people's pity watch. Whispers came from behind her.

"Vivienne is too tolerant. Colonel Fenwick doesn't cherish her at all, but she is still looking after him without complaint."

"I couldn't do that. If I were her, I'd have divorced him a long time ago. The more she tolerates him, the more he takes her for granted."

"Her title of Mrs. Fenwick is just nominal. Everybody knows Colonel Fenwick loves someone else."

Vivienne ignored their remarks. To her, Bryson was just a stranger now.

In a few days, she'd leave this heartbreaking place forever.

Vivienne stayed by Bryson's side in the hospital without resting. After three days and three nights, he finally opened his eyes again.

She was about to press the bell to call the doctor when he grabbed her wrist. Worry was written all over his pale face. "Where's Nik? How's she? Was she rescued?"

His grip was too tight. It hurt. Vivienne felt like there was a lump in her chest. She couldn't breathe. Silently, she looked at him until he struggled to get out of bed.

"She's out of danger. Her injury isn't as serious as yours. She's in an ordinary ward."

The spreading blood under his bandage alarmed her. The disturbing red sent her heart trembling.

Hearing her words, Bryson was relieved a little. As if having just realized her existence, he explained awkwardly, "After leaving our house the other day, Nik wanted to sketch from nature. I went with her out of worry. Unexpectedly, a landslide happened." He kept his head bowed to avoid eye contact with her. "She's like a younger sister to me."

"I know," Vivienne responded in a calm tone, as if the matter had nothing to do with her.

Bryson frowned slightly. He'd assumed Vivienne would fight with him and make a scene. The woman before him, however, seemed to have turned into a different person. Her meekness even disappointed him a little.

Out of the blue, a doctor's shout came from the hallway, "Nikki from Bed 23 is having a renal hemorrhage! Rescue her immediately!"

Bryson's face colored instantly, and he darted out of the ward at once.

"Nik! How are you?" His self-esteem was put aside. He ran to Nikki's bed like a reckless teenager.

The doctor hurried to stop him. "Colonel Fenwick, please rest assured. We'll do our best."

"I don't care what you do!" Bryson thundered. "If she dies, I'll hold all of you responsible!"

The medical staff exchanged glances. Bryson was known as a man of his word. He always meant business. They could only promise to do their job.

Watching from a distance, Vivienne sneered. For the woman he cared about, his so-called discipline no longer existed. He was also using his power to get what he wanted.

During the surgery, the doctor hastened out of the operating room and said, "Colonel Fenwick, the bleeding has been stopped. The thing is, Nikki's kidney has failed completely. To fully recover, she needs a kidney transplant."

Bryson staggered but regained his balance quickly. "Then, do it! Treat her at any cost!"

On the same day, a blood test was carried out in the military area. Vivienne also participated.

When the results came out, only she was a match.

"Vivi, this is a trial moment for you," Bryson declared in a dictatorial tone. Her willingness had never occurred to him.

"I won't donate my kidney," she replied through gritted teeth. "Every part of my body is from my parents. I won't donate anything to an outsider."

Bryson's eyes dripped with coldness, but he said nothing.

The next day, Vivienne visited her father's cemetery. She didn't know when she'd come back again. She wanted to bid her farewell.

However, the scene before her eyes stunned her. Her father's tomb was dug. It had become a mess. There were soldiers guarding it in every direction.

When she demanded an explanation, they drove her away. "This graveyard has been expropriated. No entry!"

Nonetheless, only her father's tomb was surrounded. Vivienne realized almost instantly that this was Bryson's idea.

Driven by rage, she rushed to the headquarters like crazy.

"Bryson! That's my father's tomb! Why can't you let him rest in peace?" she shouted hysterically, almost fainting from crying.

Bryson enjoyed his beverage leisurely, as if he had expected this.

"Vivi, I told you this was a trial for you. Either you donate your kidney to Nikki or I level your father's grave. It's your choice."

The heart-wrenching pain almost gave Vivienne cramps.

Her biggest regret in her life was marrying this man.

Lying on the operating table, Vivienne felt nothing but numbness. This marriage left a hole in her heart.

The surgery seemed to last forever. When it was finally over, Vivienne was wheeled out of the operating room, exhausted.

Bryson went over, held her hand, and said earnestly, "Thank you, Vivi. I'll take good care of you."

Vivienne withdrew her hand with her remaining strength. The fake affectionate expression on Bryson's face made her nauseated.

Just then, Nikki was also wheeled out of the room. Bryson took his hands back instantly and trotted over to her. Concern was plain in his voice when he said, "Hurry! Take Nikki to a VIP ward."

VIP wards were for military officials only. However, Bryson arranged one for Nikki with his power.

When it came to Nikki, the word "righteous" meant nothing to him.

Vivienne closed her eyes with a bitter smile when a nurse wheeled her toward an ordinary ward.

In the next few days, Bryson never showed up.

When Vivienne felt better, she dealt with the discharge formalities and went home alone.

The minute she got home, her phone rang.

"Vivienne, we took your divorce application seriously and have approved it. The divorce certificates will be sent to you and Bryson soon."

Vivienne was gratified. From today on, she'd have nothing to do with Bryson.

Her aunt had completed the emigration procedure for her. She'd go abroad as soon as the domestic affairs were finished.

After several days of preparation, all the materials needed were finally ready. When Vivienne got home with brisk steps, Bryson was standing in the living room.

"Vivi, how could you leave the hospital alone?" he remarked in feigned concern. "You've just undergone an operation. You're too weak to move about."

Vivienne listened nonchalantly.

Holding the envelope in her hand, she walked calmly toward her bedroom.

Somehow, Bryson sensed something was wrong. He stopped her and asked, "What's that?"

"Some private materials." Vivienne hid the envelope behind her back.

Bryson looked at her with suspicion. Just then, Nikki ran out of her bedroom and said, "Colonel Fenwick, my pearl necklace is gone. My father left it for me."

Bryson frowned. "Outrageous! How dare they break into my house! Wait here. I'll have some people investigate it."

Nikki continued hesitantly, "But why is the necklace the only thing missing? The other valuable things in this house weren't touched."

Bryson got her point.

He turned to Vivienne and demanded sternly, "I've always thought you're honest. How could you do this? Making you donate a kidney to Nik was my idea. Take it out on me if you're angry. Leave her out of it. Return the necklace to her. Then, the whole thing will be forgotten."

Vivienne looked at him in disbelief, feeling extremely humiliated.

Just because he didn't love her didn't mean he could insult her like this.

"Is that what you think of me? Why are you pointing your finger at me?"

"Only you were home these days. Who else could it be?"

Nikki went to her timidly with tearful eyes. "Vivienne, I know you hate me. But you saved my life. I'm indebted to you. If you like the necklace so much, you can keep it..."

"That's inappropriate." Bryson looked at Nikki affectionately. "Your father left it for you. No one else can have it."

His eyes darkened with coldness when he turned back to Vivienne. "Give me the necklace. It's an order. If you defy me, you'll be punished according to military discipline."

Looking at the man and woman before her eyes, Vivienne felt a stab in her heart.

Suddenly, she laughed. Then, tears streamed down her cheeks.

"I said I didn't take it!"

Without hesitation, Bryson summoned two guards. "Vivienne violated the military discipline. Take her to the training field to run. She can't come back until she finishes 100 loops. No breaks."

Inside, Nikki was still crying. Bryson comforted her, "Don't be sad. I'll take you to the department store to buy a new one later. It may not be as meaningful as the one your father left for you, but it's a token of my apology."

In the training field, it was raining heavily.

The two guards felt baffled. "Mrs. Fenwick, we must follow orders. If you don't run, we'll be punished."

Vivienne clenched her teeth and ran with difficulty in the heavy rain. Her clothes were soon soaking wet. Fits of pain came from the wound in her abdomen. Covering her belly, she ran one loop after another. Eventually, exhausted, she fainted and fell into the mud.

When she woke up, she was in the hospital. Her wound had been redressed.

Some clerks brought her a document. "Vivienne, this is your divorce certificate. Please keep it properly."

It was just a piece of paper. When she took it over, Vivienne remembered how excited and happy she had been when she received her marriage certificate.

Years had passed. So many things had changed. The romance was gone, and their marriage had come to an end.

The nurses' whispers came from outside the door.

"It's said that to make Nikki happy, Colonel Fenwick chartered all of the jewelry counters of the department store."

"It's true. He bought everything she liked. My! My! She's spoiled."

"I guess there'll be a new Mrs. Fenwick soon."

Vivienne grasped her divorce certificate calmly.

They were right. It was time to give away the title of Mrs. Fenwick.

After she was discharged from the hospital, Vivienne packed her things and got on a train bound for the airport.

The scenery flashed back as the train sped forward.

Watching the landscape quietly, she thought, "It's a big world. We may never see each other again. So long, Bryson."