Before the procedure, I called Lydia's number.
Half hoping Lambert would pick up. Half hoping he wouldn't.
A long stretch of ringing, then the call cut off. Lydia sent a video instead.
The man who had always been precious about his hands, who never set foot in a kitchen, was in hers, carefully making her breakfast.
The two of them bickered over how many minutes to steam the soup dumplings.
Then the argument dissolved into a kiss.
"Mm… Lambert! Kissing me won't shut me up. Maybe try putting that energy below the waist next time!"
A short clip. I watched it three times.
Then I turned off my phone.
When I got home after the procedure, the shower of flower petals at the door startled me.
"Ellie, happy second anniversary!"
Lambert slid his arm gently around my waist and produced a gift he'd clearly put thought into.
"Marrying you is the happiest thing that's ever happened to me. See if you like it?"
My gaze landed on his neck.
A flicker of unease crossed his face, and he reached up to tug his collar higher.
Beneath the collar was a vivid love bite.
"Got bitten by a mosquito at the office last night. It's nothing, don't worry."
By the time I came back to myself, he'd already fastened the necklace around my throat.
His fingertips had just traced my collarbone, and they still reeked—that sticky, rancid musk of someone else's skin.
I forced the nausea down, picked up his phone, and held it out to him.
"Happy anniversary, Lambert. Your gift is on here."
"Open it. You might like it."
He looked puzzled for a second, then took the phone.
The moment the screen lit up, notifications flooded in. When he saw what they were, his anger spiked white-hot in an instant.
"Ellie, have you lost your mind?!"
"You put those chat logs online—what the hell is wrong with you? Do you have any idea what this is going to do to Lydia?"
"All this over one work project? You'd really pull something this disgusting?!"
Lambert's brow was knotted tight, and the look he gave me was pure disappointment.
"I told you it was just work. She and I are divorced, there's nothing between us. You can't even give me the most basic trust? Is that how pathetic I am in your eyes?"
I couldn't help it. I laughed.
Vaginal restoration as a cover to fuck another woman, and he still had the nerve to question me.
So righteous. So pathetic.
His face darkened another shade.
Before I could say anything, Lydia appeared at the door, tears streaking her face, walked straight in, and dropped to her knees in front of me.
"Yes, I love Lambert! I loved him with nothing to hide. But he still chose you—you already won, Ellie. So why are you doing this to me? Do you want me dead?"
"Fine! I shouldn't have loved him. I'm cheap. I deserve to die. Here—I'm on my knees. Is that enough for you?"
The moment her words landed, Lambert looked at me like he wanted to kill me.
"Ellie, I never thought you'd turn out to be this stupid and this cruel. I honestly—"
I cut him off, my voice steady. "I am stupid. Stupid enough to be played like a fool. So let's get a divorce."
He went blank for a beat.
Then fury and humiliation fused together, and he grabbed my arm and wrenched me off the sofa.
My abdomen—still raw from the procedure—cracked against the table edge. Pain blacked out my vision and I gasped, breath after ragged breath.
The flash of concern in his eyes vanished as quickly as it came.
Seeing her moment, Lydia choked out through tears, "You've been sending me anonymous messages for weeks, humiliating me—I took all of it. And now you post the chat logs for the whole internet to see, let them dox me, drag me through the mud—just because Lambert and I loved each other once, you can't even stand me existing?"
