She Said She Was Frigid — I Left, She Regretted

I had been with my frigid girlfriend for eight years, and she had never even let me hold her hand.

I thought she was simply disinterested in intimacy, so I still treated her wholeheartedly.

Until one day, while working part-time as an NPC in a haunted house, I saw her pinning her “true love” against the wall, kissing him with passionate reluctance to part.

“Ryan, my mother values Adrian Foster’s ‘prosperous-wife’ fortune. If she won’t let you and me get married, then I’ll save my first time, and every time, just for you.”

“When our child is born and I gain the Morgan family inheritance rights, I’ll divorce that useless man immediately.”

Claire Morgan’s words were laced with venom.

But later, after I took a hit to ward off misfortune for the New York socialite, she regretted it.

“But whenever I think about Adrian Foster openly and legitimately holding a wedding with you, Claire, I get so jealous I could lose my mind.”

“You…” Claire reached out to tap Ryan Morgan’s nose. “I already went with you to Ireland to get our marriage license, signed a hundred-year contract, and you’re still not satisfied?”

Though her words sounded like a scolding, anyone could hear the affection in her tone.

I stood not far away, the cheap headpiece mixed with the greasy paint on my cheeks suffocating me to the point I felt I might pass out.

“When Adrian Foster proposes to me, I’ll tell him I’ve been cured of my frigidity. Then, at our candlelit dinner, I’ll slip in some sleeping pills to make sure we won’t have too much physical contact.”

“In this way, my little jealous darling, will you be satisfied?”

Seeing Ryan Morgan keeping up his act without answering, Claire laughed and let her hand drift lower.

“If you don’t say anything, I’ll have to ask my little Ryan!”

Ryan let out a soft hum, wrapped his arms protectively around Claire’s head, and turned to pin her against the wall.

I froze where I stood.

Claire’s words were like ice picks stabbing into my heart again and again—cold and painful.

Eight years with Claire, and even though she put on a good act, I always knew—

Her favoritism toward Ryan had never lessened, not even a little.

Eight years ago, to keep Ryan from being kicked out of the Morgan family, she compromised and got together with me.

Six years ago, just because Ryan said he wanted hotpot, she abandoned a press conference and flew overseas without a second thought.

Three years ago, to keep Ryan company during a thunderstorm, she nearly got me killed at the hands of kidnappers.

Now, to prevent Ryan from being wronged, she tricked me into a sham marriage and even planned to drug me, making sure I’d wear that green hat firmly.

I respected her, cherished her, gave her my heart and soul.

I thought that one day, I could warm her heart.

And the result?

For a fleeting moment, I wanted to rush up and ask Claire—

Did she really have no heart at all?

But when I saw the two of them burning like dry tinder meeting a raging flame, I suddenly felt it was all meaningless.

I unclenched my fists and turned toward the surveillance room.

The Morgan family valued my “prosperous-wife” fortune and had sponsored me for decades.

But as soon as I graduated from college, I was sent to Claire’s side to manage her company and take care of her daily needs.

By now, I had long since repaid the Morgan family’s kindness.

I wanted to escape.

But the words “let’s break up” could not come from my mouth…

Just as I finished saving those surveillance files, a sudden scream rang out from outside the door.

Ryan Morgan, a grown man, was trembling in Claire’s arms at that moment.

“Claire, I’m scared!”

Seeing his affected posture made me almost vomit up yesterday’s meal.

But Claire, of course, ate it right up.

Without saying a word, she walked up and slapped me twice.

“Didn’t I say my husband is afraid of ghosts? I booked the whole venue today, gave all the NPCs the day off—so why are you here?!”