That evening, I was at home, packing up my things.
I destroyed everything from the past—photo albums, wedding pictures, even the little crafts I had once made with Eric.
Even the memories I thought were engraved deep in my heart.
I even had the butler dig up the garden that Eric had once planted for me outside.
After everything was done, I finally collapsed, exhausted.
A decade’s worth of emotions had long seeped into my bones. Even if I wanted to erase them now, it wasn’t something that could be done overnight.
I picked up my phone, trying to distract myself with something mindless.
But the moment I opened it, the screen lit up with a picture of Tessa and Eric.
They were leaning against each other, grinning ear to ear and holding up two marriage certificates.
It felt like a bolt of lightning had struck me. I couldn’t stop myself from zooming in on the photo. No matter how hard I stared, those two marriage certificates were undeniably real.
Even the steel stamps on them looked official.
Then I saw who had posted it—it was my mother-in-law.
Eric’s own mother.
Not only had she posted their marriage certificate photos publicly on her Facebook updates, but she even added a caption.
[Finally, I have a real daughter-in-law. She brought a precious baby with her when she joined our family. She's truly a blessed woman—unlike certain people who do nothing but complain all day and can’t even lay an egg.]
I swallowed my pain and saved all the photos immediately.
Sure enough, just a moment later, the post disappeared from her updates.
I retrieved our marriage certificate and divorce agreement from the drawer.
Then, after carefully comparing them to the photo, I sent everything to a professional for verification.
Ten minutes later, the results came back.
The marriage certificate I had… was fake.
What Eric had hidden from me went far beyond his fertility issues.
Even our entire ten-year marriage had been a lie.
I couldn’t hold back any longer. I ripped everything to shreds.
He had deceived me like this—and I wasn’t going to let him get away with it.
That evening, I received a message from him.
[Melanie, what happened today was my fault. Come to this private room. I’ll apologize to you. Remember to dress appropriately.]
I stared at the message, expressionless.
I packed the marriage certificate and all the photos.
Tonight, I was going to confront Eric—once and for all.
I was going to ask him: On what grounds did he treat me like this?
Standing outside the private room door, I hadn’t even entered yet when I heard Tessa’s laughter echoing from inside.
I had thought it would be just me and Eric tonight.
But clearly, he had brought Tessa with him.
I clenched my fists, then closed my eyes tightly.
Whether she was there or not—it didn’t matter.
Tonight, everything would be settled.
Without hesitation, I pushed open the door and stepped in.
The room was full of people.
The moment he saw me, Eric’s brows furrowed deeply.
“What are you doing here? Are you following me?” he asked coldly.
His accusing tone lit the fire in my chest. He was the one who told me to come here!
I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could speak, Tessa gently tugged on his sleeve.
“Never mind,” she said sweetly. “Melanie’s already here. Don’t make things awkward. She just wanted to see you.”
She looked at me with pity in her eyes—like she was the wife.
And just like that, my heart twisted painfully.
Yes. Tessa was the legitimate wife now.
Eric and I had spent ten years together, but all we had was a fake marriage certificate.
What right did I have to call her the mistress?
Eric hesitated for a moment, frowning again, but eventually let me take a seat.
