The Thorns of Love

In the second year of our marriage, my husband, Sean Everstone and his 'adoptive sister' posted a marriage certificate on social media.

When I confronted him, he snapped impatiently, "Mischa and I have a show coming up, it's just a publicity stunt. Can't you stop overreacting?"

Later, it turned out that our marriage certificate was fake. He stopped pretending.

He openly professed his love for her, seized my family assets and even triggered my mother's fatal illness.

When their lovey-dovey actions knocked over my mother's urn, I finally gave up hope.

***

In these two years of marriage, Sean rarely had time to spend with me.

This morning, I checked his latest update. The picture showed two marriage certificates arranged in the shape of a heart, captioned: "My one true love; I'll love you forever, @Mischa is so adorable."

Mischa Preston was his junior apprentice and she had followed him since her debut.

I immediately called Sean. He answered with his usual gentle voice, "Krystal, what's the matter?"

I didn't beat around the bush, "What's the meaning of your latest post? You're my husband, yet you've registered marriage with my step sister. Are you playing games with me, Sean?"

His tone turned impatient, "Mischa and I have a show coming up. It's just for marketing purposes. Can't you stop being so dramatic? I work hard every day, filming till late at night, who am I doing this for? Isn't it all for this family? Can you just understand and be a bit more considerate?"

I silently endured Sean's scolding. Then I asked softly, "When will you be back? It's Mom's birthday in a few days. Let's go home and have dinner together …"

He hurriedly replied, "We'll see," and hung up.

Right before the call ended, I thought I heard Mischa's voice in the background. She asked quietly, "Is that Krystal? Does she know about us?" I wasn't sure if I'd heard wrong.

Sean's affection for his junior apprentice Mischa was well-known in the crew.

My friends had warned me about the possibility between them more than once.

So I called him again. The mechanical voice of a female operator suddenly sounded: "The number you dialed is currently switched off."

The room was silent, so silent I could hear my anxious heartbeat grow louder. Suddenly, darkness enveloped the room.

The pattering of rain grew louder, like the volume had been turned up. Did Sean have an umbrella with him? If he got drenched, he would surely catch a cold.

Sean was filming a fantasy drama, spending months in the mountains. He once mentioned how hard it was to sleep because of the mosquitoes. So I quit my job and rented the best apartment nearby.

Unfortunately, though, the apartment was in a remote area and even the best unit had no parking.

Today, with the fierce wind and rain, he would surely get sick without an umbrella. I got up, found an umbrella, put on a raincoat, went downstairs and waited in advance.

The heavy rain blurred everything, casting a hazy white veil that made it hard to see clearly. The wind carried the cold rain and I pulled my coat tighter around myself.

A moment later, a familiar Maybach drove into the complex. I immediately opened the umbrella and ran over.

"Why are you so slow? Didn't you see the car come in?" Sean hunched his shoulders and got out, standing under the umbrella.

"The rain was too heavy, it was hard to see …" I explained, reaching to take his arm so we could quickly head into the apartment.

But in the next second, Sean brushed me aside, took the umbrella from my hand and walked straight to the passenger side.