How I Played the Perfect Wife，Until He Broke Again

After remarrying Jesiah Spencer, I became the perfect, compliant wife.

Jesiah once said, If you'd been this agreeable from the start, maybe we never would've divorced.

Even at a college reunion, his drunk friends would mock me,

You really are Jesiah's slave, aren't you? Even after divorcing, you just had to get back with him. You totally messed up his chance to marry Serena.

The atmosphere instantly grew thick with awkwardness. Jesiah probably expected me to blow up like I used to.

But I just smiled, saying nothing.

They all thought I remarried Jesiah because I loved him too much.

The truth? I'd been so angry during our last divorce that I walked away with absolutely nothing, suffering a devastating financial loss.

This time, after we remarried, I immediately drafted a new prenuptial agreement.

When we divorced again, I wouldn't be the one left empty-handed.

After the party, Jesiah said to me in the car, "I feel like your attitude towards me has been off ever since we remarried"

"You're being overly sensitive," I calmly replied.

"Before we got back together, I promised you repeatedly that I wouldn't let Serena interfere in our lives again, and I'd keep my distance from her. Even at the reunion tonight, she and I kept to ourselves. What more do you want from me?"

He wasn't known for his patience, so hearing him actually string together that many words was practically unheard of.

"I've told you countless times, if Serena's father hadn't helped me back then, I never would've made it out of that poor little town."

I locked my phone screen and stared at him, calmly meeting his impatience. "You don't need to explain, I know."

I'd heard the same story a million times.

That's why I'd endured it when, after graduation, Jesiah went to great lengths to fast-track Serena's recruitment into the hospital, keeping her by his side.

That's why I'd endured her frequent appearances in our lives, even on our wedding anniversaries, there was always a third person tagging along.

That's why I'd endured their endless sharing of daily details, while my own attempts at conversation were always met with cold, clipped words.

But when I came home early from a business trip and found them tangled up, naked, that was it.

I couldn't endure it anymore.

I demanded a divorce, willing to walk away with nothing just to cut ties with him.

But then, not long after, my mother was diagnosed with an aggressive tumor and needed surgery.

And it turned out, Jesiah was the only surgeon who could perform it.

So, I went and begged him.

What truly chilled me to the bone wasn't just my emotional backlash, but his utterly callous attitude.

"Chloe, you know I've been incredibly busy since my promotion."

"But if the patient were my own family, I'd definitely make time to operate myself."

"So do you finally understand what you did wrong?"

I stared at him, stunned, and under his smug, self-satisfied expression, I nodded.

We remarried.

But our relationship was irrevocably broken.

Even sleeping in the same bed, we were strangers.

Just like today.

"Jesiah! I knew you hadn't left yet! I told you, you wouldn't abandon Serena!"

Serena's college friend, Sarah, waved from a distance. She helped a half-drunk Serena walk over to us.

"Serena's so beautiful, I just couldn't let her go home alone. Didn't you always take her home before?"

She glanced at me, subtly, her tone laced with mockery. "Chloe, you're pretty 'safe-looking,' you'll be fine going home by yourself, right?"

Jesiah looked at Serena, leaning against her friend, then at me.

He looked conflicted.

It stung, just as it always did, no matter how many times I witnessed his hesitation.

But unlike before, when I would shout and scream, this time I simply raised my phone, expressionless. "My ride's here. I'm leaving."

Just then, my Uber arrived. Jesiah helped Serena into the back seat, rolled down the window, and looked up at me. "You go home first and wait for me."

"Tomorrow is your mother's final surgery. We need to discuss the details tonight."

As expected, Jesiah didn't come home that night.

But thankfully, I wasn't like I used to be.

Foolishly waiting up for him.

If a breakup is a massive withdrawal, then I'd been tortured by that feeling twice.

The first time, I broke down, deleting his number and throwing away everything related to him.

But after years together, he was ingrained in every corner of my life.

The books he'd given me still held his love letters, each word pouring out his deepest feelings.

The scarf he'd knitted for a whole month, pricking his fingers raw, he'd still smiled foolishly, asking me to try it on.

He knew I loved stargazing, so he'd used two months' worth of his part-time earnings to buy a telescope and confessed his love to me under a once-in-a-lifetime meteor shower.

"Chloe, I grew up without parents, no one to look out for me. I just want to be yours, completely, to let you guide me."

But then, later, he said, "In this world, I see Serena as my only family. Chloe, can't you just stop being so possessive?"

Family? What kind of family sleeps naked in the same bed?

Honestly, from the very beginning, I'd heard rumors about him and Serena at school.

They said Jesiah was the top student, and the school made an exception to admit Serena because of him.

They were from the same small town, their bond so close from childhood, I couldn't help but be suspicious.

But he'd told me, "Serena's father practically adopted me back then, otherwise I would have died. I owe him everything."

"But Chloe, don't worry, in my heart, she's only ever been like a sister to me."

I believed him, and I paid for it with five years of my life.

To be honest, that first time I saw him again after our divorce, my heart still pounded in my chest for him.

His phone lock screen was still our photo together, as if nothing had changed.

Remarrying him, I told myself, was my second attempt at withdrawal.

I couldn't forgive him and pretend nothing happened.

Nor could I just walk away cleanly right then.

So, I decided to let the pain slowly chip away at me, like a dull blade.

Even if it hurt more, even if it took longer.

But thankfully, after six months, I was finally numb.

Once my mother's last surgery was done, I could divorce him again, free from any burdens.

I'd already drafted the divorce papers: 70% for me, 30% for him.

After all, he was the one who messed up. He had to pay a price, didn't he?

However, the next day, Jesiah disappeared.

The substitute surgeon, thrust onto the operating table, was sweating profusely. "We can't reach Dr. Spencer! You're his wife, don't you know where he is?"

"I have less than a ten percent chance of success with this surgery. You you need to prepare yourself!"

Jesiah's phone went straight to voicemail.

I called him over a hundred times, until my fingers were numb, mechanically dialing the same number again and again.

Until, after what felt like an eternity, someone finally answered.

"Jesiah, where in the world are"

"Oh, it's Chloe. Jesiah went back to his hometown with me for an emergency. He's in the shower right now."

*Buzz.* My mind went completely blank.

My phone slipped from my hand and smashed to the floor, its screen shattering into a spiderweb.

Was it my imagination, or did I hear Jesiah's voice through the receiver? "Who's calling? Is it Chloe?"

"No, just a spam call"

For the next three hours.

I knelt outside the operating room, begging for my mother's life, pleading with whatever gods would listen not to take her.

But when the lights of the operating room finally dimmed, all I received was a death certificate.

2.

I handled my mother's funeral all by myself.

For seven days, I drifted in a daze.

It wasn't until the eighth day that Jesiah finally returned.

"I'm sorry, I"

Before he could finish, I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face.

"Jesiah Spencer, you bastard!"

"You killed my mother!"

I put every ounce of my fury into that slap. Jesiah's head snapped to the side.

To my surprise, he didn't get angry.

He just calmly explained, "Your mother's condition wasn't good. Even if the surgery succeeded, she would have been tormented by chemotherapy treatments over and over again."

"Serena's father suddenly fell gravely ill. If I didn't go back with her, she might not have seen her father for the last time."

I was trembling with rage, unable to form a coherent sentence.

But his cruelty didn't stop there.

"You never had a father growing up, so it's only natural you wouldn't understand this kind of bond."

I stared at him in disbelief.

I couldn't reconcile the man in front of me with the loving partner from my memories.

He knew. He knew my father died in his mistress's bed when I was eight, and that it was a pain that had haunted me my entire life.

Back then, he'd held me close, comforting me, vowing to love me forever.

In that moment, I completely lost it.

I grabbed everything within reach and hurled it at him, screaming for him to die.

But he just watched me rage, his eyes cold, and finally said, "Chloe, I actually prefer you like this."

"Stop pretending from now on. It's pointless."

After he left, I collapsed onto the cluttered floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

I started to hate him.

I hated how he'd used the very weapon I'd given him to stab me through the heart, without so much as a flinch.

My phone suddenly rang. It was Serena.

*Hey there, sis. Heard about your mom. My condolences~*

*It's all Jesiah's fault. I told him my dad just had a slight cold, but he just *had* to abandon you and your mom to come home with me.*

*But who told you to keep pestering him to remarry you? You only have yourself to blame, right?*

Those messages stripped me of all reason.

Clutching my phone, I rushed to the hospital and reported Jesiah Spencer and Serena's improper relationship to the administration.

I reported Jesiah for gross medical negligence, disappearing before surgery due to personal reasons, which led to my mother's death.

But the hospital didn't immediately launch an investigation. They merely "invited" me into an office.

They said it was a private matter, and they couldn't intervene.

Their words were a warning: Jesiah was a brilliant surgeon they'd invested heavily in. They advised me to let it go.

When Jesiah arrived, I was in the middle of arguing passionately with Dean Thompson. "How can it have nothing to do with him? If it weren't for him, my mother wouldn't have died!"

But Jesiah simply said, "I apologize, my wife has been through a lot lately, and her mental state might be a bit unstable."

The glances that had held a touch of sympathy instantly turned complex.

They instinctively took a few steps back, creating a distance between us.

Soon, only Jesiah and I remained in the cramped office.

"Chloe, apologize."

I had cried so much my eyes were swollen, blurring his face, but I could feel his condescending presence.

"You shouldn't have caused a scene at the hospital. What if it gets out and damages Serena's reputation?"

"So, I need you to apologize to her."

I stopped wasting my breath on him and turned to open the door.

I was going to contact the media, reporters, and expose their illicit affair.

But then I heard him sigh softly behind me.

"Then don't blame me."

As the youngest Chief Resident in the hospital, a brilliant young mind already famous in the medical world, he'd taken seven years to climb to this position.

But it would only take him seven days to have me committed to a psychiatric hospital.

I lost count of how many times I insisted I wasn't sick, only to be met with larger doses of sedatives and tighter restraints.

I began to calm down, stopped resisting, and waited for my chance.

Finally, I seized it.

I escaped.