A trace of desperation flickered in Jane's eyes, her instincts battling her pride, yet her words still rang with condescension.

"Mike, I've told you time and again, that Winston and I are just friends. I'm looking after him because he's sick."

"Really? Getting jealous over nothing? Why do you always think the worst of me, never trust me?"

Normally, such blatant gaslighting would've set me off.

But this time, I felt absolutely nothing.

She was still lying, even now.

I closed my eyes, suddenly unsure why I'd ever fallen for her.

This love lasted thirty years.

Thirty years is a lifetime of fidelity on my part, managing our businesses, and playing the fool whenever she stepped out.

I never demanded much, just some semblance of respect, to be seen as a man rather than a fool.

But even that was asking too much from her.

I played the recording from that night, their voices filling the room with uncomfortable truths.

Jane froze, her complexion turning ghostly, then in a fit of rage, she grabbed my phone and hurled it to the ground.

"You recorded that..." she gasped, "How could you do this to me!"

She swung at me again.

But this time, I blocked her.

Once, I would've endured endless indignities for her love.

Not anymore.

"Jane, the security's on their way. Try to keep some dignity."

I was firm, asking her to leave once more.

Winston, eager to avoid a bigger scene, tugged at her arm.

"Let's head out, Jane. I get that Emily was faking her illness, but competing with her over you was wrong. It's just led to more trouble."

Faking her illness?

My brain stalled, struggling to process.

Before I knew it, my fist had met Winston's stupid face.

Jane, momentarily lost in guilt, snapped back to full alertness.

She shielded Winston, fussing over his face in front of me.

"Mike, what's gotten into you today?!"

My gaze fixed on Winston, "You better run back to your mess of a business."

Winston, feeling the threat, flushed but tried to play it cool, "Jane, cool it with the anger. Don't let me mess up what you two have. If Mike can't see the truth about Emily, I'll act like I don't know either."

I turned to Jane, "You believe she was faking too?"

Jane stayed silent, but her look told me everything I needed to know.

I burst out laughing, though it was more bitter than amused.

"Jane, you're not cut out to be a mom."

I spread Emily's medical records across the table, notices of her critical condition stamped all over.