I Changed My Husband After a Crash

"Want to eat together?" Howard asked, coming over to grab the food. His fingertips brushed my cheek. "Celine, don't be mad. I have to establish authority in front of my employees. You're the one who taught me that."

I turned away, disgusted by the scent of ointment and another woman's perfume on his fingers. I didn't answer.

"You're not jealous, are you? How could there ever be anything between Crystal and me? You know I can't stand people who make trouble."

When I still didn't respond, he continued, "Alright, alright. It's my fault. I've been traveling so much and haven't been taking good care of you. I promise, once this project is done, we'll have the wedding."

He probably wasn't aware that each time he mentioned Crystal, a smile hid in his eyes.

"Howie, I'm starving! My stomach is growling!" Crystal's faux-cheerful voice rang out, and Howard rushed to her side.

I declined their invitation to eat together, claiming I needed rest. I went upstairs by myself and packed my things.

Clothes and jewelry could be replaced, but I had to take some items with me.

Howard always called me a spoiled rich woman who knew nothing about hardship and only used money to solve problems. I pretended not to care, but I took every word to heart.

Half a year ago, I started learning handmade crafts just to prove him wrong. First, I made an exquisite wooden gift box. Then, a thick, handcrafted picture book.

The book was full of little mechanisms—a compartment for cigarette ash, even a tiny fox tucked inside. But what mattered most was the five years of memories it held. The final section was meant for both of us to write our hopes for the future together.

This was the surprise gift I had poured my heart into for his birthday this year. And in return, he had crushed my heart under his foot.

He didn't deserve this gift.

My fingers traced over the tiny scars the carving knife had left on my hand. A tear dropped onto the page. I picked up a pen and wrote, "Howard and I have no future."

The tears weren't for him; they commemorated the five years of love that had ended without a proper goodbye.

A knock came at the door. Crystal stood outside the study. "Celine, sorry to bother you. Can I borrow your pajamas?"

As I lowered my head to wipe my tears, she had already walked to my side.

"Are you sad?" she asked, her tone smug and nothing like the timid act from before.

I was taken aback, but it wasn't surprising. This was a woman who had slapped herself to manipulate others, after all.

I didn't reply. Instead, I pressed a black button on my desk, activating the study's hidden camera.

"Celine, you should just give up. You can't win against me," Crystal said, folding her arms and looking down at me.

She continued, "You're not as young, pretty, or fun as I am. And you definitely don't know what a man wants. Do you really think you can keep him by giving him everything and helping him succeed? Let me tell you something. Women who are too capable never get a happy ending.

"Only I can make Howard feel like a real man. Only I can give him everything he wants. Don't believe me? You'll see soon enough. I guarantee it."

With that, she let out a loud scream, grabbed my collar, and shoved me toward the window. The moment Howard ran over, she flipped our positions perfectly, making it look like I was the one threatening her.

Howard yanked me aside to get to her, and I stumbled into the bookshelf. Out of habit, he moved to help me up, but Crystal immediately grabbed his arm, whimpering, "I'm so scared. I really messed up. I've brought nothing but trouble. I shouldn't have worked in your company…"

Howard covered her mouth. "Don't say that! Don't be afraid. I'm here. I won't let anyone hurt you!"

He then turned to me and said, "Celine, I already explained everything. Why don't you trust me? Are you trying to kill her now?"