REVENGE ON MY UNFAITHFUL HUSBAND

Ruby, You're Back

Late at night, everything was silent.

"Ruby!"

Micah shouted my name, jolting awake from a nightmare, his right hand clutching his chest as he gasped for air. I saw beads of sweat covering his forehead as his chest heaved up and down.

Frantically, he grabbed his phone off the nightstand and dialed my number again. Still, it went straight to voicemail. He opened our chat history, staring at the last message where he had threatened me. Only now did he realize I might actually be upset—for the first time, I had disappeared for more than three days without saying a word. Under his breath, he muttered, "Women are such trouble."

Then, he called his assistant. "First thing in the morning, go to the jewelry store and buy the Ocean's Heart, and bring a bouquet of yellow roses." Yellow roses meant an apology.

In his mind, I was just throwing another tantrum, something he could fix with a few sweet words and a nice gift. He thought he could just wave his hand, and I'd come back. But as he lay there, unable to sleep, a look of pain spread across his face. Half-conscious, he mumbled, "Ruby, bring me my stomach medicine." The room was empty, though—there was no one to answer him.

I watched him from across the room, clutching his stomach in agony. His stomach had always been weak, and I had spent years nursing him back to health, always keeping his medicine on hand for moments like this. But after I lost the baby, things between us were never the same. Now, with Zoey constantly around, he had been neglecting his health again.

Micah curled up in pain on the bed. I stood by, watching coldly. There's no one left to bring you your medicine, Micah. He fumbled through the drawer, finally finding the stomach pills I'd always left in an easy-to-reach spot.

But when he pulled out the bottle, it was buried under little trinkets Zoey had given him, and the pills had expired a month ago. Only then did he realize how fragile our relationship had become. We were supposed to get married, yet he spent almost all his time with Zoey.

Maybe in his moment of agony, he remembered the good things I had done for him. I saw his eyes grow wet, and he whispered, "Ru... Ruby..." Suddenly, he looked straight at me, as if he could see me standing there. Stumbling toward me, he smiled faintly through the pain, "You're back."

With a thud, Micah collapsed at my feet, unconscious.

Once, I would have panicked. Now, I just stared at him coldly. What can a dead woman like me do? I felt nothing for him anymore. I walked to the window, watching the snow swirl under the streetlights. I couldn't even protect my own body, so what else was there to protect? If Micah died, it would only be what he deserved.

Morning came, and when his assistant couldn't reach him, he rushed over to find Micah lying on the floor. "Mr. Shark, are you alright?" He tried to wake him up.

"Ruby!" Micah gasped, grabbing the assistant's hand and calling my name.

"Mr. Shark, what happened? Why are you sleeping on the floor?" Micah blinked in confusion, his face pale. "Where's Ruby?"

"Mrs. Shark is still in Ioton, right? Are you okay?"

Micah muttered to himself, "So, it was just a dream."

"You must be missing her," the assistant said. "I've got the flowers and the gift ready. Should I go now? Or maybe you should see a doctor first?"

Micah hesitated, clearly unsettled by whatever dream he'd had. "No, just get ready for the airport."

In the closet, he opened drawer after drawer filled with light-colored suits, realizing it had been a long time since he wore anything dark. And it had been a year since I bought him any new clothes. Our home, our bedroom—it was all filled with Zoey now, while I had faded from his life.

Micah finally found the black suit he had worn to our engagement. It was perfectly preserved, still crisp and clean in a garment bag. Back then, he couldn't take his eyes off me, too nervous to even tie his own bowtie. I had worn a white dress, smiling as I helped him fix it. Our eyes met, filled with warmth and love. "You look so good in this suit, I might just break the rules," I teased, kissing him softly. We were eighteen, and love felt like a gentle spring rain—so perfect.

Now, Micah put on the suit, probably thinking it would bring us back together. But the man staring back at him in the mirror wasn't the same. The innocence was gone, replaced by a grim expression. Feelings, like time, can't turn back.

"Let's go to the airport," he said.

"There's still time, Mr. Shark. How about breakfast first? Mrs. Shark said you have to eat on time because of your stomach." Micah paused, hand on the door, and the assistant nervously added, "You don't have to if you're not hungry. There's food on the plane."

"No, just something light here," Micah replied absently. He ate quickly, clearly distracted, then rose. "Get the car. We're going to the airport."

But just as he was leaving, a shout came from upstairs. "Sir, something's wrong with Zoey!"

Micah rushed past me in a flash, bolting upstairs to find Zoey collapsed. In seconds, he was carrying her to the car.

"Airport?" the assistant asked carefully.

"Hospital," Micah replied without hesitation.

No one was surprised. For two years, whenever Zoey and I were both in trouble, he always chose her. This time was no different, and I felt nothing—just numb.

I looked up at the second-floor balcony, where a figure sat in a wheelchair, watching everything unfold. Lyle's lips curled into a mocking smile.