CHAPTER 1

"Let's get a divorce, Yongsann," he said rudely as he entered our room. It was still early in the morning, but those irritating words greeted me.

"I haven't had a decent night's sleep since your concert ended, Grantt. Do you even have the slightest concern to ask how I'm doing?" I shouted, my voice filled with frustration.

This guy has a knack for pushing my buttons. Despite my enduring patience, he consistently manages to find new and exasperating ways to drain it, like a relentless mosquito buzzing around, testing the limits of my sanity.

It has been two days since his 4th-anniversary concert ended, and immediately after, he left without a word, not saying where he was going.

As his manager, I wanted to report him as a missing person if I hadn't seen his post yesterday morning with his non-celebrity friends and his famous singing partner, Wendy.

Like, what the hell is wrong with him? Even if he doesn't acknowledge me as his wife, the least he could do is maintain a professional demeanor. I'm still stuck being his handler.

It's infuriating to think that due to his fame, there's a constant risk of someone grabbing him and callously throwing him off the iconic San Juanico Bridge or into the murky depths of the Pasig River. The frustration of dealing with his antics intensifies as I contemplate the absurd possibilities.

I shut down my laptop and stood up. Against my will, I went to get him some clothes to change into. I didn't want any traces of his girlfriend's perfume on our bedsheets. That's something I absolutely cannot accept, and he knows about it.

"If you don't want me to start another fight, I suggest you change your clothes."

I remember how intense our argument was before because his bed was accidentally sprayed with the perfume Wendy gave him. If it weren't for work, we probably wouldn't have spoken to each other for four months. He couldn't even bring himself to spray any kind of perfume in our room, unless I bought it.

My sensitivity is overwhelming, perhaps explaining why, despite being married for four years, our married life remains stagnant. Our union was solely based on the desires of our parents, lacking any genuine connection.

Yeah. It is a loveless marriage, void of the emotional fulfillment and growth that should accompany such a commitment.

He had just started his singing career when we got married. That's the reason why 98% of the people who know us are unaware that we are married. Even his fans and Wendy don't know about it, so he absolutely despises seeing us together outside of work. He's allergic to my presence.

That is exactly what I want. I find fulfillment in my role as his manager, as it brings a sense of peace to my life. There is no love between us, and we both feel the same way. Our marriage exists only on paper, devoid of any deep affection for each other.

He retorted sarcastically, "And who do you think you are, assuming the authority to dictate what I should or shouldn't do?"

I sat on the edge of the bed, two strides away from him, but we were facing each other.

"Do you want me to introduce myself to your fans? You think you can handle that?" I fired back, my tone laced with a threat. His gaze intensified, and his jaw clenched in response as I smirked mischievously.

He's seriously mesmerizing, with his eyebrows perfectly arched, meeting in the middle when he's all riled up. His eyes, a captivating golden amber, have this irresistible pull. And that nose, so pointed, just adds to his sharp features, perfectly matching his lips that practically beg to be kissed.

However, his good looks no longer affect me. He isn't a gentleman, and he's far from being sweet. He only smiles or laughs when he's with Wendy.

Fine, he loves Wendy. So what? I'm still his wife.

I suppressed a sigh and averted my gaze from him. No matter how I twist the situation, I'm still at a disadvantage.

"If you're tired of me, you can sign the annulment papers; they're just in the drawer," he said and stood up.

As soon as he entered the shower room, I quickly put his dirty clothes from his travel bag into the laundry basket.

After a few minutes, he walks out butt-naked. I've seen his bare body more times than I can count, but I make a point not to pay any attention or even sneak a peek, pretending as if I haven't seen a damn thing.

"Don't bother going to the studio today. You've already spent over 48 hours with Wendy, right?" I casually remarked while refocusing on my laptop. From the corner of my eye, I could see him quietly getting dressed.

"Why? I thought you didn't care about what's going on between Wendy and me?" he sarcastically retorted, as he always does when it's just the two of us. By now, his tone has become the norm for me.

"I never said I cared, did I? Fine, go if you want to. It's your life," I replied nonchalantly.

He slumped down and fell silent. I glanced at the wall clock and noticed that it was already past 6:00 a.m. I entered the shower room. It's not just him that I've managed as an artist; there were four of them.

I took a shower, despite the freezing weather. It's already the "Ber" months, so the temperature in Tagaytay is extremely low. I rarely come here, only on working days, as I stay in my condo in Quezon City. Grantt has his own condo there too, so he rarely visits here.

I wrapped a towel around myself as I stepped out of the shower room. I slapped my forehead when I realized I hadn't prepared any clothes. I moved quietly, being careful not to wake Grantt. He looked tired, so he quickly fell asleep.

I opened my wardrobe and carefully selected an outfit, as I dislike it when clothes become disorganized in storage. Being too lazy to tidy up, I made sure to maintain their neat arrangement.

"Oh, shit," I softly muttered as the towel slipped off my body and fell to the floor. I quickly glanced at Grantt and breathed a sigh of relief upon realizing he was still asleep.

Deciding not to bother picking up the towel, I felt comfortable with my body devoid of fabric as I searched for something to wear.

"What should I wear, hmm? This or this?" I pondered aloud. "Perhaps this thick one, considering the cold weather," I declared, a smile forming as I retrieved a long-sleeved shirt. I would simply layer it with a coat.

As I turned around, our gazes locked directly. He simply stared at me. Suddenly, my heart raced, unsure of whether I should retrieve the towel from the floor or don the long-sleeved shirt I held in my hands.

I had no idea how Grantt managed to get so close to me in an instant. He swiftly closed the cabinet and pressed me against it. With nothing but skin between us, I could feel the warmth of his body against mine, the cabinet creating an intimate cocoon.

"Grantt, what are you doing?" I asked, my voice filled with nervous anticipation. Our faces were mere inches apart, the tension between us palpable.

"Why? You're my wife. There's nothing wrong with this," he replied, his voice laced with desire.

He ignited my senses with tender kisses on my neck, trailing down to my chest, his touch gentle yet progressively more passionate. His hands explored my most sensitive spots, evoking waves of pleasure that transported me to a heavenly realm. I berated myself silently for succumbing to weakness, unable to resist him.

I yearned to scold myself and silence the soft moans escaping my lips, afraid he might hear them and become even more daring.

Finally, I lost control as he spread my legs, his fingers skillfully and sensually teasing my most intimate area. This captivating jerk knew exactly how to drive me wild, leaving me utterly enraptured by his touch.

"Stop this, Grantt," I said, seizing the opportunity to try and halt his actions. He briefly paused and met my gaze. However, he wasn't satisfied; he deliberately bit my earlobe and whispered.

"Quit messing with me, Yongsann. If I catch you in the buff again, I won't hesitate to devour you."

"Damn it, you jerk!" I grumbled as he relentlessly targeted my weak spot, increasing the intensity.

"Next time, I'll have you moaning my name," he threatened, then turned his back and left the room, leaving me feeling like a discarded Barbie doll after being played with.

I sat down and rubbed my face. I couldn't even remember how we ended up like this. I couldn't recall the last time he treated me this way. It had been such a long time.

Before he could return, I quickly gathered myself and threw on some clothes. There was no way he was going to catch me bare again. I wouldn't let him lay a finger on me like that anymore.

I swear.

The sound of my cellphone snapped me back to reality. It was Kenth's name on the caller ID, so I promptly answered while putting on my earbuds.

"Hello, Kenth?"

Despite him being a famous artist, we were comfortable with each other. I was also one of his well-known childhood best friends. He was part of the 2% who knew the true state of my relationship with Grantt. He was often the one I spent time with during drinking sessions when I was extremely stressed. We were nothing more than friends.

"I'm back from L.A.," he happily informed me. I couldn't help but smile. He had been away for two weeks.

I stepped out of the room to prepare breakfast for my stubborn husband and me. I still fulfilled my responsibilities as a wife when I was with him. I paused near the kitchen door when I saw that he was already cooking breakfast. There was plenty of food, so I knew I would still get to eat even though he was the one doing the cooking.

"I'll go to your studio. Let's have lunch together, okay?"

I walked straight to the fridge and opened it to get some water. "Don't you plan on resting first?" I asked, subtly suggesting that he take a break. The trip from L.A. to the Philippines isn't easy. It can be quite tiring, especially if he attended a fashion show there.

"Since when did you start caring?" Grantt retorted. He probably thought I was talking to him.

I raised an eyebrow. Now it was my turn to get back at him. I approached him and imitated what he had done to me. I leaned in slightly and whispered to him.

"I am not talking to you, jerk! I'm talking to Kenth." I purposely brushed my hand against his solid abs.

In an instant, I moved away from him. He gave me a stern look. I simply grinned and continued my conversation with Kenth as if nothing had happened.

"Are you together with Grantt?"

"Yeah, anyway, about lunch. Sure thing. Let's meet up if you don't feel like resting. Bye."

I ended the call and turned my gaze towards Grantt. He was staring at me intently.

"What?" I asked innocently.

"You're talking to a guy in front of your husband? Where are your manners, Yongsann?"

I laughed sarcastically. "Now you're claiming to be my husband, huh? Since when did I become your wife?" I questioned, dripping with sarcasm.

"What did I say? It's just exhaustion, Grantt," he muttered to himself. He blatantly denied that I was his wife in front of me.

I remained silent and sat down, waiting for him to finish cooking.

"You have a duet song with Wendy this coming Sunday. You still have four days to rehearse," I informed him. He didn't hesitate to glance at me.

"What else?"

"Don't you have any plans to release a new song? Many of your fans are eagerly waiting. I no longer have control over that matter, so you should talk to your producer. I'm sure you're not aware of the severe backlash I received last night... Nevermind. You wouldn't be interested anyway."

He paused what he was doing, turned off the stove and gas tank.

"Backlash? What for? Why?" he asked, one question after another, as he sat down. He carefully served the food he cooked on the table but didn't bother inviting me or even handing me a plate. I had no choice but to stand up and get my own utensils.

"I don't know why your fans and Wendy's fans despise me so much. After all, I'm just your lowly manager. They're jealous because of the pictures we take together during big events, even though they mean nothing. We're just standing there, and I can't even manage to smile. What's the problem with GraWen fans? Is it because I'm prettier than your singing partner?"

He immediately gave me a disapproving look. "Why? Are you overreacting as if I insulted your girlfriend?" I added.

"Stop talking and just eat. You're ruining my appetite."

"I'm not trying to steal you away from Wendy. What more if they find out that we've slept in the same bed? That you kiss me whenever you want and..." I remembered what happened between us earlier in the room. Goosebumps formed on the back of my neck. "Never mind. Like I said, I'm going to eat."

I didn't lift my gaze. I just focused my attention on the food. It had been days since I had a proper meal. It seemed like this was the first time I had breakfast this month.

"You know how to cook," I praised him, and only then did he look at me. I wasn't sure if our gazes accidentally met or if he was deliberately staring at me.

"Wendy is such an amazing woman," he said with a serious tone.

"Sure, she is," I responded with a nod. "She's kind and humble, right?" I added.

"She's my ideal wife," he continued. I paused for a moment. His words may have struck a nerve.

"I apologize if I don't fit your ideal wife image, but here I am, sitting with you and talking to you as your wife," I answered casually, attempting to hide any offense I might have taken.

"Quit badmouthing her."

"I'm not. I'm just stating the truth, and I have no problems with her, okay? What I mentioned was based on what your fans say. Come on, Grantt. You're hurting my ego," I retorted, giving him a blank stare.

I didn't know why my chest tightened. It was the first time I felt offended by his statement that Wendy was his ideal wife, even though he had always boasted about her to me.

"So you can get hurt too?"

"I'm not a robot like you. And I'm not hurt because of what you said. What do I care about you two?" I said, and then I stood up.

"Are you done already?" he asked, even though it was obvious that I had lost my appetite.

Aish, this jerk! Should I just sign the annulment papers to end this nonsense?

"Where are our annulment papers?" I asked. He immediately looked at me.

"They're in the drawer, why? Have you made a decision?"

"Give me one more month. I will sign it too. We've been fooling around for years, Grantt. I'll give you the freedom you've been asking for. Let's finish celebrating your 4th anniversary in showbiz first. I promise to sign the papers."

He remained silent. I shook my head in response. I took a sip of water and reached for my cellphone on the table. My eyebrows furrowed when he abruptly grabbed it.

"What the hell? Give back my phone!" I retorted forcefully.

I clenched my fists, realizing that our wedding picture was on my home screen. That was the reason why no one else touched my phone except for me. I used a different phone when I was at work.

"What are you doing?" I asked again, successfully snatching my cellphone back.

I am left speechless as I see that my gallery is empty. All the pictures I have saved since high school are gone. I had just recovered them on my G****e Drive before I forgot the password to my G***l account.

Only memories remain with me from a time when my life wasn't miserable yet, and now even those are gone. They have been completely erased.

The weight of my emotions overwhelms me, leaving me with nothing else to do but silently let my tears flow.

"Let's just end it completely since we only have one month left anyway. Don't worry, I'll also delete all our wedding pictures from my cellphone. Let's get out of this mess, Yongsann. I hope you find a man who deserves your love."

He left me alone in the kitchen. Overwhelmed by the weakness I felt, I sat on the floor while staring at the blank white screen of my cellphone.

My fists clenched as I silently screamed, unable to release the pent-up frustration. I hate him. He's the one who dragged me into this situation, and now I'm here, suffering alone.

Forcefully wiping away my tears, I left the kitchen and found him in the room, packing his belongings.

So you're really leaving, Grantt? You're running away from this nightmare and leaving me behind? Do you think I'll just agree to be the one left behind? I should be the one leaving, not you. If anyone is leaving this house, it shouldn't be you. You have to stay here and remember that you ruined a woman's life.

"I'll leave it here," he pointed to the annulment paper.

"You're leaving? Really, Grantt?" I asked, my questions laced with threats. He looked at me.

"We'll eventually separate, Yongsann. What's the problem with that?"

"Are you sure you can live without me in your life?" I asked casually. He gazed at me, his thoughts unreadable at the moment.

"Why wouldn't I be able to? You know that I love Wendy."

It felt like a knife being plunged into my heart. I didn't know why I was hurting. I didn't know why I was angry that he could actually let me disappear completely from his life.

"Okay. As you said," I replied and smiled genuinely at him. It was a smile I had only given him now.

I let him witness my tears flowing again. I took the annulment paper and searched for a pen.

"Why are you crying? It's not like you want this either, so stop pretending."

Pretending? Is that all you have to say?

I searched and searched for a pen, but I couldn't find one. Now, when I was determined to sign it, no pen presented itself to me.

"Do you know that you're the worst person I've ever known?" I uttered through gritted teeth. Out of frustration, I punched him in the chest. He tried to dodge, but I still managed to hit him.

As weakness seeped into my body, his actions were swift and purposeful. He reached out, his touch firm yet gentle, firmly grasping my trembling hands. Without hesitation, he turned around and stood behind me, pulling me closer to him. It felt as though he was fitting himself against my back, forming an intimate connection as he tenderly embraced me from behind.

"You're too weak, Yongsann. That's why Greel chose to leave you," he said, his words piercing my heart and leaving me powerless.

I felt like all the pain had returned to my system upon hearing his brother's name.

Why did I agree to marry Greel's older brother, the same man who heartlessly abandoned me four years ago?

The realization hits me like a cruel reminder of my own foolishness and naivety. Weakness and stupidity intertwine within me, intensifying my sorrow and regret.

My heart cries out, burdened by the weight of my choices and the constant ache of lost love. I stand here, consumed by a bittersweet mix of emotions, longing for solace amidst the tangled mess of my past decisions.