Chapter 2

The ring left a bloody scratch on Tristan's face before rolling to Willow's feet.

Tristan touched the cut on his face and let out a cold laugh. "Victoria, have I been too lenient with you? I give you a ring and you throw it back in my face? Let me tell you, if you don't want it, plenty of people are begging for it. Don't be ungrateful."

Willow gasped and picked up the ring from the floor. "Victoria, this was a gift from Tristan's heart. How could you just throw it away like that?"

Though her words sounded regretful, the disgust in her expression was impossible to hide. She even deliberately waved the hand wearing her massive diamond, as if afraid I wouldn't notice. My tiny diamond looked even more pathetic next to hers.

Facing her blatant provocation, I no longer felt the urge to fight with her like I used to.

"Sorry, I don't have a habit of collecting garbage. I can't accept this ring."

Tristan stared at me, then suddenly smiled with a knowing look. "You're jealous, aren't you? It's time you got over this petty habit. Willow just landed a major deal for the company. This is just a gift to reward her. You stay home doing nothing all day—do you deserve to wear something that big? You should be grateful for what you get."

Listening to his accusations, I felt like laughing.

He seemed to have forgotten that eight years ago when he was just starting his business, I was the one drinking at corporate events until I had a bleeding ulcer, securing deal after deal, helping the company get on track.

He was also the one who later held me and said we were both too busy with work and the house felt cold without warmth.

So I left the company to focus on being the woman behind him, managing everything at home.

Now it had become his ammunition to belittle me.

"I don't need your charity."

Seeing my attitude unchanged, Tristan laughed bitterly. "Fine. If you don't want it, don't come begging me later."

With that, he snatched the ring from Willow's hand and hurled it away.

Along with my eight years of devotion and love, it disappeared into the darkness.

Tristan put his arm around Willow and drove off.

When I got home, the table still held the cake and candlelight dinner I'd prepared for our eighth anniversary.

I had planned to celebrate our eighth year together with Tristan tonight, but now it seemed pointless.

I took a bite of cake. Being left out at room temperature had made the frosting sticky and the taste sour.

I grimaced and spit it out, then dumped everything on the table into the trash.

There's no point forcing yourself to eat spoiled food.

The same goes for spoiled love.