Chapter 1

Three years into our marriage, my wife grew sick of me.

It took her only three years to stop seeing me as her bright, warm golden retriever and start treating me like an unhinged, rabid stray.

When she hurled her designer bag right at my face again, the cold metal zipper slashed the outer corner of my eye.

I suddenly burst out laughing. Looking right at her, I said,

"That's it, Wendy. I'm done. I want a divorce."

She froze. It took her a long moment to scoff coldly and brush it off:

"Whatever. Suit yourself."

A year later, I was lounging on a sun-drenched beach, my arm wrapped around my gorgeous new girlfriend.

Wendy, however, showed up looking like a disheveled mess, dropping to her knees and begging through tears for me to take her back.

Carrying the fresh bakery cake and bouquet of flowers I had just picked up, I stood outside our front door. Just as I slipped my key into the lock, Wendy’s voice drifted through the wood, chatting with her friends.

"Honestly, Wendy, you really got the best deal out of all of us. Your husband is young, totally obsessed with you, and caters to your every whim."

"Right? You casually mentioned craving that cake from that old shop near our high school, and he literally rushed out to get it without a second thought. Our high school is easily fifteen miles away from here. He treats you so damn well."

I grinned, leaning in a little closer, practically pressing my ear to the door just to hear better.

I waited for her sweet words of praise or agreement.

Instead, all I got was an ambiguous, cold scoff, followed by a dismissive drawl:

"Him? He's just... okay."

The chill in her tone swept through me like an icy gust of wind. In an instant, I felt as if I had been pulled straight out of freezing water, shivering down to my bones.

No. This wasn’t right.

We had been married for three years, and our relationship had always been rock solid.

I didn’t deserve such a casual, almost mocking brush-off.

"Wait, really? He’s amazing to you! Wendy, what else could you possibly want?" her friend asked, sounding confused.

That was the exact question burning in my chest.

All it took was one word from her, and I would drive across the entire city just to pick up a pastry she offhandedly mentioned.

If she liked a piece of jewelry, it would be sitting on her vanity the next morning.

Whenever she wanted to travel somewhere, I gave her my full support—whether that meant funding the trip or clearing my schedule to be by her side...

Over the past three years, my conscience was completely clear.

I just wanted to know: what had I done wrong to make her so dissatisfied?

After a long pause, her voice came through again.

"He's fine, but he's just too childish. You know how younger guys are. Immature, clingy. It was cute in the beginning, but after a while, you just get sick of it."

The living room fell quiet for a second before erupting into giggles again.

"Totally get it. You're drop-dead gorgeous, Wendy. You could have anyone you want. It's been three years—it's totally normal to get bored."

"Exactly! Oh, by the way, have you heard? That guy from high school is back in town. He was asking me about you recently, begging for your Snap. Should I give it to him or what..."

Wendy's voice cut through the chatter, ringing crystal clear in my ears.

She chuckled softly and replied,

"I know. He already reached out to me."

"Holy crap! That's Julian Vance! The ultimate campus heartthrob, the straight-A genius... You really had him wrapped around your finger back then..."

The chatter and laughter behind the door carried on, but my heart plunged straight into an abyss. I couldn't stop shaking.

So three whole years of my devotion boiled down to nothing more than: He's just okay.

Turns out, you don't even need the seven-year itch to grow completely sick of someone.

And the real reason... was because he was back.

Julian Vance. Wendy’s first love. Her untouchable white moonlight.