sacrificed to a system designed to make me the "perfect wife." My only directive: ensure his happiness. So
kitchen floor after she staged an attack, blaming me. He didn' t even look at my foot, deeply sliced open b
when he saw them, his rage collapsed into a primal panic. "I wanted you obedient, not a heartless robot! Is this your re
sn' t grief-stricken; it was pure relief. "The problem is solved. We can finally be happy." The system, unable
affection meter, dormant for years, soared. He begged me to stay, promising a new life. But a broken vase, once glued, alway