ir. One moment, my world was the thunder of hooves, the grit of dirt in my mouth, and a final, crushing wei

th on the small wooden table. The flickering candlelight cast long, dancing shadows on the walls. This was my wedding chamb

e of desperate, unreturned love for the man who was now my husband. A life of being pushed aside, humil

lt alien on my body. I wasn't the broken, middle-aged woman who died in

Shen Huaiyu. My husband. In the dim light, his face was as handsome and as cold as I remembered. He w

"You're still awake," he said, his voice flat and devoid

t aching with a love he never wanted. Now, I just stared at him, my mind a wh

. "Don't think that because you married into my family, you are something special. You

hat could I say? That I had already lived this life and watch

? Did you expect a loving husband? You should have known your place. A woman like you should be gra

mine is not feeling well tonight. She is more delicate than you. You should lea

The architect of so much of my pain. The woman who had whispered

his outer robe and tossing it carelessly onto a chair. He lay down on the fa

ore it could even form. This was not a second chance at love. It was a second chance to live. To escape him, to escape Jasmine, and most importantly, to p