When Love Turns Cold

He pursued me for seven years and doted on me endlessly. He was the perfect husband in everyone's eyes.

On our wedding anniversary, he knelt at my doorstep and begged me.

Rene, I was drugged. Tara is carrying my child.

I smiled and forgave him, then turned around and signed the divorce papers.

Before leaving, I took one last look at our marital home.

He didn't know I had long ago overheard his whispered conversations with Tara.

"Rene? Just a dead fish in bed. You're so much hotter."

He also didn't know that at this very moment, at the London airport, someone who had waited five years for me was opening his arms wide.

Damien, may you lose everything you love and have all your dreams come true.

Rene's POV

Everyone said Damien Foster loved me more than life itself.

When I was fifteen, he saw me for the first time under the plane trees on Old Street.

He said that with just one glance, he fell deeply in love with me.

For the next seven years, he pursued me, doted on me, and made me the most envied woman in the entire city.

Five years of dating, and we never once fought.

The way he looked at me was always burning with intensity.

But this same Damien betrayed me on our first wedding anniversary.

The first time Damien begged me was because someone had drugged him at a business reception, and he slept with Tara Moore.

Early next morning, he came to my house and knelt at the door, pleading with me.

"Rene, I was wrong. Someone drugged me. I don't even know how it happened with Tara... You can hit me, yell at me, do whatever you want. Just please, please don't leave me."

Before I could say anything, my father burst out with a riding crop in his hand.

That day, my father whipped him a hundred times.

Damien was strung up on the plane tree in the courtyard, his back torn open, blood dripping all over the ground.

He didn't beg for mercy, just kept repeating "I'm sorry" over and over.

I came downstairs and knelt before my father.

"Let's set the wedding date for one month from now."

My father was too angry to speak. My mother hit me twice, crying and calling me a "foolish child."

A month later, the wedding took place as scheduled.

When we exchanged rings, Damien gripped my hand tightly, his eyes red-rimmed.

"Rene, thank you. I will never betray you in this lifetime. If I break this vow, may I lose everything I love!"

I smiled but said nothing.

After the honeymoon, I planned to start trying for a baby and went to the hospital for a checkup, but in the garden I stumbled upon Tara forcefully kissing Damien.

The next second, Damien pushed her away and slapped her across the face.

"Tara, I've already settled accounts with you for that night. If you keep making trouble, I'll make sure your family can't stay in this city!"

He turned and left, his retreating figure resolute.

I stood behind a tree and didn't make a sound.

That night, he was exceptionally passionate-burning embraces and lingering kisses, as if he couldn't wait to fuse me into his very bones.

I thought, at least he only loves me.

But this illusion shattered the very next day.

Tara showed up at our door, clutching a pregnancy test result.

"Damien, I'm pregnant."

Damien froze as if all the strength had been drained from his body.

I watched him take a step forward and pull Tara tightly into his embrace.

"I'm sorry."

His voice was hoarse,

"I'm sorry..."

His apologies were truly worthless.

I thought.

After calming Tara down, Damien knelt before me.

"Rene, I need to ask you for something."

His eyes were rimmed with red.

"Let Tara have the child. You'll always be my only wife. I have no future with her. Once the child is born, we'll send it to the old estate, and she'll have nothing more to do with us. I'm just asking you-please let this innocent child live."

I looked down at him.

He knelt at my feet, his posture as humble as a dog's.

But every word he spoke was asking me to accept another woman's child-a child she bore for him.

Suppressing the sourness welling up inside me, I ignored the panic in his eyes, pulled my hand away, and returned to my room.

I opened my laptop and clicked on an email that had arrived three days ago.

The sender was a world-class data analysis research institute in London. They had been inviting me to take a position overseas since a month ago.

Because I still held out hope for Damien, I had kept refusing.

But now...

I typed a few words and clicked send.

"I accept."

That afternoon, while Damien was at his company, I went to a law firm.

The lawyer was my college roommate. Within an hour, she helped me draft a divorce agreement.

I tucked it into my bag and took it with me to the Moore residence.

Tara was sunbathing in the courtyard. When she saw me arrive, she immediately put on a helpless expression.

"Rene, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, I-"

I cut her off and placed the divorce agreement on the coffee table.

"Get Damien to sign this. You should have a way."

Tara froze for a moment, then dropped the innocent look from her face and curled her lips into a malicious smile.

She picked up the agreement and flipped through it, all trace of vulnerability vanishing from her eyes.

"Rene Sullivan, you should've left a long time ago. If you hadn't swooped in while I was studying abroad, the position of Mrs. Foster would've been mine from the start!"

I wasn't angry.

"Then hurry up. Seven days. I'm giving you seven days. Get this sorted out, and you'll be Mrs. Foster."

Without waiting to see Tara's ugly expression, I turned and went home.

When I got back, I started packing.

We'd only been married for a month, so I didn't have much.

Important documents and certificates went into one box, everyday essentials into another.

I called a courier service and had both boxes shipped to the small apartment I'd bought before the marriage.

After that was done, I looked around at the luxury goods in the house.

During our five years together, Damien had indeed been generous with me.

Dozens of designer bags, a closet full of haute couture, and three full glass display cases of jewelry.

I took photos with my phone and contacted a secondhand dealer. Within two hours, they had cataloged everything and said they'd come pick it up tomorrow.

"Good,"

I replied,

"After you sell everything, donate all the proceeds to an orphanage."

The dealer paused but quickly agreed.

Just as I was about to rest, a commotion erupted downstairs.

I stepped out of my room to see Damien bringing Tara inside, his parents following behind.

His mother held Tara's arm, and when she caught sight of me, she immediately rolled her eyes.

"Damien, you and Rene have been together for five years, and you've been living together for how long now? And still nothing in her belly."

"Thank God Tara got pregnant, or I'd start to think you were the problem."

Damien's expression darkened.

"Stop talking nonsense!"

His father snorted.

"What nonsense? I think your mother's right! Tara was lucky-she only slept with you once and the baby came."

Tara blushed.

"Don't say that..."

Damien pressed his lips together and said nothing.

Listening to them say I couldn't conceive, I remained silent.

After watching them for a while, I turned and went back to my room, pulled out my phone, and sent Tara a message.

"Seven days."

After sending it, I tossed my phone onto the bed and walked to the window.

Outside was his family's garden. When I was fifteen, he had chased me through it, saying he wanted to pick the most beautiful flower for me.

I watched for a long time, until the sunset sank below the horizon.

Seven days would pass quickly.

Rene's POV

Everyone said Damien loved me more than life itself.

But at this moment, the commotion downstairs made me not even want to leave my room.

I had the maid bring dinner upstairs.

There was a knock at the door. I thought it was the maid, but when I opened it, Damien stood there holding a tray.

His eyes were brimming with apology.

"Rene, Tara said her emotions have been sensitive since the pregnancy and she doesn't want to be alone, so she came to the house today... Just for today. I promise I won't let her come again tomorrow."

I took the tray.

"Why don't you just let her move in?"

Damien froze, a flash of panic crossing his face.

"Rene, are you angry? I didn't mean it. I just think the child is innocent, and she's endured so much being pregnant out of wedlock for my sake. I can't be completely irresponsible..."

"I'm not angry."

I cut him off.

"Go on."

I carried the tray back inside. Behind me came a thud.

Damien had dropped to his knees, his eyes reddening.

"Rene, I'm sorry. At that business reception, I had no idea someone would drug her, let alone that I'd pick up the wrong glass. It was all an accident. The only person Damien will ever love in this lifetime is you."

I looked at him and was about to speak.

"Damien!"

Tara's voice came from downstairs.

"My stomach feels a bit uncomfortable. Can you come down for a minute?"

Damien immediately stood up and rushed outside.

He ran quickly, his retreating figure showing no hesitation.

I stood there, staring at the door he'd shut behind him, feeling something lightly slash across my heart.

It didn't hurt.

It was just cold.

After dinner, Damien had the maid inform me that he'd be working late at the office.

I hadn't planned on waiting for him anyway, so I went straight to take a bath.

The bathroom was separated from the guest room next door by only a wall. Tara was staying there tonight.

I'd just turned on the water when I heard strange sounds coming from next door.

I walked to the window and pulled back the curtain.

The night breeze rushed in, and the sounds from next door became clearer.

It was the sound of a man and woman kissing-intimate, sticky, accompanied by muffled panting.

"I'm better than Rene, aren't I?"

Tara's voice was hoarse and cloying.

"Yes, you're so much better."

Damien's voice carried laughter-a flippant tone I'd never heard from him before.

"She's just a dead fish in bed."

In the bathroom, I gripped the windowsill, motionless.

"If she weren't so boring," Damien's voice continued, accompanied by the soft rustle of fabric, "I wouldn't have had to come up with this plan to be with you..."

Tara laughed, her voice even more seductive.

"What, you just wanted to sleep with me? But I'm pregnant now."

Damien laughed too.

"Then have the baby. I'm not short on children."

That light laughter was like a dull blade, sawing at my heart one cut at a time.

Then came more intimate sounds-sounds I should never have heard.

I closed the window and submerged myself in the bathtub.

Hot water covered my shoulders, my chest, my chin.

I closed my eyes and sank completely underwater, and the world instantly went silent.

Only my heartbeat remained, muffled and rhythmic.

After a long while, I surfaced, gasping for air.

I suddenly remembered Damien from our college days.

How pure and innocent he'd been back then.

Every time he stole a kiss, his ears would turn completely red-red to the tips, red down to his neck.

Whenever I teased him on purpose, he'd stand there flustered, looking at me with eyes as bright as an entire galaxy.

"Rene, I'll be good to you for the rest of my life."

That's what he used to say.

I believed him.

But thinking about it now, those words spoiled so quickly.

Only five years.

My purity became a "dead fish" in someone else's mouth. His eyes learned how to lie. His embrace could hold two women at once.

I'd thought he was merely calculated against, that he was at least still a decent person.

But tonight I finally understood.

Damien was even more disgusting than Tara Moore.

At least Tara laid her ambitions out in the open, but Damien treated me like a complete fool!

I stood up from the bathtub, wrapped myself in a robe, and returned to the bedroom.

The sounds from next door still hadn't stopped.

The moonlight outside was cold.

I lay down and closed my eyes.

I hope Tara doesn't disappoint me.

Rene's POV

Early the next morning, I got up.

As I stepped out of the bedroom, I ran right into Tara coming out of the room next door.

She wore a silk robe with a deeply open neckline, the kiss marks on her neck glaringly obvious.

"Rene, good morning."

Tara touched her neck, looking at me smugly.

"Damien told me you're the one who let me stay?"

I looked at her and said nothing.

"You're really so magnanimous,"

Tara took a step forward.

"But I guess that makes sense. You married into the Foster family purely on Damien's affection. Now that he doesn't love you anymore, you don't even have the right to speak in this house."

I looked at her.

"Six days left."

With that, I turned to go downstairs.

Tara, having her face slapped down, immediately looked furious.

The next second, she rushed forward and shoved me hard!

I stumbled, the world spinning. My hands flailed wildly, trying to grab onto something, but caught only air.

My body tumbled down section by section, finally slamming hard onto the floor.

My vision went black, and I knew nothing more.

When I woke again, my nose was filled with the smell of disinfectant.

I opened my eyes. Damien sat at the bedside, holding my hand, his face full of concern.

"Rene, you're finally awake."

He leaned closer, his voice full of relief.

"How could you be so careless? If Tara hadn't found you at the bottom of the stairs and called an ambulance right away, who knows what might have happened!"

I looked at him, my voice very soft.

"That's what Tara said?"

Damien frowned.

"What do you mean? Is there something else?"

I looked away.

"Nothing."

He kissed my fingers.

"The doctor said it's just minor bruising. You can be discharged this afternoon."

I hummed in acknowledgment and closed my eyes, no longer responding to him.

That afternoon after being discharged, Damien suggested taking me out to dinner.

He'd made a reservation at a high-end Western restaurant in the city center.

Just as we sat down, I heard Tara's voice.

I turned around and saw her walk in, accompanied by a fat man.

I recognized him.

Levi Bryant, a notorious lecher.

The moment he saw me, his gaze stuck to me.

Tara came over with a smile, while Lee's eyes never left me.

I frowned.

"Let's go."

"What's wrong?"

Damien poured a glass of water.

"These are all your favorite dishes."

"Damien!"

Tara suddenly approached and placed her hand on Damien's shoulder.

"I suddenly don't feel well."

Damien immediately stood up, putting one arm around her and placing his other hand on her lower abdomen.

"What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, just uncomfortable,"

Tara bit her lip, looking troubled.

"I want you to take me to the hospital, but..."

She glanced at me, then at Levi at the next table.

Damien paused, then turned to look at me.

"Rene, I'm taking her to the hospital."

I stood up, also planning to leave, but he grabbed my wrist.

His gaze was heavy.

"Rene, you help Tara entertain Mr. Bryant."

My eyes widened.

"What?!"

Damien's gaze flickered, but his tone remained firm.

"This business deal Tara's working on is very important-it involves a large investment for her family. If we both leave, she won't be able to explain to them."

"Damien!"

I trembled with anger.

"Do you even know what you're saying!"

I couldn't believe he hadn't seen Levi's disgusting gaze! If I stayed tonight, who knew what would happen?

Damien gripped my wrist tighter and tighter.

"But-"

"Damien,"

Tara's face went paler, her voice as weak as cotton.

"I don't feel well."

Just then, Levi also walked over, his gaze lewdly scanning me.

"Mr. Foster, Miss Moore, what's going on here?"

Damien's fingers dug into my hand as he looked at Levi.

"Mr. Bryant, Tara isn't feeling well. I need to take her to see a doctor. But regarding this collaboration, the Moore family is completely sincere. Even though Tara has to leave... I'll have my wife entertain you."

Then he turned to look at me, his gaze heavy.

"Rene, you're Mrs. Foster. You need to consider the bigger picture."

My whole body went cold, and as I looked at him, it felt like I was truly seeing this man for the first time.

Damien walked out with Tara in his arms. After a few steps, he stopped, turned back, and said to me,

"Come home as soon as you finish signing. It'll be quick."

Then he left.

Levi immediately laughed loudly.

"Mrs. Foster, come, let's talk business."

He pulled a chair right next to me and put his hand on my leg.

"Mr. Foster left you here himself. What are you being coy about?"

I stood to leave, but Levi grabbed me and pulled me into his embrace.

The pungent smell of alcohol mixed with bad breath hit me full in the face. My stomach churned.

His hand was already on my waist, reaching inside my clothes.

I panicked, grabbed the wine bottle from the table, and smashed it hard against his head!

The bottle shattered. Red wine mixed with blood streamed down his face.

He clutched his head and screamed, staggering backward.

I threw down the broken bottle neck, shoved the door open, and strode out.

Outside the restaurant, the night wind hit my face.

I stood by the roadside, my hands still shaking.

I pulled out my phone and made a call.

After two rings, it was answered.

"Mom,"

I spoke, my voice surprisingly calm.

"Where's Dad? Tell him that next week, I'm coming home."

On the other end, my mother paused for a moment, then choked up.

"Good, good. Mom will be waiting for you."

Only six days left.

Rene's POV

When I returned home, it was nearly midnight.

Only a dim floor lamp remained lit in the living room. Damien had just come out of the guest room, gently closing the door behind him.

When he saw me, his first words were:

"Did you sign the contract?"

I stood in the entryway, looking at him.

He didn't ask if I was hurt, didn't ask if Levi had done anything to me-only asked about the contract.

"Rene?"

He walked over.

"What did Mr. Bryant say?"

I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face.

Damien's head snapped to the side. He froze for two seconds before reacting.

"I..."

He opened his mouth, seeming to realize he'd said the wrong thing.

"I'm sorry, Rene. I didn't mean it that way. I was just worried about the business..."

I ignored him, went straight upstairs, and returned to the master bedroom.

Damien came to the door and knocked. I didn't respond.

He was silent for a while, then said softly, "I'm sorry."

I stood by the window, letting tears stream down my face.

Rene, you're such a fool.

Ten years of acquaintance, five years of dating, one year of marriage.

And you couldn't even tell who was human and who was a demon.

The next morning, as soon as I came downstairs, Damien grabbed my wrist.

He used considerable force, dragging me toward the living room.

On the sofa, Tara was covering her face with a tissue, sobbing. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying.

"Kneel."

Damien pressed down on my shoulder, forcing me down in front of Tara.

I looked up at him.

"Look what you did last night!"

His face was iron-dark.

"Mr. Bryant called this morning to cancel the collaboration. Do you know how long Tara worked on that project? You ruined everything!"

I tried to stand, but received a hard slap across the face.

My head snapped to the side, blood seeping from the corner of my mouth.

"Damien!"

Tara cried out and stood up.

"Don't blame Rene. It's my fault. I shouldn't have given her such an important responsibility..."

She moved as if to leave, but Damien stopped her.

"You're not going anywhere."

He pressed her back down on the sofa, then looked at me.

His expression was complex-apologetic, reluctant, but more than anything, resolute.

"When your parents went abroad, they left you three villas."

He spoke, his voice flat.

"Transfer the properties to Tara. Consider it compensation for her loss."

I was stunned.

"What did you say?"

Damien's Adam's apple bobbed as he looked away.

"The loss you caused last night was too great. Even if those three villas were sold, they'd only be worth about two hundred million. Not even enough to cover it."

"Fine."

I cut him off.

Damien froze and looked back at me.

I stood up, wiped the blood from my mouth, and turned to go upstairs.

I walked steadily, step by step, my spine perfectly straight.

Back in my room, I closed the door, took out my phone, and made a call.

It was answered quickly, the voice low.

"What's wrong?"

"Hello."

I leaned against the door.

"I can't keep those three properties. Have the lawyer initiate asset protection procedures."

The other end was silent for two seconds.

"Did he hit you?"

I didn't answer.

"I understand."

The voice on the other end turned cold.

"All procedures will be completed within three days. Rene, how many more days until you come home?"

"Five days."

"Good."

There was a pause.

"I'm waiting for you."

Downstairs, Tara's crying and Damien's soft consolations drifted up intermittently-too muffled through the door to hear clearly.

I looked out the window at the plane tree. When I first came to the Foster house at fifteen, it was already there.

In the year since our marriage, it wasn't that I hadn't noticed his changes.

I just never imagined a person could turn bad so decisively, so quickly, so thoroughly.

I found the transaction contracts for the three properties and placed them on the shelf outside my door, then returned to the bedroom.

Soon footsteps came upstairs, pausing outside my door for a few seconds-probably to check the contracts.

Then came the sound of footsteps going back down.

Five more days.

Then I could leave him.