Dropped from Heaven

I gave up a vast fortune to be with my boyfriend Terrence.

In our poorest days, we didn't even have a single grain of rice at home.

Terrence went out to fight in underground rings, never surrendering once even when he was beaten black and blue.

With his blood and sweat, he paved the path to our future brick by brick.

In the present, his name was uttered with an undeniable tone of respect, while I was known far and wide as his missus, the woman he treasured above anyone or anything.

One year, when I left the country because of a family emergency, I learned that he even started seeing a therapist due to separation anxiety. Everyone said that Terrence loved me more than life itself, and I had believed it too, wholeheartedly.

Until I stood on our balcony, watching him tightly embracing another woman in the villa next door.

"Even though Tanya is back, the very thought of losing you makes me lose control… I can't live without you, Mia…

"If any other men ever appear by your side, I might just end up killing them…"

His voice was a low rumble, tinged with a sort of unconscious madness.

"B-But what about your wife? Didn't you say that she means more to you than your own life?"

"Well, we just have to keep this hidden better, don't we? I want to always be with you…"

My hand trembled, and I accidentally cut my hand with the fruit knife I was holding, but I felt no pain at all.

To think that just one year apart was enough to shatter thirty years of love and mutual support…

With trembling hands, I picked up my phone and called my mother.

"Mom, I'm feeling homesick… Can you get me a new identity and a one-way ticket out of the country?"

"You can always come home, sweetheart," my mother replied, as caring as ever.

After I hung up, the memories of the past thirty years played in my mind like an old movie, frame by frame.

Back when we were children, still playing in the mud, he had grabbed my hand and promised to marry me when we grew up.

When I was bullied at school, he took on ten kids by himself, shielding me with his battered body and flashing a cheeky grin through the pain. "Don't be scared! No one will ever bully you again!"

In our rental apartment, he worked nonstop—fighting in underground rings, working part-time, and even selling his blood, before tucking each and every cent he made into my hands with care.

"I'll prove to everyone that you made the right choice by picking me."

Later, after he rose to fame and was revered by many, he adopted the habit of going to auctions and winning bids just to please me.

But now, Mia was the one he couldn't live without.

All those memories that I treasured so dearly became knives, slicing back and forth across my