Flames of Regret

My husband's true love and I are trapped when a fire breaks out. He's a firefighter—when he arrives on scene, he chooses to save her without hesitation.

I barely make it out alive. Once I do, I demand a divorce.

He doesn't understand why. He asks, "Why do you want to divorce me? Because I didn't save you first?"

I angrily throw the divorce agreement in his face. "Yes, that's exactly why! Because you chose to save your old flame when she was further from you!"

Lying in a hospital bed, I brought up divorce to Benedict Langley.

Rubbing his temples in exhaustion, he sounded impatient. "I was up all night dealing with the fire in Norham and just lay down to rest, yet you drag me here for this? Is this some kind of joke?"

Ignoring his irritation, I coldly took out the divorce papers. "I'm not joking. Let's get divorced. You bought the house in full before marriage—I'm not asking for it. The car is mine, so I'll take it. As for the money we earned after marriage, we split it 50-50. You don't have any objections, do you?"

Seeing that I wasn't joking, Benedict finally took me seriously. "Why are you divorcing me? Is it because I saved Cece first?

At those words, the fury I had been suppressing finally erupted.

Benedict was a firefighter.

A week ago, I ran into Celestine Aldridge at the supermarket while shopping. Back then, I naively thought she and Benedict were nothing more than former classmates, so I stopped to chat with her for a bit.

But out of nowhere, the supermarket caught fire. The blaze spread rapidly. Before we could escape, flames had already surrounded us.

I didn't know how long it took, but when we were barely conscious, the firefighters finally arrived.

By some cruel twist of fate, the one who reached us first was Benedict. Yet he didn't even spare me a glance before picking up Celestine.

I thought he hadn't seen me. Desperate, I clung to the hem of his uniform as he passed.

With barely a breath left, I pleaded with him, "Benedict… Please, save me."

But without hesitation, he kicked my hand away.

"Cece is about to collapse—I have to get her out first. I'll come back for you later."

With that, he rushed out, carrying Celestine in his arms.

Through the flickering flames, I could have sworn I saw Celestine smirk at me in triumph.

At that moment, I suddenly recalled what Benedict's mother, Genevieve Marlowe, had once said—he had a high school sweetheart.

So, Celestine was the woman he could never let go of.

God knew how much I broke down at that moment. My own husband had left me to die while saving his first love. For a while, I really thought I wouldn't make it out of that fire alive.

And now that I had miraculously survived, he had the nerve to act as if my reason for divorce was ridiculous?