Perfect Until I Disappeared

After my mission failed, I linked myself to the Perfect Partner Program and became Gloria's perfect husband.

When rumors about her and Damian blew up, I stepped in and shut them down.

When Damian framed me and Gloria said nothing, I rushed to take the blame and apologize.

Even after she got pregnant with Damian's child, I didn't fight. Didn't make a scene.

I just signed the divorce papers and handed Damian the title of "husband."

But she wasn't happy.

She shoved me onto the bed, anger burning in her eyes.

"Mason, I told you to behave. I didn't tell you to push me away. Are you blaming me now?"

I went still, staring up at the woman above me.

"Isn't this what you wanted?"

When Gloria Lawton walked in, she smelled like some other guy's cologne.

She was smiling at her phone, recording a voice message.

"Be good, okay? Listen to me."

I was on the couch watching TV. The second she saw me, her face went cold. The warmth in her voice vanished.

"Why are you still awake?"

I nodded toward the TV.

"This."

On the screen, I was surrounded by a swarm of reporters, microphones practically shoved in my face.

"Mr. Moore, did you see what was blowing up online yesterday? Are the rumors true? Is your wife having an affair with rising actor Damian Keane?"

"Your wife was spotted meeting Damian Keane late at night. Any comment?"

...

Yesterday, footage of Gloria and Damian showing up together at a charity gala had blown up online.

In the video, Damian was wearing a red suit while Gloria held onto his arm, glowing beside him in the crowd.

But Gloria supposedly hated guys wearing red.

Back then, she'd cleaned every red thing out of my closet.

"What kind of guy wears red? Don't embarrass me in public."

She hated smoking too. Said the smell made her sick.

In our five years of marriage, I never touched a cigarette again.

But Damian took a drag, blew the smoke out slowly, then leaned in and brushed a kiss against the corner of her lips. The two of them looked way too close.

And the wedding ring I'd spent five years trying to get Gloria to wear—

In the video, their fingers were laced together. One big hand, one smaller hand. Matching rings caught the light on their fingers.

That's when it hit me.

It wasn't that she hated red.

It wasn't that she hated guys who smoked.

And it wasn't that she didn't want to wear a ring.

It was because the person standing in front of her, asking those things from her... was me.

She didn't love me.

I sat there all night in a daze before accepting the system's offer and linking myself to the Perfect Partner Program.

Back when we used to fight, Gloria always said I was jealous, clingy, immature—the kind of husband she never wanted.

After the binding, I'd put her first in everything. Give