Melody was discharged yesterday? Why didn't he know about this?

"Who are you to her?" the nurse asked, noticing his reaction and pressing further.

"I'm her husband," Christopher mumbled.

The nurse frowned, eyeing him with suspicion. "You're her husband? How could you not know she was discharged?" she asked.

He remained silent, his gaze vacant, his mind blank. After a few moments of stunned silence, he suddenly returned to reality and rushed downstairs. If Melody had been discharged yesterday morning, why hadn't she gone home? Where did she take her blankets and pillows? Did she know someone else in this city? Had she gone to rent a place?

But she hadn't worked in two years. Where would she get the money to rent a place? Did Daniel give it to her? No. Maybe she had moved in with that Mr. Zeller.

The thought hit him like a bolt of lightning. Panic surged into his chest, twisting into madness as jealousy and rage multiplied. He slammed his foot on the gas pedal, nearly speeding.

When he returned to the house, he went straight to the small guest room and opened the wardrobe. It was empty. This room had never had much furniture—just a bedside table and two closets—but now, in his furious state, he lost control. He pulled out his phone and dialed Melody's number.

The cold, mechanical voice on the other end continued its message. He quickly texted her, but a red exclamation mark popped up as soon as he hit send. Melody had deleted him.

"Melody!" Christopher ground his teeth, growling the name, and then quickly added her as a friend again. His head was spinning with anger. He sat on the bed, his hands clutching his head, waiting for her to accept the request. If there had been a mirror, he would have seen his eyes bloodshot with rage.

But no matter how long he waited, she never accepted his request. Frustrated, he sent multiple verification messages. He glanced at the bedside table, where the drawer was closed. He reached over and pulled it open. He had hoped to find something left behind by Melody to prove she would come back, but instead, he found a few sheets of paper.

When he picked them up, the large words printed on them stabbed into his eyes. It read, "Divorce Agreement."

"Melody, you've got guts!" Christopher's anger exploded, and he stood up, enraged. He had thought that her mention of divorce a month ago had just been a joke, but now, the agreement was right in his hands.

"Don't think you can divorce me! You've spent all this effort manipulating things, right? I'll show you what it means to enter easily but exit harshly. You've brought this upon yourself. You'll have to kneel for decades for me to agree!"

He ripped the thin pages apart, and the pieces scattered to the floor. A twisted smile crept across his face as he stared at the shredded divorce agreement. He wasn't going to sign it. Melody would never get her way.

But just as the thought crossed his mind, a small piece of paper caught his attention. Christopher crouched down to pick it up. On it was Melody's signature. That was fine, but the other half of the paper was his signature.

His eyes widened in shock. He couldn't believe it. He placed the torn pieces together and turned on the room light to examine it closely. It was unmistakably his handwriting. The world seemed to collapse around him. He collapsed to the floor, his rage turning into shock, disbelief, and confusion, and his mind suddenly went blank.