My Wife Trains Me Into the Perfect Husband

After getting into another argument with Marilyn Cortell, I miss out on the chance to see my mother one last time. From then on, I become Marilyn's perfect husband—never possessive, never jealous, and never asking for a divorce. Even when a photo of her and Henry Solon together in bed makes it onto the trending topics online, all I do is tell the media that I hope she gets what she wishes for. However, for once, Marilyn attempts to explain to me without me confronting her about it. I smile and tell her that I understand. "I know that it's all for work. You're only able to get inspiration for your songs when you're with him. I don't mind." Everyone in the industry praises her for training me so well, turning me from an easily jealous man who will go crazy at the very mention of Henry's name to the ideal husband that I am that day. One day, Marilyn gets drunk and initiates intimacy with me. Yet, I push her away and call Henry's number. Snatching the phone from me, she throws it to the ground and snaps, "Why are you pushing me toward another man?" I reply in confusion, "Didn't you tell me previously that you had no inspiration when sleeping with me?" Chapter 1 Marilyn Cortell grabbed at her hair in frustration. "Didn't I already explain to you that what I said back then was in the heat of the moment? Do you seriously have to cling to that matter and refuse to let it go?" Instead of answering, I simply stared at her quietly. At that moment, my phone suddenly rang, causing me to instinctively look down at it. However, Marily seized my hand and cooed in an unusually sweet tone, "Is a phone call more important than me? Could it be that you have another woman on the side?" I suddenly found her words rather ridiculous. "Shouldn't you know just why I'm so anxious when I hear a phone call?" Marilyn was briefly silent. "What happened with your mother was an accident. Neither of us wanted that to happen. Besides, I'm already keeping my distance from Henry now. Still, he and I are in the same band, so…" I finished her sentence in my mind, "So it's impossible for us to not contact each other at all. Can't you be more understanding of my situation?" By now, I had heard this so many times that I could recite her words in my sleep. When I remained calm and unaffected, Marilyn abruptly stopped speaking. She slumped on the couch dejectedly. "Just what do I have to do for you to go back to the Shane Kinsley of before? When you still had emotions and feelings?" The day Mom had passed away, I had gotten into yet another serious row with Marilyn over Henry Solon. Marilyn ended up losing control of her emotions and smashing my phone on the ground. Because of that, the hospital failed to get in contact with me when Mom was on the brink of death. By the time I rushed to the hospital, Mom had already passed away, and I didn't get the chance to see her one last time. The resulting wave of intense guilt had overwhelmed me. That was the turning point for Marilyn. From then on, she assured me that she wouldn't have any contact with Henry outside of work. However, I no longer cared, as I couldn't seem to feel any emotions anymore. It was as though I were completely disconnected from the world. Dragging my mind back to the present, I leveled an indifferent look at Marilyn. "I'm not forcing you to choose between Henry and me, nor do you have to maintain a distance from him. Otherwise, rumors are going to spread of there being discord among you and your bandmates again." As I thought of the time and effort it would take to clear up any scandals, I suggested, "How about you upload a photo of you two together on Twitter right now? Otherwise, the fans are going to wonder why their favorite couple hasn't been uploading anything recently." Marilyn's expression darkened. Previously, she would post intimate photos of her with Henry on Twitter every week. The first time she uploaded a photo of them with their cheeks pressed together intimately, she explained to me that it was at the request of their fans. No matter how loudly I expressed my displeasure, Marilyn simply answered flippantly, "It's all necessary for our career. Don't be so petty." Then came the second time, and the third… By now, Marilyn had posted over 300 photos of her with Henry, yet she still refused to upload anything related to me. Even when I begged her desperately, she absolutely refused to budge. In this whole three-person play, I was the only one who didn't deserve to be named. I calmly repeated my earlier question, causing Marilyn to scowl furiously. She snapped, "Why should I do that? Shane Kinsley, I am your wife! How could you tell me to upload intimate photos of me with another man?" Chapter 2 I blinked in confusion and shot her a bewildered look. "Didn't you say it yourself? It's necessary for your career." Immediately, Marilyn looked like she had been doused with cold water. An expression of utter defeat crossed her face. "Shane, please teach me how we can go back to how we were before?" She cuddled up against my chest. The perfume she wore wafted into my nose, the scent that was once wonderful to me now striking me as cloying and irritating. I said, "Our life is also fine right now, just as it is." She opened her mouth, about to say something, but then her phone rang. "Mari, I'm waiting for you at Blackwater Bridge. I'll jump if you don't come!" Henry's drunken voice blared over the speakers. Marilyn glanced at me hesitantly, her grip on her phone so tight that her fingers had gone pale. I spoke up first. "See? You should've called Henry to come over earlier. Hurry up and go, or the paparazzi are going to have a field day and come up with a nonsensical scandal again." For a moment, Marilyn stared at me, her mouth opening as though she wanted to speak. Ultimately, she hurried out of the house without saying a single word. My gaze drifted to the puffer coat she had left on the couch before I remembered that it was currently below freezing outside. However, unlike in the past, when I would instantly head out to deliver it to her, I simply sighed this time. … It was midnight when Marilyn finally returned, and she had bought me supper. I sat by the dining table, my eyes droopy with sleep. "Shane, Henry got drunk, so I sent him back home. That's all I did, I swear. The other staff members were present for the whole thing, so you can call them if you don't believe me." With that, she fished out her phone and got ready to call the staff members. Right before she could press the call button, I stopped her. "I believe you. There's no need to disturb other people." Before Marilyn could respond, I turned to the spicy stew on the table and said calmly, "I can't take spicy food since I have gastric problems." Marilyn was momentarily surprised before she apologized, her tone filled with guilt. "Sorry, I didn't know. Henry said he wanted to eat this, so I bought you a portion too." It had been several years since I had been diagnosed with gastric problems, yet she was actually saying that she hadn't known? Yet whenever Henry came down with even the slightest cold, she would immediately bring him medicine. Letting out a soft laugh, I shook my head like I was unbothered. "It's fine. I'm not hungry anyway. I'm going to sleep first." However, when I climbed back into bed, I realized I was no longer sleepy. I had first met Marilyn at a bar. Back then, she had been singing on stage, and it had been love at first sight. After getting together with her, I became her manager as though it was the most natural thing in the world. For the sake of getting her work, I spent my days drinking with various investment partners. That was how I ended up with gastric problems. Fortunately, Marilyn ended up exploding with popularity after participating in a singing show. To the general public, she claimed that it was sheer luck that caused her to become famous. It was also that year that we got married and received our marriage certificate. At the time, she had promised me that while she couldn't reveal our relationship to the public, she would definitely not let me down or put me through any suffering. … The next morning, I received a job offer. After glancing through it, I handed my phone over to Marilyn. "This will boost the band's popularity, which is crucial at this point, since you guys are going to release a new song soon." Marilyn took one look and instantly stiffened. Her tone was disbelieving as she said, "You're actually telling me to go on a dating reality show with Henry?" I nodded. "This is work, and it's all just an act. It hasn't been easy for us to get this far, so we shouldn't let our personal feelings affect our careers." Immediately, all the color drained from Marilyn's face. These were the exact words she had told me back when I had gotten into my very first argument with her, when she decided to team up with Henry to do fan service as a couple. Now, I was simply returning the words to her, verbatim. My attitude seemed to wear down what little patience Marilyn had. She answered anxiously, "You're the manager. You decide." With that said, she stared at me intently, as if expecting me to erupt into an argument with her as I had in the past. However, instead of arguing, I merely hummed indifferently, lowered my gaze, and continued eating my breakfast. Right before I was about to head out, Marilyn's nervous voice rang out behind me. "Shane, if I were to retire from the industry—" I interrupted her before she could even finish speaking. "There's no need for that. This is your dream." Chapter 3 The news about Marilyn and Henry joining a dating reality show spread like wildfire. Their fans were ecstatic, happily gushing about how their favorite couple was actually coming true. On the heels of that was slander from their haters, though. They deliberately pointed out that Marilyn hadn't been posting any intimate photos with Henry recently and said that she was, in reality, not on good terms with him. I read all these posts, somewhat exasperated. Just as I was about to clarify things, I received a notification that the official account Marilyn shared with Henry had posted something new. It was a collage of their intimate photos, captioned with the words, "Official announcement." I liked the post, all while feeling grateful that I wouldn't need to rack my brain for a way to clear up the situation. The next second, Marily pushed open the door to my office, her face twisted into a panicked expression. "That upload was just in response to that trending post! Please don't misunderstand." Henry, who had come in behind her, also put on an innocent expression as he said, "Shane, don't misunderstand. Mari and I had no choice but to do that. If it really bothers you that much, I'll delete it immediately." I raised my head to shoot them a bewildered look. "It's fine. There's no need for you to explain. In fact, I even have to thank you two for helping me deal with a troublesome matter." That night, after we returned home, Marilyn sat opposite me with a bottle of red wine. "Shane, we need to talk." I was confused. "What about? There haven't been any major problems at work recently." For a moment, Marilyn was rendered speechless. Back when Henry was the reason we constantly argued, I had also wanted to sit down and have a heart-to-heart talk with Marilyn. However, every single time, she would refuse by saying she was busy with work or had to work on her new song. Now that I no longer cared about what went on between her and Henry, there was nothing to talk about anymore. In the end, the talk never happened either, as Henry had gotten drunk and was, once again, threatening to end his life. Like before, Marilyn forgot her coat and rushed out into the cold once more. Just as I was getting ready to sleep, my phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number, and when I answered, a melodious female voice came over the line. "Hello, my name is Cassandra Sandler." For a second, I was stunned to hear that name. Cassandra Sandler was once a hugely popular singer. However, three years ago, she announced that she was retiring from the industry to pursue her studies. "I plan on making a comeback. Are you interested in becoming my manager?" I was somewhat confused by this, but I honestly told her that I couldn't break my contract because doing so would result in a hefty penalty. "I could pay for your breach of contract, or I could hire a lawyer for you to handle it in court." She had barely finished speaking when I replied, "I'll do it. I look forward to working with you." … After agreeing to work for Cassandra, I began handing over my work responsibilities. The dating reality show Marilyn and Henry were invited to participate in started recording as scheduled. After its first episode aired, it became the most-watched variety show of the day. Because of that, the two of them decided to throw a party to celebrate the achievement. When I received Henry's call, I was busy wiping Mom's gravestone clean. I could hear a group of people jeering on the other end of the line, "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" Right as I was about to hang up, I heard Henry ask, "Mari, I can tell that you don't love Shane anymore. Why are you still forcing yourself?" Marilyn denied it without a second thought, "Stop saying nonsense. I will only ever love Shane in this lifetime." I didn't feel even a hint of happiness at hearing that. In the past, even a simple "I love you" from Marilyn would've left me on cloud nine for some time. "That's not true. Mari, stop lying to yourself. You're always so relaxed when you're with me." Following that, a series of muffled, suggestive sounds drifted over the line. I instantly hung up, then crouched to tell Mom that I was leaving. This wasn't the first time Henry had done something like this. He was the one who had sent me all those photos and videos of them being intimate in bed. When I had confronted Marilyn with those photos, she had broken down and shot back, "What else was I supposed to do? I need inspiration to write my songs, but I don't feel anything when I'm with you!" Because of that, we got into such a serious fight that we nearly ended up divorced. However, just before we could sign the divorce agreement, I took the initiative to apologize to Marilyn. Chapter 4 I had only just returned home from the cemetery when Henry helped a drunk Marilyn into the house. When he spotted me, he quirked a brow and said in a challenging tone, "Mari is exhausted, so I—" I swiftly cut him off before he could finish speaking. "Help her into the room. Her pajamas are in the closet." With that, I took my own pajamas and headed for the bathroom. Once, I drank so much that I ended up with alcohol poisoning. Ever since, even the smell of alcohol has been enough to make me nauseous. Now that there was someone else to take care of Marilyn on my behalf, I was more than happy to let Henry deal with her. When I exited the bathroom, Henry was busy making some honey water. I simply glanced at him before retiring to my bedroom to sleep. The next day, I woke up to find Marilyn sitting in the living room, her face twisted with anxiety and nervousness. "Shane, I had too much to drink last night. Henry was just too worried about me, and that's why he brought me back home. Nothing happened between us." I had been wondering what she wanted to tell me, never expecting this to be it. Twitching my lips into a smile, I replied, "It's fine. I was the one who told him to take care of you last night." A stunned look crossed her face before she asked me in a trembling voice, "Why?" I pinned her with a blank look. "The stench of alcohol makes me sick. Is there anything else? I need to head out already." I needed to head to the company and hand in my resignation letter. Unexpectedly, a phone call from my assistant thoroughly disrupted my plans. "Shane, you, Mari, and Henry are going viral online!" I hurriedly checked Twitter. The number one trending post was of someone revealing that Marilyn had married me years before and that Henry was the homewrecker, the other man who came between us. In the comments section, the netizens were demanding that the company come out and make an official statement about the truth. "Shane, could you post something regarding this matter?" Marilyn asked me hesitantly, a trace of guilt flickering in her eyes. I nodded, completely unbothered at the prospect. "I'll clarify that I'm not in a relationship with you, so don't you—" "No!" She cut me off before I could finish speaking. "Admit that you're the homewrecker here, while Henry and I are the real couple." Her voice grew increasingly soft the more she spoke, and by the end, her words were barely a whisper. I didn't even hesitate to refuse. "I can't do that." "Shane, please, I'm begging you! Even if you clarify things, there's a chance the netizens won't believe it. With how proud Henry is, he definitely won't be able to handle the idle gossip," Marilyn pleaded while tugging on my hand desperately. I opened my mouth to reply, but then my phone began vibrating nonstop. A whole slew of notifications popped up on my phone as people kept tagging me. Seeing that, Marilyn looked away with a guilty expression. When I opened my Twitter, I saw that my account had posted an apology a minute ago. The post went on to claim that I was, in fact, the third person who had come between Henry and Marilyn. The only other person who knew my Twitter account password was Marilyn. As I looked over at her, she pointedly avoided my gaze. "I had no choice but to do that! Really!" As it turned out, she already knew that I wouldn't agree to do it, so her earlier spiel had simply been an act to delay me and stall for time. "Once the hype dies down, I'll clear your name for you." Taking a step back, I answered placidly, "No need." She was about to say something more, but then her phone suddenly rang—the company was calling her in for a meeting. Before leaving the house, she shot me an uneasy look. "Shane, wait for me to come back, okay? We'll have a good, long talk about this then." I didn't answer. After she stepped out, I packed only my clothes and valuables. Then, setting the house key and the divorce agreement on the table, I left. … Meanwhile, Marilyn, who was in the middle of a meeting, suddenly felt as though she had lost something important to her. As the meeting came to an end, the boss' secretary shoved the door open in a panic. "Mr. Leeson, Shane sent you an email." Andy Leeson threw her a curious glance. "It's… It's a resignation letter."