After I'm Cured of Obsession, My Wife Snaps

For the 999th time, the system in my head issues a warning: [Warning! Your infatuation level has exceeded the safe limit! If you do not leave Eleanor Hayes within one hour, you will be erased!] I look up to find my CEO wife, Eleanor, standing protectively in front of her secretary, Charles Beaumont, in the hospital. He has falsely accused me of stealing his paintings, and she believes him without question. Right in front of me, she slashes the paintings I have spent three years creating and then orders me to apologize to Charles. "You stole Charles' paintings in the first place," she says coldly. "Everything I've done is to make it up to him. All you have to do is apologize. What's so hard about that?" I stare at her in silence as she shields Charles from me. I take a last glance at the paintings I have spent three years creating, then calmly speak to the system in my head. "If this obsession with her is what's causing the problem, then I want the highest level of authorization. Remove all the love I have for her. Immediately." The system replies, "Authorization request received." One hour later, I am cleared to leave the hospital. Eleanor is waiting outside. The moment she sees me, she blocks the door and grabs me, her eyes burning with anger. "Daniel, what kind of game are you playing now?" I look at her calmly. There is none of the anger, hurt, or love I once would have felt. Then I say evenly, "Ma'am, you've unlawfully assaulted me. Would you like me to call the police?" Chapter 1 "Enough! Daniel Whitaker, are you ever going to stop?" Eleanor Hayes' face was livid with rage as she swept my belongings onto the floor. "Daniel, how many times do I have to explain this? I don't want you wasting all your time painting. You have no talent for it, and no one is ever going to appreciate your work!" She reached for my arm, but I calmly stepped out of her grasp. "According to my calculations and consultations with several industry professionals, my paintings are valued at a minimum of one million dollars each. The painting you just ruined was estimated to be worth 1.3 million." The disbelief on Eleanor's face made it clear that she didn't believe me, so I called the person in charge of the upcoming art exhibition and had them confirm the valuation. Facts, after all, were not a matter of opinion. Instead of convincing her, however, the confirmation only darkened her expression. "A minimum of one million dollars? You really have some nerve!" she snapped. "In all of Harbor City, who besides me would ever want your paintings?" She stepped closer, her voice rising. "Put your paintings on display, and all people will do is point fingers and remind everyone that you're a thief who stole Charles' work." Then she grabbed me by the shoulders and forced me to look directly at her. "I'm trying to protect you, Daniel! I'm trying to keep you from embarrassing yourself by painting!" Her grip tightened until the pressure became painful, but I simply tilted my head and studied her. I noted the tension in her expression, the changes in her voice, and the rapid escalation of her emotions as though I were analyzing a set of data. "Based on your facial microexpressions and vocal frequency, you're experiencing an episode of impotent rage," I said matter-of-factly. "I recommend that you calm down." Eleanor froze. She opened her mouth as if she had another argument ready, but the moment her eyes met my cold, emotionless gaze, whatever she intended to say seemed to vanish. Her brows slowly drew together as she stared at me, confusion replacing the anger on her face. When she finally spoke, her voice was quieter. "Why does it feel like you're… different?" Before I left, my gaze briefly fell on the food container in Eleanor's hand—the one Charles Beaumont had brought for her. She noticed immediately. In the past, seeing anything connected to Charles around her would have been enough to send me into a jealous rage. Judging by the faint anticipation in her eyes, I suspected she was waiting for me to react the same way this time. Instead, I calmly said, "Ms. Hayes, you're supposed to be fasting before your minor surgery. I wouldn't recommend eating that just yet. Consider it a friendly warning." Chapter 2 I didn't bother with the person still standing there in a daze. I simply turned around, walked out, and got into the car waiting to take me home. I never expected to open the front door and find Charles sprawled across my couch, casually wearing my pajamas and drinking coffee as if he owned the place. The moment he saw me, he deliberately loosened his grip on the mug and let it slip from his hand, his face feigning surprise. The clay mug Eleanor and I had made together hit the floor and shattered. Charles covered his mouth in mock horror. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to." Then, as if by accident, he lifted his foot and knocked the framed photographs of Eleanor and me off the table. One after another, they crashed to the floor. He didn't even bother stepping around the broken glass as he walked toward me, deliberately crushing the shattered photographs beneath his shoes. He clicked his tongue and smirked. "Daniel, you must be furious, huh? But what can you do? Ella just happens to be hopelessly in love with me. It's not like destroying a few worthless things matters. If anything, she probably wouldn't even care if I—" The rapid clicking of my phone camera cut him off, instantly wiping the smug look from his face. I lowered my gaze and scrolled through the photos I had just taken before looking back at him. The smugness vanished from his face, replaced by unmistakable shock. "You intentionally destroyed someone else's property," I said calmly. "The total value is approximately 58 thousand dollars. You can transfer the money to me, or I can file a police report. The choice is yours." Before Charles could respond, the front door opened. Eleanor had just returned from the hospital and had apparently heard every word. The moment Charles saw her, guilt flashed across his face. He hurried over to her and began explaining. "I was just trying to wipe the dust off them. I didn't mean to damage anything. I accidentally knocked the pictures over." Instead of getting angry, Eleanor seemed relieved. She glanced at the broken photographs and waved them off. "What's done is done. We can always take new pictures. It's nothing serious, and I'm sure Daniel wouldn't hold something like this against you." She turned to me with a confident smile, clearly expecting me to back down. My expression didn't change, but my fingers were already moving across my phone as I filed the police report. Eleanor's smile only grew, as if my silence confirmed what she already believed. To her, this was just another jealous tantrum. "Daniel, you can drop the act now," she said, walking toward the drawer beside her. "I know you've been throwing a fit on purpose this whole time." She pulled the drawer open, revealing every piece of jewelry I had given her over the years, each one carefully preserved and labeled with the memory behind it. Her expression softened with certainty. "See? You still care about these things. You're just trying to get my attention." I said nothing. Instead, I reached into the drawer, gathered every piece of jewelry inside, and placed them in her arms. "Take them." Eleanor froze "In exchange, I want a 30 percent stake in Project Starlight, your company's core project. Consider it compensation for the five years of my marriage that I invested in you." The room fell silent. Even Charles stared at me as though I had lost my mind. In their eyes, I had always been the lovesick fool who would choose Eleanor over money, power, and everything else. They had never seen this version of me—the man standing before them without a trace of sentiment. The smile finally disappeared from Eleanor's face. She gritted her teeth and stared at me in disbelief. "You want a share in my company? You've lost your mind." I gave her a faint smile. It was the first real emotion I had shown since leaving the hospital, but there was nothing warm behind it—only cold, absolute rationality. "Then, Ms. Hayes, I'll see you in court." After Eleanor and Charles stormed out, the house fell silent, leaving me alone in the empty room. I stood in front of the drawer filled with notes of all shapes and sizes, staring at them for a long moment before reaching in and picking up one of the yellowed scraps of paper at random. The edges were worn and faded, bearing the unmistakable marks of years gone by. [July 2. Eleanor said blue gemstones look best on her. She mentioned wanting the Star of the Ocean and said she'd love to wear it to an event with me someday. So I worked my ass off and bought it for her. I hope she likes it.] [September 13. Eleanor told me her favorite croissant shop had closed down. What a shame. I guess I'll never get to eat their croissants again.] [September 18. That idiot, Eleanor, secretly learned how to make croissants for me. She's so hopelessly clumsy that she burned both her hands and ended up with several blisters. I don't think I ever want to eat another croissant again.] Chapter 3 There were countless notes like these, filling the drawer from top to bottom. I stared at the words in silence, each one a small record of a life I had once treasured—the things she had said, the things she had wanted, and all the ridiculous little ways I had tried to make her happy. Together, they held years of memories I had once believed would last forever. Then the drawer slid shut. At the same moment, the room seemed to grow darker. The next day, I showed up at Eleanor's company with my lawyer and asked to see her. Just as expected, I was immediately turned away. I didn't argue. I simply waved a hand, and someone brought me a lounge chair. I sat down, put on my sunglasses, and started playing the recording of our conversation about the company shares from the day before. I set it on repeat and let it play over and over for everyone in the lobby to hear. Eleanor and I had founded this company together. The shares I was asking for weren't some outrageous demand. They were what I was rightfully entitled to. The company's executives exchanged uneasy glances as the recording continued to play. By the eighth time it came around, Eleanor finally emerged from the building. She grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me into her office before shoving me inside, her eyes burning with anger. "Daniel, what the hell are you trying to do?" I took off my sunglasses and frowned slightly. "Exactly what I've been saying from the beginning: I want the shares, and I want a divorce. Ms. Hayes, I have to say, your lack of reading comprehension is concerning." Instead of getting angry, Eleanor lowered her head and laughed. When she looked back at me, her eyes were filled with open mockery. "Daniel, if you're trying to win me back, couldn't you come up with something a little more original?" Her reaction wasn't surprising. The last time Charles had a high fever, I'd threatened her with divorce just to get her to come home. The time before that, Charles had done nothing more than sprain his ankle, yet I'd acted like a madman, refusing to let it go simply because she had driven him home. Both times, it had ended the same way: I'd eventually lowered my head, apologized, and backed down. "Have you ever heard the story about the boy who cried wolf?" I stepped back as she leaned closer. "Don't want to choose? Fine." I gave her a cold smile. "I believe tonight is your birthday party. So, I'll give you a gift you've been dreaming about for a long time." This time, Eleanor didn't try to stop me from leaving. Instead, she stood beside the bookshelf with her arms crossed, looking completely confident in herself. Then she picked up the phone resting nearby. The call was still connected. "You heard that, right? Daniel still has feelings for me. He even remembered my birthday and prepared a gift. He was just throwing a tantrum." A man's voice came through the phone, but Eleanor cut him off before he could respond. "And don't give me that nonsense about some system somehow mechanically removing his feelings for me. That's not even scientifically possible. How could Daniel just stop loving me like that?" A helpless sigh came from the other end. After a long silence, the man finally said, "Eleanor, don't take this too far. I heard what she said about me throwing a tantrum, but I didn't slow my steps as I walked away. Instead, the corners of my mouth curled into a faint smile. I just hoped she'd be able to stay that calm when she saw the gift. … Eleanor's birthday party that evening was extravagant, drawing the city's elite under one roof. The moment I stepped into the ballroom, I spotted Charles in a black tuxedo, carrying himself like the man of the house as he moved effortlessly through the crowd, a glass of red wine in his right hand. The moment the guests noticed me, their expressions shifted. One by one, their eyes flicked between Charles and me, curiosity written plainly across their faces. Ignoring the stares, I walked straight toward Eleanor and held out an exquisitely wrapped gift box. She had been lost in thought, but she seemed to sense my presence and looked up. Our eyes met, and for a brief moment, I caught a flicker of nervousness in her gaze. Then she noticed the gift in my hands, and something changed. A faint trace of anticipation appeared in her eyes—an expression she didn't seem to realize she'd revealed. Before either of us could say a word, Charles let out a quiet scoff, just loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. Chapter 4 "People who come to wish Ella a happy birthday bring gifts that money can't even buy. And you, Daniel, have to use Eleanor's credit card just to buy her a thousand-dollar purse. Honestly, it's the thought that counts, so why do you have to buy something so expensive?" Charles might as well have pointed a finger in my face and called me a worthless parasite who could only survive by clinging to a woman. In his eyes, what could someone like me possibly give Eleanor? And whatever I spent on her would still be her money in the end anyway. The people around us immediately sided with him. Their judgment shifted in an instant, and the curious looks they'd been giving me turned into open contempt. It was as if Charles had just reminded everyone exactly where they thought I belonged. My expression didn't change as I watched Eleanor slowly unwrap the gift. When she pulled away the final ribbon and opened the box, the contents were revealed. The noisy ballroom fell completely silent. As if I hadn't noticed the sudden shift in the atmosphere, I smiled and began to applaud. "Happy birthday, Eleanor. Sign it. I bet this is the best gift you'll get tonight." There was no birthday present inside. Instead, neatly folded within the box was a document—a divorce agreement, already bearing my signature. The entire ballroom erupted in shock. Whatever excitement Eleanor had felt while opening the gift vanished in an instant. Her face darkened, her expression turning frighteningly cold as the room filled with laughter and whispers. Everyone seemed ready to mock me for throwing away the life I'd been given and bringing this disaster upon myself. Then, without warning, Eleanor tore the divorce agreement to pieces. She flung the scraps into the air, and they drifted down around her like snow. All the anger she'd been holding inside finally broke free in a low, furious growl. "Dream on! Daniel, in this life, you're always going to be my husband—even in death!" For a moment, even I stood frozen. I'd never seen Eleanor like this before. I quickly searched through everything the system had recorded about her, but I couldn't find a single explanation that matched her behavior. She looked fragile and furious at the same time, as if one spark was all it would take to set her completely ablaze. The ballroom fell deathly silent. Eleanor seemed to realize she'd lost control, and for a moment, she stood there trying to compose herself. But the instant her eyes met my emotionless gaze, whatever composure she'd managed to regain vanished. Ignoring the stunned guests around us, she grabbed my arm and dragged me into the bedroom. The moment we were alone, all the vulnerability she'd been desperately trying to hide came spilling out. "Didn't we promise we'd never leave each other? You loved me so much. How could you just stop loving me?" She buried her face against my neck, her hot breath mingling with the scalding tears running down my skin. The sensation tickled, and for some reason, it irritated me even more. The system's analysis had already confirmed that her breakdown wasn't an act. She was genuinely falling apart. "We? We ended a long time ago." My voice remained calm. "The moment you openly cheated on me and brought Charles home, I told you again and again that we were over. You just never believed me." As I spoke, I pulled out a tissue and irritably wiped the tears from my neck. The simple gesture visibly crushed Eleanor. She stumbled backward several steps, staring at me as though she'd just been struck. "We weren't together for five days or five months. We were together for five whole years!" Her voice trembled. "How can you be so cruel? How can you just forget everything?" My expression remained indifferent. "Ms. Hayes, I'll admit that I used to be completely obsessed with you. But you know that was in the past." I paused and pointed to my chest. "The love I had for you is gone now. And I suppose I should thank you for that. Otherwise, I never would have realized that loving you was nothing more than a failed piece of data that needed to be deleted." Those words shattered whatever remained of Eleanor's emotional defenses. After a brief moment of stunned silence, Eleanor suddenly lifted her head. The pleading in her eyes disappeared, replaced by a surge of fury and dark, wounded humiliation. "Daniel, who the hell are you putting on this act for? How could you possibly not love me? Do you really think I can't live without you?" Her voice grew louder with every word. "I'll prove you wrong. I'll be even better off without you!" Then she screamed, "You want a divorce? Not a chance!" She grabbed an invitation from the table and hurled it into my arms. "Three days from now is my engagement party with Charles. You'd better be there." Each word came slowly, deliberately, like a knife twisting deeper into a wound. Her eyes stayed fixed on mine, desperately searching my face for even the slightest trace of heartbreak or regret. But the moment I caught the invitation, the only thought that crossed my mind was a practical one: I wondered what the legal punishment for bigamy was. For the next three days, I buried myself in my studio, shutting out everything beyond its walls. It wasn't until the deafening sound of guests laughing, chatting, and raising their glasses outside finally broke through that I remembered what day it was—Eleanor and Charles' engagement party. I slipped into a black suit, taking the time to make sure I looked sharp enough to turn heads. When I finally stepped into the venue, the man and woman onstage looked like a perfect match. Charles stood beside Eleanor in a custom-made formal suit, smiling as he basked in the congratulations of their guests. Everyone around them seemed caught up in the celebration, but my attention passed over all of it and settled on the necklace around Eleanor's neck. It was the Star of the Ocean. My eyes lingered on it as the words from those yellowed pieces of paper flashed through my mind. Once, I'd believed every word written there. Now, standing beneath the bright lights as I watched her celebrate her engagement to another man, those promises seemed nothing short of absurd. As if sensing my gaze, Eleanor looked up. She slipped an arm around Charles and deliberately raised her voice. "Thank you all for coming to witness the happiness Charles and I have found. All the mistakes and obstacles from the past can finally be put behind us today." The reporters immediately swarmed me, thrusting microphones toward my face and demanding to know how I felt about the engagement. I glanced at Eleanor before answering loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Of course, I had to come. Without me, this engagement party would be missing half the excitement." With that, I headed for the stage and picked up a microphone. Every eye in the room turned toward me. I gave the guests and reporters a perfectly polite smile, and almost immediately, people onstage began exchanging knowing looks. They clearly assumed I'd come to make a scene and crash the engagement. Suddenly, everyone seemed eager to see what I would do next. But the moment Eleanor saw my smile, something seemed to click. Her expression changed completely. Without warning, she bolted toward the backstage area like a woman possessed, moving so frantically that she didn't even notice she'd stepped on Charles' feet as she passed. "Eleanor, you're too slow." The moment the words left my mouth, a graphic video began playing across the massive screen. The disturbing footage was enough to send a wave of horror through the entire room. Guests turned deathly pale, and even Charles' face drained of color as his body began to tremble uncontrollably. A few couldn't stomach what they were seeing and doubled over, vomiting right there in front of everyone. I turned my attention to Eleanor. Her fists were clenched so tightly that her entire body trembled, as though sheer rage and humiliation were the only things keeping her upright. My smile widened. "My dear Ms. Hayes," I said, my voice almost cheerful, "consider this my wedding gift to you. Do you like it?"