Chapter 1

My wife was a total psycho drama queen. Every other day, she concocted some twisted way to "test" my love.

One day, she hired a gorgeous escort to lure me into a hotel room while she hid under the bed listening.

The next day, she waved a fake medical report claiming she had HIV, letting me suffer in sheer agony for three days before revealing it was all a joke.

Later, she dressed a mannequin in her clothes and hurled it off the balcony to fake her suicide. It nearly gave me a heart attack and turned me into the laughingstock of our entire neighborhood.

I was completely drained, suffocated, and pushed to my absolute limit.

Until the day she sent me a picture of herself in bed with her guy best friend...

"Chloe! You have crossed the line! A fake pregnancy test? Are you completely insane?!"

Clutching the prank test stick in my trembling hand, I glared at my wife on the sofa, my chest heaving with fury.

A few hours ago, when she texted me a picture of two pink lines, I was over the moon. I asked her again and again if it was real.

She swore it was. Two weeks along.

I thought no woman would ever joke about something so sacred, so I believed her. I immediately called my Nana to share the miracle.

On the other end of the line, Nana broke into joyful tears like a little girl, saying how wonderful it was and how she had prayed for a great-grandchild for so long.

Yet when I rushed home bursting with joy, all I received was a sick, twisted joke.

Chloe clung to my arm, pouting in that soft, babyish voice she always used:

"Babe, I just wanted to test you, to see if you really loved me."

"Besides, I was scared you might be like those toxic scabs on TikTok who force their wives to get abortions..."

She swayed my arm gently. "Don't be mad, okay? Forgive me?"

Hearing the exact same excuse for the hundredth time, I went completely numb, bone-deep exhaustion washing over me.

Truth be told, my patience with Chloe's unhinged antics had reached its absolute breaking point.

A bitter wave of regret surged in my chest. What was I thinking back then? How could I have fallen for such a narcissistic psycho?

Back in high school, Chloe was the golden girl, the homecoming queen every guy drooled over.

After graduation, I chased her relentlessly and even attended the same college just to be by her side.

For five agonizing years, I pursued her through countless days and nights until I finally got to put a ring on her finger.

I thought she was my dream girl, the love of my life.

Yet married life shattered that fantasy into dust.

Chloe was a drama queen to her rotten core.

Every few days, she stirred up trouble, finding bizarre and cruel ways to test my devotion.

Last month, she tricked me into a hotel room and hired a smoking-hot model with killer curves to seduce me.

The woman threw herself at me, practically begging for a wild night. Any ordinary man would have folded.

But I was a man of principles. I shut her down completely.

Then Chloe crawled out from under the bed, clapping and giggling, claiming it was just a test.

Another time, she showed me a forged HIV-positive lab report, weeping hysterically and claiming she had accidentally caught the virus.

My heart sank into a dark abyss, yet I held her tight without hesitation:

"Don't be afraid. We'll fight this together."

After two sleepless nights of pure agony, she handed me the real, negative report with a playful smirk:

"Congratulations, hubby! You passed!"

The worst was last month. She dressed a life-sized mannequin in her favorite red dress and pushed it off our second-floor balcony to stage her own suicide.

Coming home from work, I saw a figure crashing down right before my eyes. My heart almost stopped beating.

Seeing her lying in a pool of fake blood from a distance, I scrambled forward on my hands and knees, screaming and sobbing so hard that the entire neighborhood came rushing out.

When she stepped out from behind the front door with a phone in her hand, laughing her head off, I collapsed onto the pavement, unable to speak for an hour.

These twisted games had nearly driven me out of my mind.

And now, she had faked a pregnancy. How on earth was I supposed to face my elderly Nana?

Remembering Nana’s fragile, joyful voice on the phone made me feel like I was suffocating.

"Babe, I swear I know I messed up."

Chloe wrapped her arms tightly around mine, her voice choked with tears. "I promise, this was the absolute last test."

"After everything we’ve been through, I finally know without a doubt that you love me. Now I can safely give you a baby."

Looking at her tearful eyes, I took a ragged breath and forced down the sheer helplessness churning inside me:

"Chloe, you said it yourself. This is the last time."

Chloe nodded furiously, holding up three fingers. "I swear to God! Never, ever again!"

I chose to believe her. Or rather, I gave myself one final excuse to keep this marriage alive.

I naively thought that after crossing the line with something as serious as pregnancy, she would finally settle down.

I was dead wrong.

Not even a week of peace had passed before Chloe pulled another stunt.

And this time, she smashed through the one boundary I could never forgive.