Vivian Garcia started as an unknown legal intern to become a partner at a top-tier law firm—all to be worthy of me.
She was incredibly clingy, spending every moment she wasn’t working either with me or traveling just to see me.
She once said she was a fish and I was the water, she couldn't live without me.

In the seventh year of our marriage, she was holding a little boy whose features vaguely similar to mine, her face glowing with adoration.
"Sweetheart, you're the oxygen in the air! Without you, I'd suffocate!"
Later, Vivian Garcia really did die.
And I, as her surviving spouse, took over her firm, gained control of all our joint assets, and incidentally drove her boy toy completely insane.
Initially, Vivian introduced Leo Rey to me as her godson.
She said Leo's birth chart was auspicious for us—adopting him would finally help us have our own child.

I refused.
Vivian wheedled, pressured, and nagged relentlessly.
Finally, I gave in, on the condition that Leo be sent to an old apartment downtown and kept out of my sight.
That settled it.

After all, years of marriage without a child had become a sore point for everyone.
I discovered something was off between Vivian and Leo three months ago, thanks to a WhatsApp message.
"You posted saying you're a fish, your husband's water, that you can't live without him. So what am I to you?"
"Sweetheart, you're the oxygen in the air! Without you, I'd suffocate!"
"Oh, you..."
"Just wait, I'll make you love it..."
The voice message lasted only seconds before it was quickly deleted.
A young, soft male voice laughing, and a familiar, steady yet eager and impatient woman's voice.
One listen was all it took.
The voices belonged to Vivian and her godson, Leo.
That eagerness in Vivian's voice used to come out every time she touched me.
But for the past three years, I hadn't seen it.
Just like in that recording, back when Vivian pursued me, her world revolved entirely around me—heart and soul.
At the peak of our passion, she declared to everyone that she was a fish, I was water, she couldn't live without me.
To be worthy of me, she completely transformed herself.
From that unknown legal intern, through sheer grit and countless sleepless nights, she became a partner at a top-tier law firm.
As my father put it, Vivian had rewritten her destiny in seven years.
We finally stood together without anyone whispering behind our backs.
Even new colleagues at her firm sometimes looked at me with respect and envy.
I never imagined that the woman who once clung to me 24/7 could change her heart so quickly!
I asked myself that before that WhatsApp message, had I noticed anything off about Vivian?
Yes.
But she came home every night.
Even dead drunk, she'd murmur my nickname in her sleep.
I'd see her clutching my hand, our fingers intertwined, even she was unconscious.
I'd hear her apologize, over and over, for the pressure from her parents about having a baby.
I felt guilty for my suspicions.
I ignored that faint, unfamiliar scent of cologne that sometimes clung to her.
I couldn't believe that the woman who once adored me, who would have laid her heart at my feet, would ever betray me.
That WhatsApp message forced me to re-examine Vivian and our entire marriage.
"Hubby, saw a food truck selling hot dogs, want me to bring you one?"
Just then, Vivian's text came through.
I looked at the stack of organized files and the drafted divorce papers on my desk.
Knowing the confrontation ahead would likely take hours and I'd need energy, I quickly replied, "Yes."
I remembered when I first accepted Vivian's pursuit.
She was a summer associate then, making a stipend, but it was nothing after NYC rent and student loans
After rent and basic expenses, she barely saved anything.
Not wanting her to feel pressured, I—someone used to Michelin-starred restaurants—started taking her to street vendors.
Five-dollar dirty water dogs, eight-dollar halal chicken over rice, four-dollar soft pretzels—street food I'd never tried, I learned to accept and genuinely enjoy.