Only Her Name on the Equity Certificate Chapter 1

After marrying Alan Naughton, every morning at seven, I would hear the progress of my “conquest” of him in my mind.

He was unfailingly responsive to my every whim, impeccably perfect.

Yet, the progress bar stubbornly stalled at 95%.

I loved him with all my heart, and naturally, I wanted him to love me just as completely.

So, I shed my sharp edges, embraced his preferences, and transformed myself into the gentle, virtuous Mrs. Naughton.

This morning’s progress report finally hit a hundred percent!

He came home early, changed into an off-white linen pajama set, and the cold aloofness that usually surrounded him softened.

We snuggled together, watching an indie romance film. He got up to wash fruit, and I leaned back on the still-warm sofa, my heart full of sweetness.

Suddenly, my tablet chimed twice.

Curiously, I tapped it open and froze.

“Your wife is so ugly, ugh.”

“At 4 minutes 13 seconds, her tummy rolls are practically popping out. You must be suffering, pretending to be in love with her watching this movie.”

…

I stared at the two lines of text on the screen.

Shock, fury, disgust.

All emotions intertwined, but I didn’t explode.

How could the man I had completely “conquered” be live-streaming our time together to someone else?

I knew Alan’s character. He was aloof and proud; he would never do something so despicable.

It must be a misunderstanding!

Before he explained, I shouldn’t blindly lose my temper and accuse him.

Alan walked out, drying his hair, and saw me sitting on the bed, pale, holding the tablet.

“Mia, what’s wrong? Feeling unwell?”

I turned the tablet and pushed it toward him.

Alan’s gaze fell on the screen.

I didn’t miss a single change in his expression.

No panic, no guilt.

He simply visibly darkened, then tiredly pinched the bridge of his nose: “She’s at it again.”

“Who is ‘she’?”

Alan sat beside me, his voice full of helplessness: “A new colleague who joined our department, her name’s Clara.”

He pointed to his head.

“Probably severe delusional disorder.”

He candidly pulled out his phone, unlocked it, opened his messenger, and handed it to me.

“See for yourself.”

The chat history was filled with Clara’s one-sided barrages.

“Dr. Naughton, you look so handsome in your lab coat today!”

“Your spoiled, old-fashioned wife is no good. Only I can help you.”

There were also various self-orchestrated fantasies.

Alan’s replies were few and far between, and entirely about stiff work matters.

I tapped into Clara’s social media, no photos, just blurred silhouettes and travel check-ins.

“She’s harassing you like this, why haven’t you blocked her?” My voice was still tight.

Alan smiled bitterly, pulling me into his arms.

“Mia, do you think I don’t want to? She was placed by the hospital board, and she has deep connections. The board insisted we work together on several major projects recently. If I blocked her, how would I move forward with my work? To avoid delays, I can only keep her on my contacts and pretend she’s dead, just ignore her.”

His voice held deep exhaustion.

“I thought if I just ignored her, she’d get bored and stop. I never expected her to send such disgusting things to you!”

“I’m sorry, Mia. I didn’t handle it well; I let you down.”

Just then, that voice in my head suddenly spoke.

[Warning: Trust crisis detected with your target. Current approval rating 100%. Please stop baseless speculation and avoid damaging the perfect marital relationship!]

The bloodshot eyes and candid look in Alan’s eyes filled me with guilt.

I had misunderstood him.

He worked so hard outside, dealing with harassment from a crazy person, and yet I doubted him over two messages.

“I’m sorry, Alan…” I hugged him back, my voice choked, “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

He kissed my forehead: “Silly girl, we don’t need apologies between us.”

The next day.

I personally cooked several of his favorite dishes, carefully packed them, and took them to the hospital.

Pushing open his office door, he was sitting at his desk, rubbing his temples.

Seeing me, a flicker of surprise crossed his eyes.

“Why didn’t you call ahead? Aren’t you tired?” He smiled, taking the insulated box.

“Wanted to make sure you’re well fed.”

Just as he picked up his chopsticks to eat, his phone screen lit up.

Alan glanced at it, his face instantly changing, and he decisively stood up: “Mia, emergency in the ER. Major car accident. I have to go save them immediately!”

He grabbed his lab coat and rushed out of the office.

I stood there, stunned, looking at the steaming food, a hollow feeling in my heart.

But there was nothing to do. Lives were on the line.

I could only quietly pack up the insulated box and take a cab home.

As soon as I walked through the door, I received a text message from an unknown number.

“The food you cook, just the smell of it is sickening. Not as delicious as my body, though. Dr. Naughton is starving for it~”