My Husband Is a Gary Stu

Timothy's gaze darkened, and he turned his head to squint at Yuvan. “You've only met my wife a few times before, but today,
your affectionate attitude toward her seems like a show you're deliberately putting on for me.”
“Did Genevieve say something to you?” he then continued to ask, his probing gaze fixed on Yuvan's face.
Yuvan hadn't expected Timothy to be so sharp—to notice that something was off so quickly. “Genev told me that Johanna is all
alone in the world and asked me to take extra care of her.”
“What do you mean, 'all alone'?” Timothy's eyebrows knitted together. “I'm her husband, and she has a daughter.”
Yuvan glanced at him. Taking pleasure in his misfortune, he said, “Didn't Genev tell me that Johanna wants to divorce you?
When are you guys getting divorced? I think Johanna is a rather good woman. She's beautiful and exceptionally talented.”
Timothy was a man, too, and he could tell that the second part of Yuvan's statement was a genuine compliment toward Johanna.
It seemed like he was also hinting at his feelings for his wife.
Timothy said, “We will never get a divorce, and you are also not worthy of my wife.”
“Do you think you're worthy?” Yuvan sneered, his tone laced with mockery. “I heard you drove a pregnant woman, months into
her pregnancy, out of her home and didn't even bother to check on her.”
If Timothy wasn't aware of the relationship between Genevieve and his wife, he would really think that Genevieve was a gossip.
Did Genevieve have to badmouth him to everyone after one mistake?
“I was naive and trusted others too much,” Timothy admitted, but he also counterattacked Yuvan. “But I'm better than you. You
were manipulated by Eurydice. Doesn't that embarrass you?”
At the mere mention of Eurydice, Yuvan was reminded of the moment when his father ruthlessly struck his back with a stick, and
he could almost feel his back starting to ache.

Seeing Yuvan's face turn pale and speechless, Timothy felt much delighted.
After arriving at the art gallery, Timothy bought the famous painting that Johanna had taken a liking to from Yuvan. Yuvan, still full
of resentment from Timothy's earlier verbal attack, sold the painting to Timothy at a price several times higher than the market
value.
Timothy thought about Johanna having to attend oil painting classes with Yuvan and unhesitantly handed over his card.
Take this extra money as my wife's class fees.
On the other side, after Johanna returned to the old street, she quickly spotted a tall and skinny young man standing in front of
the renovating shop.
As the old street didn't have a suitable place for discussions, Johanna took the interviewee to a nearby coffee shop.
The two of them chatted in the café for over an hour. Johanna was quite satisfied with him in all aspects. They added each other
on WhatsApp, and she would notify him to start work once the shop renovation was completed.
When Johanna came out of the coffee shop, she realized it was almost four o'clock.
After she got in the car, she sent a message to Genevieve, telling her that she was heading straight to the mall where Asel and
the other children were hanging out to pick them up and head back together.
Then, Johanna drove all the way to the vicinity of the mall. She glanced and saw a red light not far away. As she was starting to
look away, she saw a figure frantically running toward her car on the road.
Johanna quickly hit the brakes, but the person who rushed in front of her car fell down with a thud.
It was if Johanna had been the one who knocked them over.
The sudden staged accident left Johanna utterly speechless. The woman who had fallen to the ground saw that Johanna was
not getting out of the car, so she began moaning. “My back hurts! My leg hurts!”

Her heart-wrenching cries, coupled with her white hair, drew the attention of the surrounding crowd, causing them to stop and
watch the scene.
After Johanna pulled the handbrake, she took her time getting out of the car. Once she walked to the front of the vehicle, she
bent down to look at the elderly woman.
While the other woman's hair was white, her complexion was smooth, not at all resembling someone in their eighties.
The person who was hit saw Johanna approaching and cried out even louder, “Oh my goodness, do you even know how to
drive? You've hit me so hard, my back feels like it's about to break.”
Johanna said calmly, “I didn't hit you; you ran toward my car yourself.”
“I don't have dementia, so why would I run toward your car on purpose?” The woman, noticing the crowd around them, began to
wail even louder. “Folks, be our judges! This young lady hit my car and won't even admit to her mistake!”
As Johanna had just purchased the car, she had yet to set up the dashcam. Moreover, the other woman was a professional at
staging accidents, making sure that she would get the perfect timing and angles.
Even if the police were to check the traffic surveillance, they would conclude that the driver had hit her.