It was the third day of our cold war.
I’d just walked through the door when Mr. Davies, our butler, presented a massive bouquet of roses.
Mr. Davies’s smile was a little too sweet, a little too forced.
“Sir realized his mistake. He personally picked out your favorite red roses this morning.”
“If Sir didn’t have a meeting today, he would have delivered them himself. Please don’t be too angry, you’re the most important person to him.”
To cover for Julian, Mr. Davies piled on the compliments, but after a long day, I just felt irritated.
Red roses were my favorite.
My hand lifted, but I didn’t reach for them. I wearily rubbed my forehead and walked past the butler, heading upstairs.
Every time we argued, Julian would send me lots of things.
Usually, I’d cherish them like treasures.
But after finding that love letter, these gifts felt like a cruel joke.
It was almost time for the seasons to change, and I wanted to update my wardrobe.
While tidying up, I found a yellowed envelope at the bottom of my closet.
Pink trim, old-fashioned. I knew immediately it wasn’t mine.
I’d been looking at it for less than half a minute when Julian, fresh out of the bathroom, rushed over and snatched the envelope from my hands.
He carefully inspected it, making sure it was undamaged, then folded it up.
As if just realizing I was there, he looked at me, stunned.
Julian showed no sign of embarrassment or shame at being caught. Instead, his gaze held a hint of reproach.
“Why are you rummaging through my things? Even after marriage, people need their own space. You’re getting more and more out of control.”
Just for accidentally seeing something of his, I was being judged.
It was as if the marriage vow, “Everything I have is open to you,” had never been spoken.
I pressed my lips together, meeting his eyes.
“Aren’t you going to explain yourself?”
The name on that love letter was Chloe, my high school desk mate.
The date was during our sophomore year.
Julian and I had gotten together at a reunion dinner after graduation.
He confessed his feelings, and I immediately accepted.
I’d forgotten that day was the second day Chloe had left the country.
In high school, I was quiet. Chloe was outgoing and could chat with anyone.
Because we were desk mates, Chloe often talked to me.
To be honest, I liked her back then.
We had a good relationship, sometimes ate together, and discussed girl talk.
Julian, however, didn’t seem to think he was in the wrong. He said,
“What’s there to explain? *You* should be explaining yourself. Why were you going through my stuff?”
The atmosphere hung heavy until his phone rang. He answered it, letting out a sigh of relief.
“Forget it, I forgive you. Just don’t touch my things again.”
He tossed out the words, then casually threw on some clothes and left.
As for the love letter, he acted as if he’d forgotten about it, never mentioning it again.
It wasn’t that I hadn’t made a scene before, but his contemptuous, helpless gaze always cut deep.
He’d said:
“We’re married now, what else do you want?”
His words tightened around my heart, squeezing until I couldn’t breathe.
The window was open, the air circulating, yet I felt suffocated.
In that moment, for the first time, I began to truly examine our years together.
That night, I had already fallen asleep.
In my dream, a dog kept clinging to me. Drowsily, I opened my eyes, met by a pungent smell.
Julian, reeking of alcohol, was kissing me.
His eyes were moist, like a golden retriever who had finally found its owner.
After years of marriage, I got up and gently pushed him aside, intending to get him some diluted salt water to sober him up.
I sat up, putting on my shoes, when suddenly a warm presence pressed close behind me.
Julian hugged me tightly, burying his head against my shoulder.
His voice was full of grievance:
“Don’t leave.”
I turned my head, my gaze tinged with a hint of sarcasm.
“Am *I* the person you want to stay?”
The moment the words left my lips, I felt the person behind me stiffen.
The pressure on my shoulder eased.
I turned around to see Julian lying flat on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, his eyes deep and vacant.
My heart ached, my nose stung, but a cold, mocking smile touched my lips as I continued.
“Is it because my parents passed away that you pitied me and married me?”
He was the one who proposed, six months after my parents died in a car accident.
I was devastated then, and he volunteered to help me manage the company.
Before helping me, Julian had lost a fortune trying to start his own business.
He was desperately looking for loans, and relatives and friends avoided him like the plague.
He finally begged me to let him join the company to repay his debts with his salary.
Unfortunately, his meager salary couldn’t even make a dent in the massive debt.
He could only solve it by dipping into the company’s funds.
I saw how hard he worked for the company, so I never exposed him.
Later, after we got married, he gradually took over the company, allowing me to pursue work I loved.
He promised me that my shares in the company would remain the highest, and he did keep that promise.
But the reality now was Julian asking me:
“So what do you want now?”
I gave Julian a sidelong glance. The tearing pain in my heart made it hard to breathe. Disappointed, I stood up.
My hand was taken, a warm palm connecting to icy fingertips, a confusing mix of hot and cold.
Julian repeated his question, this time with a hint of compromise, forbearance… and a touch of disgust.
“What else do you even want?”
After that night, he often avoided being alone with me.
I didn’t crumble like I had after my parents passed.
I pulled myself together and went back to work at the company.
The company’s board members were surprised by my return.
Some said I was just back to play around, while others speculated that my marriage was on the rocks.
I took on more and more responsibilities, and Julian slowly stopped avoiding me.
He started acting like he used to, doing things according to my wishes.
I knew there was an invisible veil between us, obscuring our true selves.
What broke the stalemate, or rather, worsened it, was a high school reunion.
Our old homeroom teacher suddenly organized a reunion and specifically called to invite us.
Our once handsome class monitor had turned into an overweight office worker.
The quiet girl had transformed into a stunning, articulate beauty. Everyone had changed so much.
Their arrival drew everyone’s attention, and murmurs started.
“Is that Aria? She’s so gorgeous now.”
“They actually look so good together now.”
It was true. Julian and I had almost no interaction in the three years we were in the same high school class.
It was my desk mate who had a good relationship with him.
Everyone always thought Chloe and Julian would end up together.
In high school, Julian was smart, handsome, and popular. I was just a clueless nerd who didn’t know how to dress up.
Back then, no one thought we’d ever be together, and Julian was the one who confessed first.
Mark, our class monitor, was still as enthusiastic as ever. He walked up to us and started chatting.
“You two are such busy bees! Our teacher said it took forever to get you to come.”
I smiled, my gaze sweeping over the room, unfazed by everyone’s eyes on us.
“But we’re here now, aren’t we? Let’s sit down and talk.”
Once we sat, everyone caught up, drinking and reminiscing.
Quite a few classmates I’d never really interacted with in high school came over to chat with me.
Brad, our old jock, half-drunk, came over and clapped Julian on the shoulder.
“You’re one lucky bastard, marrying our class’s rich girl! And now she’s so beautiful.”
“Hahahaha, the poorest guy in our class ended up with the richest. Good for you, buddy!”
His voice wasn’t quiet. After he finished speaking, a heavy silence fell over the room.
Julian’s smile froze, his face darkening.
Julian hated nothing more than people saying he owed his wealth to me.
He always believed his achievements were solely due to his own efforts, and I merely provided a stepping stone.
A smile was plastered on my face, but it didn’t reach my eyes. I said calmly,
“Brad, you’re drunk.”
I wasn’t defending Julian; I was defending my own pride.
Brad let out a loud burp.
“No, I’m not! If I’d known you were so loaded, I would’ve gone for you first…”
Before he could finish, Mark quickly came over, clapped a hand over his mouth, and dragged him away.
“You’re wasted! It’s been years, can’t you tell what to say and what not to say?”
Our teacher sensed the awkward atmosphere and started urging everyone to eat.
The mood hadn’t improved when the door opened, and a familiar figure appeared.
Her figure was graceful, her appearance beautiful.
She had a new maturity and charm that she didn’t possess in high school.
Chloe walked in, greeting everyone warmly, and chose a seat closest to me.
A few people stared at Chloe, whispering. Our teacher coughed a few times and said,
“Stop staring. Chloe’s back in the country for good this time. You’ll have plenty of time to catch up.”
Their eyes locked, a silent, intimate conversation unfolding right across me, as if they wanted everyone to know about their unspoken affection.
And I, his actual wife, felt like the villain tearing them apart.
Later in the reunion, everyone got wasted. I stepped outside for some fresh air and happened to run into Chloe.
A sickly sweet, cooing voice reached my ears:
“I’m back now, so when are you going to divorce her?”
The door was ajar. I couldn’t see the other person, but my heart plummeted.
The moment that voice spoke, my heart died a little.
The owner of the voice seemed annoyed, but tried to be gentle with the person in front of them:
“You just got back. What’s the rush? Settle in first, then we’ll talk.”
“Don’t lie to me! I came back for you!”
I crossed my arms, a faint smile playing on my lips, but my eyes were brimming with coldness.
“Why are you talking out here? Is it something others can’t hear?”
They exchanged a glance, unsure if their conversation had been overheard.
Compared to Julian’s panic, Chloe quickly regained her composure.
She walked over intimately and linked her arm through mine.
“Oh, we were just talking about you, silly! I was asking Julian what you like these days because I wanted to get you a gift.”
I pulled Chloe’s hand away, forcing a polite, business-like smile.
“Still calling him Julian, huh? You two are still so close.”
Both their faces stiffened. I continued,
“No need for you to trouble yourself with gifts. Julian and I have everything we need now.”
I’d vaguely heard about Chloe’s life abroad; it hadn’t been easy.
Driven by a desire for shared misery, I looked up at Julian, giving him no quarter.
“Julian, you and Chloe were quite the match in high school. But maybe you shouldn’t be too close now, I might get jealous.”
I said I might get jealous, but my cold demeanor sent a chill down Julian’s spine.
The ride home was silent. Julian’s phone kept buzzing.
I was starting to get annoyed by it. I asked,
“Aren’t you going to reply? What if Chloe has something important to tell you?”
The moment her name left my lips, Julian slammed on the brakes.
He shot me an irritated glance and then turned off his phone.
“I told you, there’s nothing going on between us. Didn’t I just explain it to you?”
His defense was weak and pale. I bit my lower lip, my mind already calculating divorce.
After that, their relationship completely froze. We didn’t even argue anymore.
Although he was the one who confessed, I clearly knew I was the one always chasing.
Every cold war ended with me making the first move to reconcile.
Julian would just brush me off with gifts, as if presents could solve everything.
But he forgot that it was my connections and family that had lifted him to heights he could never have reached on his own.
Perhaps Julian had truly loved me once, but that love letter signaled that I was never his first priority.
I felt too little love, and I didn’t want to trap myself in fantasies.
But at night, getting lost in memories made it hard to breathe. My body felt off.
I selectively ignored it and went to work as usual the next day.
For several days, Julian didn’t come home. I knew but paid it no mind, dedicating my energy to the company’s new project.
It was only when I finally decided to take a night off and came home for dinner that Mr. Davies asked,
“It’s getting cold lately. Sir hasn’t been home for days. I wonder if he has enough clothes at the office. Madam, would you like to send some to him?”
This cold war had lasted too long, and everyone else in the house was a little anxious.
Perhaps Mr. Davies just couldn’t stand the current atmosphere and was offering a kind suggestion.
I’d been stressed with many things recently, and my emotions felt a little out of control.
My cool voice turned sharp, piercing through anyone who didn’t align with my mood.
“If you’re so worried, go find him yourself. I probably even know where he is. Do you need me to tell you?”
Mr. Davies had been hired during my high school years because my parents were busy with the company.
Before, in our home, Mr. Davies always prioritized my feelings.
But after Julian and I got married, Mr. Davies gradually began to prioritize Julian.
I stared at the dishes in front of me, most of which were Julian’s favorites.
It wasn’t just Mr. Davies; the housekeeper was the same.
Clothes and daily meals were first discussed with Julian. The home décor was arranged according to his preferences.
Everything that was mine was slowly being eroded, swallowed up.
I took a deep breath, my eyes sharp as I swept them over Mr. Davies.
“Find the design blueprints I made for the house before. Arrange everything according to those.”
Mr. Davies hesitated, wanting to speak, but then forced a smile.
“Madam, that’s a huge project, and we should discuss it with Sir first…”
I stared at her, expressionless.
Mr. Davies fell silent, no longer speaking, and immediately ordered someone to find the blueprints.
I went to the company and focused solely on organizing the project proposal, not noticing anyone had entered.
When I finally took a breather, I looked up to see Julian, whom I hadn’t seen in days.
I pretended he wasn’t there, standing up to ask my secretary why she’d let someone in without my permission.
Julian stepped forward and grabbed my hand. After days apart, his first words were an accusation:
“Why are you redecorating the house? Are you planning to divorce me? All because of that love letter?”
He sighed in exasperation, accusing me:
“You’re getting more and more selfish. You weren’t like this before.”
At his words, my heart suddenly tightened. I exhaled, scrutinizing him.
“And you? Haven’t *you* changed?”
“Also, it’s my house. I don’t need you telling me what to do.”
Julian hated it when I talked about money.
Every time I brought it up, he felt like a failure, inferior to me.
I knew this, which is why I often avoided such topics and only praised Julian when we were out.
But with too much praise, not only did outsiders think I relied entirely on Julian, even Julian himself couldn’t distinguish reality.
Julian was provoked by my words, his grip unconsciously tightening on my wrist.
Pain shot through my wrist. I pressed my lips together, ignoring his cold gaze, and pried his hand off.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve been up to these past few days.”
Julian was speechless for a moment, then quickly found his voice.
“You never saw how hard I worked for the company before? Now I’ve just made one mistake, and you’re treating me like this?”
“Is it true that you only care about this company, and I’m nothing more than your obedient dog?”
My brows furrowed. I didn’t understand why he was feeling sorry for himself. I just said,
“If that’s what you want to think, I can’t help you.”
Then, remembering something, I scoffed,
“Are things settled with Chloe yet? Or are you just coming here to throw a tantrum? You know I’m not a forgiving person, right?”
Julian’s body stiffened. He denied it flatly:
“I’m not.”
It was such a flimsy denial.
My phone vibrated in my hand. I glanced down, then dismissively replied to him,
“Yes, you’re right. It’s just harmonious, loving help between classmates and friends.”
Julian was annoyed by my attitude.
“Why are you treating me like this over an outsider? She’s her, you’re you. We’re married.”
His twisted logic made me laugh in exasperation. I wanted to leave, but Julian grabbed me.
He remembered the real reason he came to see me: to tell me to get less involved in company matters.
I was the largest shareholder, and my return significantly impacted Julian.
The old-school board members, who already disliked Julian, were now openly challenging him, causing him to gradually lose influence in the company.
My bad mood made me prone to sarcasm, and he didn’t know how to communicate with me anymore.
After all, since our marriage, we rarely had such difficult conversations.
Before, I often talked myself out of my own moods, making him forget that I used to be quite strong-willed before we married.
Seeing that I didn’t trust him, Julian, as if grasping a lifeline, said,
“I can explain it to you. That love letter…”
But I didn’t have time to pursue it now. I turned and waved him off.
“I have something to do right now. We can talk later.”
Julian’s heart twisted with an indescribable bitterness, like he’d swallowed poison.
I wasn’t intentionally ignoring him; it was just bad timing.
I had finally gotten a response from the head of the Hayes Group, whom I’d been trying to meet for a long time.
I arrived at the agreed-upon location, following the address he’d given me.
When I saw the person, I froze.
The balloon in my chest, on the verge of bursting, seemed to slowly deflate.
Meeting the eyes of the person before me, I broke into a smile.
It felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted from my shoulders, and I exhaled in relief.
It wasn’t a forced smile or a cold sneer, but a rare moment of genuine ease these past few days.
Liam watched my transformation from tension to relaxation and smiled wryly, extending his hand.
“Long time no see, Ms. Jiang.”
His address made me momentarily disoriented.
It had been so long since anyone called me Ms. Jiang. The title of Mrs. Qi had almost made me forget my own surname.
I snapped back to reality, stood up, and shook his hand.
“Long time no see, Liam.”
Liam was my junior high classmate.
Our families lived close and knew each other, so we often walked to and from school together.
We went to different high schools, but our relationship remained as good as ever.
However, Liam went abroad for university, and later I got married, so our contact diminished.
I never expected the representative I was meeting to be Liam.
We exchanged a few pleasantries, then got down to business.
Liam had just returned to the country and taken over his current project. The partner for the collaboration was still under discussion.
Although we were old acquaintances, Liam had no intention of giving me special treatment.
I knew it wouldn’t be easy to secure the deal, but the hope wasn’t entirely gone.
There were still a few missing points in the contract, and Liam asked me to revise them and come to his company next time for discussion.
Afterward, we both stood up and walked out.
With the business negotiations set aside, our conversation reverted to our old easygoing dynamic.
Liam had been dropped off by his driver, but then got a call saying the driver had an emergency. I didn’t hesitate to offer him a ride home.
We chatted and laughed our way to the parking lot, only to find Julian there.
Julian’s eyes lit up when he saw me, but then his gaze narrowed sharply when he saw the person beside me.
He quickly walked to my side, separating us, his eyes filled with hostility.
Julian didn’t want to speak to Liam. As if fleeing a plague, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward his car.
I glanced back at Liam, my mind still preoccupied with the contract.
Realizing I couldn’t offend him, I shook off Julian’s hand.
Julian’s eyes darkened as he looked at his hand, which I’d just pushed away.
I stopped.
“What are you doing?”
Julian’s gaze was full of scrutiny, sweeping over both of us. He sneered,
“What am *I* doing? What are *you* doing? You’re married. What are you doing with him?”
I considered myself innocent. I was working hard for the company, yet he suspected me.
My emotions had been unstable these past few days, and his words made me explode instantly.
“How dare *you* ask me? Ha, I didn’t realize Mr. Qi’s standards were so high. When Mr. Qi and Ms. Chloe were together, did you ever consider that you were married?”
Our words turned into spears, stabbing at each other.
Our voices were powerful, yet privately held shattered hearts.
The parking lot lights were dim. We could see each other, but a fog separated us, making it impossible to get closer.
The atmosphere was at a standstill. Liam took two long strides forward.
“Mr. Qi seems to have a lot of animosity towards me. Do you think there’s a problem with our partnership?”
Julian, who had been about to speak, closed his mouth again, his brow furrowed with confusion.
“Partnership?”
I scoffed at his confusion.
“Julian, you really are a diligent husband, aren’t you? You truly haven’t cared about the company at all these past few days?”
Liam “kindly” explained the reason for our meeting.
Watching Julian’s face go from angry red to pale green, Liam’s eyes flickered with disdain and scorn.
I was in no mood to deal with whatever he was thinking. I got straight into my car.
Liam understood and followed, leaving Julian standing alone.
After that, Julian came home, while I was busy dealing with company affairs.
No matter how he tried to win me over, I ignored him.
Everyone’s patience has a breaking point.
I dragged my exhausted body home, met by a cloud of cigarette smoke. I hated the smell of smoke.
Julian occasionally smoked, but he always avoided me when he did, and he’d air himself out before coming near me.
The room was dim, with small points of light near the sofa.
I turned on the light, still intending to ignore him as before.
A weary, tired voice came from behind me, a mix of surrender and coercion.
“Let’s talk.”
An unavoidable conversation.
I checked my watch and said, “Ten minutes. I need to sleep. I have an early start tomorrow.”
Julian paused at my words, then let out an enigmatic chuckle.
“Now talking to you is on a timer? When did we become like this?”
I replied:
“Since your love letter.”
Julian was silent for a while, then said,
“Yes, that love letter was for Chloe, but I haven’t had feelings for her for a long time. Why don’t you believe me?”
No feelings? If there were no feelings, why did that conversation at the class reunion happen? Was I imagining it?
I inwardly sighed at Julian’s growing ability to lie through his teeth.
I turned to meet his gaze, like an invisible struggle for dominance.
Neither of us would back down until we were both wounded.
“So, is an explanation really so hard? Wasn’t it *you* who kept running away!? Do you dare to ask yourself if you truly had no ulterior motives?”
“When I tried to explain to you, what were *you* doing? Weren’t you busy chatting with Liam?”
“That was business. I don’t have as much free time as you do.”
“Business? Does business require meeting and chatting every day? Fine, you had no ulterior motives. But what about him?”
“You should sort out your own mess first. Everything I do is for the company. Oh, right, it’s *my* company, not yours. You, of course, don’t care about its development!”
“Did you go abroad that year after we got married because of him?”
I didn’t understand what that had to do with that year – a year I didn’t want to revisit.
I don’t remember when that night ended.
I only remember countless hurtful words exchanged between us. Our bodies were still there, but our hearts had already crumbled, and love had rotted.
After his outburst, I dreamed all night.
I didn’t sleep well. Waking up, I checked my phone for messages.
Among the work emails, one stood out.
Unknown sender:
[It’s Chloe. Let’s meet and clear things up.]
I swiped away the message and replied to my work emails.
It was business as usual: reviewing documents, attending meetings, communicating.
It wasn’t until dusk approached that I pulled out my lipstick and reapplied some color to my lips.
When I arrived at the meeting spot Chloe had chosen, I found she was already there.
Chloe rested her chin on her hand, smiling as she looked at me.
“I thought you wouldn’t come.”
I ordered a black coffee. Chloe seemed surprised.
“You drink black coffee now? I remember you used to hate anything bitter.”
Because of our close relationship as high school desk mates, Chloe was the first person to know about my family background.
But times had changed. Years had eroded our feelings. No one stayed in the past.
I lowered my gaze.
“You’re probably not here to reminisce.”
Chloe stirred her coffee.
“I really didn’t want things to be like this between us. Actually, I quite liked you.”
I smiled, not a mocking laugh, but a genuine one.
The chosen spot was perfect; I could see the sunset outside with a glance.
The setting sun’s rays fell on Chloe and me, as if admiring our beauty.
“About Julian and me, I’m sorry, but I really can’t be without him now.”
My tone was mocking.
“Your feelings seem so deep. Why did you break up before?”
Chloe was rarely stumped, but she quickly recovered, leaning forward with more aggression.
“I know about the love letter, the one he wrote to me.”
“Actually, by now you should probably know why Julian chose you back then, right? It was because I went abroad, and you could be his best stepping stone at the time.”
She mercilessly shattered my illusions, every word stabbing at my heart.
I saw it clearly, yet I still deluded myself, convincing myself that at least the love of these past few years was real.
But hearing the truth from Chloe, my former good friend and the woman Julian once loved, still made me uncontrollably sad.
Gathering my last bit of courage, I met her gaze, stating calmly,
“So what? At least we were happy for all those years, and we genuinely loved each other.”
Chloe wasn’t deterred. She looked like a victorious winner already, pulling out her phone and pushing it towards me.
“Read this, then tell me when you two ever loved each other.”
I picked up the phone and scrolled through, my pupils contracting, the air growing thin.
Chloe’s smile in front of me twisted, like a demon’s.
I forgot how I walked out of the coffee shop. I only remembered all my memories with Julian being splattered with paint.
My mind was filled with that chat log.
Chloe and Julian’s messages started in the second year of Julian and my relationship.
At first, it was just polite greetings, then slowly progressing to casual chats, sharing things, then ambiguous messages, and exchanging gifts.
Every word they typed on the phone felt like a slap to my face.
They had even met multiple times over the years. Julian’s frequent excuses about going abroad for “business collaborations” were actually trips to see Chloe.
The year I was undergoing treatment, they met as usual, the overflowing affection on the screen searing my eyes.
How ridiculous. So ridiculous that I couldn’t even cry.
It was completely dark now. There was no dramatic rain, like in a movie, to accompany my sorrow. The city went on as usual.
I even felt a strange relief that I had found the love letter, that I had taken my heart back from Julian before seeing those chat logs.
But why did it still hurt so much?
Was love really so hard to let go of?
I walked to my car, then squatted down, burying my head in my knees, unable to speak.
Afraid of being discovered, I didn’t even dare to cry out loud.
I don’t know how long passed, until my legs went numb.
Someone gently called out to me. I looked up, my vision blurry from crying for so long.
A man was squatting in front of me, his voice soft, as if afraid to startle me.
“Why are you crying here? Did something happen?”
I suddenly stood up, but my legs were sore and numb from squatting. I stumbled forward and fell into Liam’s arms.
Liam was about to make a playful remark to lighten the somewhat sad atmosphere.
But the person buried in his shoulder began to sob louder. Liam sighed and silently patted my back.
He comforted me just like he did in elementary school when I cried after doing badly on a test.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. Everything will pass.”
The voice muffled against his chest, tainted with a sniffle:
“It won’t pass. It’s already too late.”
I knew I shouldn’t be so close to Liam in public, especially after I’d told him just yesterday not to overstep.
But I desperately needed a anchor right now.
Liam had just finished a business meeting and happened to drive by, seeing my familiar car parked. He got out and found me squatting on the ground.
When I buried myself in his arms, a flicker of joy shot through me, but seeing me cry, he felt a rare surge of anger.
He liked me, had for a long time, but it felt like everyone kept getting in the way of his feelings.
Julian’s appearance, the growing distance between our families, and then *that* incident—he felt he had no face to see me.
Going abroad for further studies, he saw more of the world, and his desire for power grew day by day.
And his former affection had twisted into a distorted love.
Liam was no longer afraid; he confronted his desires head-on.
Liam patiently, endlessly comforted me.
He had already noticed Julian standing not far away, staring at us with cold eyes.
Liam’s lips curved into an almost imperceptible smile.
He lowered his head and gently kissed the forehead of the person in his arms.
I was startled by his action, and rationality returned. I quickly pulled away from him.
Liam reined in his emotions and said,
“I apologize, I was out of line.”
I had thrown myself into his arms, so I opened my mouth but had no words. I just blurted out,
“I have something to do,” and got into my car.
The next time I saw Julian was in a photo someone sent me.
An anonymous text message, an intimate photo.
Julian was asleep, tightly embracing the person in his arms, a pretty, charming woman.
The photo scorched my eyes and my heart. Suddenly, I felt like I couldn’t breathe, violently bending over and dry heaving.
When I came to, I was already in my car.
My mind was fixated on finding answers, but what could I even say?
In a moment of distraction, a powerful impact came from the right.
Before the car window shattered, I only felt like a fool.
The next time I opened my eyes, I was in a hospital.
My head was splitting, and I felt a bit disoriented.
The pain in my abdomen spread throughout my entire body.
A nurse called the doctor. As the doctor stood by my side, about to speak to me, two people burst into the room.
Julian looked at me with heartache, while Chloe stood outside the door, silent.
The doctor, having seen many ridiculous situations, inwardly scoffed but maintained professional composure, a cold glint flashing behind his glasses.
“Fortunately, the car accident didn’t cause severe injuries, but Ms. Jiang’s body is weak after the miscarriage and needs careful recuperation.”
At his words, everyone present froze, including Liam, who had just arrived.
I touched my aching abdomen, deflated, and softly murmured,
“I… I was pregnant?”
Recalling my recent unexplained emotional fluctuations, everything suddenly made sense.
Light shone at the foot of the bed, but it stopped beside me, casting me in shadow.
A slight chill in the breeze hinted that the city’s cold autumn was approaching.
I sat on the hospital bed, my eyes vacant. The pain in my abdomen spread throughout my body.
I wrapped my arms around my stomach, curling into a ball, my eyes red and terrifying, tears flowing unconsciously.
Julian approached the bedside, his hands trembling as he pulled me into his embrace.
It was a rare moment of tenderness after so many days, yet I felt no warmth at all.
The doctor offered a few polite words of comfort and then hurried to the next room.
Julian’s eyes were slightly red, his voice hoarse.
“…We’ll have other children.”
In that moment, those words were genuine, a heartfelt promise from him.
I couldn’t even remember the last time Julian had comforted me with such tenderness.
Chloe walked over and sat on the side of the bed, advising me,
“It’s important to take care of your health.”
Catching Chloe’s gaze and the ambiguous red mark on her neck, I snapped out of the fleeting tenderness.
I remembered how I’d lost my mind after seeing that photo.
I struggled forcefully out of Julian’s embrace, retreating away from them.
I had already felt Julian’s perfunctoriness for a long time.
It was just that the feelings accumulated over time were watered with flesh and blood.
The love letter was just the fuse. Even before that, I had been enduring.
My feelings for Julian had also been cooling.
But whenever I thought of the young Julian, I couldn’t bear to let go.
In this relationship, which I wasn’t sure I had wanted, I truly had loved him well.
But now, after losing the child, I couldn’t tell if this feeling was love, or just a high sunk cost from the past.
At this moment, I truly hated Julian.
I tried hard not to look too pathetic, but my body was uncontrollably trembling.
I clutched my chest, hatred erupting through my eyes.
When Julian met my gaze, he froze at the hate and disgust in my eyes.
It was as if a sudden arrow had pierced his heart, bleeding profusely.
Before today, he thought he only felt a sense of marital responsibility towards me.
But when he heard about my car accident, he was terrified. In that moment, he realized the world would be gray without me.
Seeing that I was okay, his senses for this world returned, like his heart started beating again.
Chloe, standing nearby, felt complicated. She had just witnessed Julian almost go crazy for someone else.
After hearing the news, he had driven recklessly to the hospital, nearly causing a second accident that day.
The man whose eyes were once filled only with her in high school was now anxious and worried for another woman.
For some unknown reason, she had stubbornly followed him.
She had successfully angered me, the woman who had lost her child, creating a rift between Julian and me. Yet, she found no joy in it.
Now, just as Chloe wished, I hated Julian. Every word I uttered was a sharp knife aimed at him.
“You two disgusting cheats, get out! Get out! What are you pretending for, Julian? You must be thrilled, aren’t you? The baby’s gone, and your crush is back. Congratulations.”
“I shouldn’t have gone looking for you. Why, why do I always lose? Why, why, why, I hate you, I hate all of you…”
After the miscarriage, my face was as pale as paper, yet flushed from emotional intensity, my long hair disheveled.
Tears soaked my beautiful face, making me look sickly and disheveled, with a broken beauty.
I grabbed the water glass beside me and threw it at Julian. He didn’t dodge, and blood trickled down his forehead, bringing me back to my senses.
My body couldn’t handle further outburst. I deflated, returning to my usual demeanor, and after a long silence, slowly spoke:
“Now that the baby is gone, I’m also tired of you. Let’s get a divorce.”
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