Chapter 1 Chapter 1

This was supposed to be a night of celebration, the grand banquet hosted by our company's biggest client. However, for me, it was the seventh day after surgery for my ectopic pregnancy. Janet Porter, Walter Jones's childhood friend, flung the cake at the company's client, covering his clothes in frosting. Walter's first move? He checked on Janet, of all people, as if she were the one who had taken the hit. Then, his eyes found mine. "Melissa, go and apologize to Mr. Coleman." I stared at him, dumbfounded. The client's representative was scraping off the frosting, his expression twisting into a scowl. "Great, so your company is into passing the buck! The one who owes an apology is playing hide-and-seek." Janet's eyes were brimming with tears, yet she clung to Walter like a damsel in distress. Walter wrapped his arms around her, his gaze on me then icy and commanding. "What are you waiting for? Apologize, now! "Make a toast to Mr. Coleman, for starters. We can't afford to mess up this deal!" He had forgotten—or did not care—that I was still recovering. Alcohol was the last thing I needed. Janet's smug gaze was on me, her eyes challenging. She had seen that coming. She knew Walter would have her back, no matter what. I did not want to take the fall for her blunder, but then Walter leaned in, his breath on my ear. "One forgiveness card." He had gone all out with 66 romantic trips to win me over, each one a testament to his devotion. On the 67th, with our loved ones as witnesses, I had said yes to his proposal. That was why he made me a vow. "Melissa, you're the one I love most in the whole world! If I ever betray you, let lightning strike me down..." Before he could finish, my hand flew to his mouth, silencing him. Seeing him on his knees, swearing his love, my heart skipped a beat. To match his 66 proposals, I had a friend whip up 66 'forgiveness cards'. I warned him, "If you actually run through all these cards, I'm out of here!" Five years into our marriage, Walter locked those cards away like they were made of gold, scared I would cash one in on a whim. However, his childhood sweetheart came back from abroad. Just like that, in one year, he burned through sixty-three. At this moment, he was on number 64. I stood there, bent over, shaking slightly, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in my belly as I faced the client. "Mr. Coleman, I'm really sorry about all this." He just gave me a look, shook his head with a sigh, and did not lay into me. Bowing, I saw Walter tenderly fixing Janet's hair. "Watch where you're going next time, or you might hurt yourself on something!" "Yeah, yeah, you haven't changed a bit." 'Have not changed'? The pain in my stomach was spreading, turning my face ashen. Just hold on a little longer. He was on his last two strikes! After the party, I trailed behind Walter, eager to get home. However, there he was, with Janet, looking like they were made for each other. Walter turned his face to an icy mask and said, "You head home. Janet twisted her ankle, and I need to take care of her first." He entirely forgot that I was still hurting, his gaze on Janet was all worry and care. In the old days, I would have made a point of saying I was hurting too and insisted he take me along to the hospital. I would have been in tears, asking him why I was the one saying sorry when I had not even messed up. However, this time, I just gave a small nod. "Alright." Walter let out a sigh, his face a mix of emotions. "Melissa, take care of yourself, okay?"

Chapter 2 Chapter 2

No sooner had he spoken than Janet was by his side, clutching his arm. "Walter, my foot is killing me. Can we speed it up?" His suit jacket was thrown over her shoulders, her frail frame leaning into him. Walter did not even glance at me, pale with pain, as he effortlessly lifted her into the car's front seat. "Make sure you're comfy, and don't jostle your injury." Once he had settled her in and was ready to hit the road, he finally noticed me. "We grew up together, so she's like a sister to me. You head home." I flashed him a wry smile. "Yeah, 'sister'." I quickly added, just in case he thought I was ticked off, "You've played the forgiveness card, I'm not upset." Walter looked like he wanted to say more but fell silent. Janet let out a sharp hiss of pain, and he immediately turned to check on her. "We've got to go." With that, he drove off, leaving me standing at the hotel entrance, straightening my clothes. Back at home, I pulled out the so-called forgiveness card from the side table. The pile that used to be locked away in a safe was then just tossed in the drawer. After stamping the 64th card, I dug out the divorce papers I had prepared for a while. Frustrated by not knowing any lawyers, I decided to reach out to an old professor of mine. "Professor, do you know any good lawyers for a divorce?" I asked hesitantly. The professor seemed taken aback. "A divorce? You're getting a divorce? "I remember when you two first got together, you were the campus sensation. What's happened since then?" He had even seen the moment we got engaged. At this point, though, it felt like we could never return to those happier times. It all began when he started putting someone else before me, leaving me in the dust. When he and Janet were together, they were in their own world, and I was the outsider. When they shared a bed without a second thought, that was the last straw. The unwritten rule was clear: a third wheel spelled disaster for love. We had lost our way, and there was no turning back. The professor sighed. "I'll handle this. Someone will get in touch with you soon. Just tell them what you need." I glanced at the last two chances for forgiveness I was holding onto and finally spoke, "Alright, thanks, professor." Just then, Walter walked in. "Who were you talking to? The professor?" he inquired, curiosity in his eyes. He dropped a bag on the table, the contents hidden from view. I ended the call and faced him, trying to keep my voice even. "Nothing important, just some questions." Walter's frown deepened, his gaze probing. "What kind of questions? It's pretty late for that, isn't it?" I met his gaze, my own brows knitting together. "Just about an experiment, nothing to worry about." He finally relaxed, sinking into the couch and sliding the bag across to me. "Here, I got this for you." It was from my favorite local pastry shop, a place he used to visit all the time to bring me treats. The shop was an institution, a century-old favorite that always drew a crowd. Every time I craved a treat, he would be out the door at the crack of dawn, queuing up before the bakery's lights flickered on. I hated to see him go through all that trouble. However, he would just chuckle, give my nose a playful nudge, and say, "If you're hankering for a sweet, I'll be the one to snag it for you. Heck, if you asked for the moon, I'd find a way to yank it out of the sky." We racked up a ton of sugary-sweet memories over the years. "What the... What's this?" I peeked into the bag, expecting a pastry surprise, but nope. All I found was a dress smeared with frosting and a wadded-up bedsheet. Walter caught my look, his expression twisting into something odd. "Janet's dress is a mess, and the sheet's got a bloodstain that won't budge. She's got her reasons for not using cold water, so I figured you'd lend a hand." He grew bolder with every word, his face setting into a stubborn mask. "Come on, don't sweat the small stuff. You girls get it, right? If not, just use another 'forgiveness card'." I was ready to let him have it, but the words got jammed in my throat. I had just had surgery, and cold water made me feel worse. Had he forgotten? What was that about a 'forgiveness card'? However, his nonchalant attitude made me bite back my retort. OK. A 'forgiveness card'. Walter's wardrobe was nothing but swanky, tailor-made suits, each needing the VIP treatment—hand-washed and pressed. I must have been out of my mind, thinking my fussing was better than a trip to the cleaners.

Chapter 3 Chapter 3

I dumped the clothes by the door, ready to ship them off to the dry cleaner, then headed back to my room. Walter lit up like a Christmas tree when he saw me. "That's my girl, quick as a whip. Make sure Janet's favorite dress comes out spotless, will ya?" I gave a quick nod, ready to pamper my skin with a new face mask. I took the tablet from the nightstand and dove into the latest episode of my favorite series. Walter was glued to his phone, fingers flying as he texted away, probably chatting with someone. Out of nowhere, a message alert flashed on the tablet. Curious, I tapped it. Oops. It seemed Walter's messenger was still logged in. [Walter, you're the best at picking out treats. It's been ages since I've had pastries this good.] [The place was packed. You really went out of your way.] Walter shot me a quick look, still typing like a man on a mission. [If you're happy, that's all that matters. I'll snag some more for you next time.] [Perks of having a sister like you!] Janet shot back another message. [And my sheets? They've got my period stains. You sure Melissa won't mind washing them?] [If she's not cool with it, it's fine.] Walter's smile had that familiar, doting twist. [Don't sweat it. Cold water is the trick, and I wouldn't make you do it. She's got the know-how.] I froze for a second, my gaze drifting to Walter. Ever since we tied the knot, I had been the go-to for every little thing around the house, even swapping out light bulbs. No wonder he thought I was so seasoned. I tossed the tablet aside, done with the sting of those words. Mask off, Walter leaned in, his voice a whisper. "Melissa, Calvin needs me for a bit. You get some rest, okay?" I curled up, murmuring a yes. As he got dressed, I could not help but ask, my voice barely hiding my hurt, "Walter, if you don't make it back tonight, does that mean I play one of my 'forgiveness cards'?" I looked up at him, trying to steady my quivering voice. He tied his tie with practiced ease, his smile as unwavering as always. "You go ahead and use it." Walter ran his fingers through his hair, seemingly unfazed. "I'll be back before you know it, no need for 'forgiveness cards' today!" I watched him, his easygoing air making it hard to keep the tears from brimming in my eyes as I curled up under the covers. "Mm." The clock struck 10 at night, and he had promised he would return shortly. I had someone fetch my favorite pastries from the bakery I adored. Calvin had just uploaded a picture on social media, celebrating an outing with his girlfriend. Right then, Walter sent a text. [Caught up with Calvin, heading back soon.] Midnight was drawing near. I scrolled through my old social media posts, stopping at one I shared after accepting Walter's marriage proposal. I hit the button to bump it to the top of my feed. [Time sure does fly.] Walter left a heart in the comments. Next, he sent over a snapshot of his desk. [Buried at work, missing my wife.] I closed the chat with him, my interest waning. He must have forgotten that the photo he sent was one I took with his phone last month. It was not from today. He was not just lying; he was brushing me off. Janet's new post seemed like it was meant for my eyes. [You said you'd marry me when we grew up, but you went back on your word, and now you're full of regrets.] Their intertwined hands in the photo made it clear, the mole on Walter's index finger unmistakable. I sat on the couch, the proposal video Walter made playing in the background, the pastries I had bought beside me. The pastries I once savored then left a bland taste in my mouth. Perhaps my tastes changed. It was not just the pastries I had lost my taste for. Walter had gone radio silent. I tossed my phone on the coffee table and started to pack up my stuff. It was already midnight. I was about to officially run out of patience, ready to use up the last of my so-called 'forgiveness cards.' Just then, my phone buzzed—it was Walter. "Melissa, are you asleep? Don't wait up. I've got stuff to handle, and I won't make it home tonight. "Just use one of those forgiveness cards, okay? I'll bring you some pastries tomorrow. I have to go, bye." He hung up before I could even respond, leaving me with a dial tone. I set the phone down, a bit too hard, and knocked over a cup. Our engagement cup, the one we made together, shattered into two. Maybe it was a sign that our relationship was broken beyond repair. I opened the messenger and clicked on Walter's picture. [Didn't get to say this earlier, but I'm out of forgiveness cards.] [Let's get a divorce.] My phone started blowing up right after.