Chapter 1 Chapter 1

I rubbed my stomach, still sore from the miscarriage, and thought, 'I'm sorry, little one. You came at the wrong time.' Swallowing both physical and emotional pain, I replayed Melanie Jacobson's video. Her flushed cheeks, sparkling eyes, and overflowing affection filled the screen. Below, comments were already flooding in. [I was there! I swear, Steven and Melanie were full-on French kissing!] [Wow! Steven's got moves. No wonder she looks so dazed. Did you see Lanie's face?] [Still stands: women outside smell sweeter than the wife at home!] The video ended as they finally pulled apart, after what felt like forever. More teasing comments piled up, and Melanie selectively replied to a few. Melanie: [Come on, guys, don't start rumors! Steve and I are just bros—good pals!] Melanie: [Keep saying things like that, and Roly-Poly might get mad, lol!] The "Roly-Poly" she referred to? That would be me, Anya Rouse. When I was a kid, I had to take steroids for a medical condition, which pushed my weight up to 120 pounds. These days, I weighed just 90 pounds, even slimmer than Melanie herself. Yet, she still clung to that nickname, especially when Steven Cobham was around. My chest tightened, as if a rock was pressing down on it. Thus, this was why Steven dropped a multimillion-dollar deal today to be a groomsman at an ex-classmate's wedding. I had assumed it was brotherhood that pulled him there—but it turned out his first love, Melanie, was the bridesmaid. How foolish I had been. I knew it was time to end this relationship. … It was late when Steven stumbled home, reeking of alcohol. Bright red lipstick smudged his pristine white shirt. He called my name a few times, but I stayed in bed, unmoving. Drunkenly, he buried his head into my chest, coaxing, "Honey, I'm sorry. It was just a game with Lanie. I was the groomsman, she was the bridesmaid. I didn't have a choice." Really? No choice? Because the look in his eyes during that kiss—the delight, the pride—was impossible to miss. When I didn't respond, he rubbed his head against my chest, trying to charm me. "Honey, forgive me, okay?" In the past, his puppy-dog act would have melted my anger instantly. Now, the image of him and Melanie's kiss made me feel sick. I pushed him away and rolled to the far side of the bed. Upon sensing my rejection, Steven's playful demeanor turned to anger. "Anya, I apologized already! What more do you want?" he snapped. "Everyone was just messing around at the wedding. You're the only one taking it seriously! I've been running around all day. Can't you stop with the tantrums?" His voice grew harsher. "Why can't you learn from Lanie? She's so understanding! What's your problem? And we're married. What more do you want from me?"

Chapter 2 Chapter 2

Right, Steven and I dated for seven years and were married for five. Back in school, my pursuit of him had been practically the talk of the campus. After getting married, we moved into my parents' unused villa. I had handed over my savings to help him start a business, and my father had pulled every string he could to make it a success. Within five years, Steven became the sought-after Mr. Cobham. At our wedding, he had vowed in front of everyone, "Anya, I swear to love and cherish you forever." I believed him so much that I quietly stepped out of the spotlight, giving him full control of the company. However, his newfound wealth had brought along his high school crush, Melanie, whom he hired as his personal assistant. In the past, I might have thrown a tantrum, screamed, or cried. Every time I did, Steven would look down on me, scolding me for being unreasonable and insecure. What he didn't know was that while he had been busy kissing Melanie today, I had bled while drinking with a company client. It was only when I was sent to the hospital that I found out I had been pregnant—and miscarrying. I had called him several times, but he had declined every call. I later realized he had been too busy with Melanie to even notice me. Suddenly, I felt like none of this mattered anymore. I sighed with a wry smile, looking at Steven's self-righteousness. The thunder outside roared louder, mirroring my feelings. "Steven, let's divorce," I said finally. "The house and car are mine. They were premarital assets. We'll split the company 50-50." His eyes widened in disbelief. "Anya, are you insane? I just kissed her! You're divorcing me over this? I didn't know you were such a petty, narrow-minded woman!" Before I could respond, his phone rang. The voice on the other end was light and sweet. "Steve, it's storming, and I'm scared. I'm all alone. Can you come over and keep me company?" Melanie asked. Steven gently reassured her, "Don't worry, Lanie. I'll be there soon." His voice was softer than I had ever heard him speak to me. After hanging up, he turned to me, his face cold and emotionless. "Anya, I know you're just upset. I'll give you some time to cool off." I watched as the man I once loved deeply turned into someone I didn't know. I grabbed his sleeve, desperation leaking into my voice. "Steven, don't go. Stay with me. Please." His expression darkened further. "Can you stop being so unreasonable? Lanie's terrified of storms! How can I leave her alone?" Without another word, he walked out the door. I curled up in the corner as thunder shook the house. I was also scared of the storm. When I was a kid, my parents had always been busy working. During storms, I would cling to my stuffed toys, trembling. Steven had once promised me he would always be there to hold me through the storms. He had said, "Anya, from now on, I'll be by your side during every storm." But tonight, he chose someone else. He was worried about Melanie being scared at home alone—but I was alone too. … Half an hour later, Melanie posted a photo: two hands intertwined. A green Rolex adorned one wrist, the cuff of a crisp white shirt framing the hand—unmistakably Steven's. Yet, his wedding ring was gone, leaving only a faint mark behind. Her caption read: [OMG, my clingy little puppy braved the storm to come keep me company!]

Chapter 3 Chapter 3

The string in my mind suddenly snapped. At that moment, everything became clear. Seven years of love couldn't compete with a single sweet sentence from Melanie. My soul felt drained from my body. Exhausted, I collapsed into bed and fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up the next morning, as expected, Steven still wasn't home. My stomach growled, so I opened my phone and searched for a restaurant I'd always wanted to try. If my heart couldn't be full, at least my stomach could be. … After driving to the restaurant, I walked in and froze. There they were—Steven and Melanie—leaning close to each other, like a pair of love-struck teenagers. Steven noticed me first, his expression souring with irritation. "Anya, are you stalking me now?" His voice was sharp, cutting. "How pathetic can you get?" I sighed, weary beyond words. It felt like a cruel joke that I had to witness this scene. "No, I'm just here to eat," I replied. This restaurant was a famous romantic hotspot I had mentioned to Steven countless times, hoping he would take me there. Each time, he'd brush me off, saying, "I don't like that kind of food. If you want to go, go by yourself." Now here he was, sitting across from Melanie and treating her to a lavish couple's set menu. Every detail screamed romance—from the paired utensils to the heart-shaped steaks. Melanie giggled and leaned toward him. "Steve, this place is amazing. I love it!" Steven's face lit up as he replied, "If you like it, I'll bring you here again." His words pierced my heart like a knife. The server approached them with a bright smile. "Excuse me, couples dining here can take a photo together to win a free ride on our Ferris wheel!" Melanie's eyes sparkled as she exclaimed, "Steve, let's do it! Hugging at the top of the Ferris wheel would be so romantic!" Steven affectionately patted her head. "Sure, anything you want, Lanie." They snapped a photo together, with the Ferris wheel as the backdrop. Steven displayed it prominently on the most visible part of the restaurant's wall. Melanie noticed me sitting there and approached with a smug smile. "Roly-Poly—oh, wait, I mean Anya. Please don't take this the wrong way. Steve's just trying to fulfill my little dream, that's all. There's nothing between us." From across the room, Steven shot me a disdainful look. His earlier warmth evaporated in an instant. He slung an arm around Melanie possessively. "Lanie, why waste time explaining to her? Someone like Anya doesn't even enjoy romantic things." He added, "Let's go. I heard making a wish at the top of the Ferris wheel makes it come true." Melanie beamed with excitement. "Really? Then I'll wish for a husband just like you, Steve!" He laughed indulgently. "Silly girl, I'm right here." Watching them walk away arm in arm, I finally understood—it was time to let go. The food in front of me went untouched as I fled the restaurant. … When I got home, I packed my belongings into a suitcase. My eyes landed on the wedding photo hanging on the wall. In the picture, Steven and I were kissing, brimming with happiness. It mocked me now. Without a second thought, I ripped it off the wall and tossed it into the trash. Seven years of dating Steven had brought moments of joy. I remembered the mornings when he'd kiss me awake, the pots of soothing tea he'd brew for me during my periods, and the way he'd comfort me through tough times. I thought he'd always be that man. But since Melanie came back into his life, everything had changed. Now, I didn't want to spend another second in this house. The property was mine, after all. I'd deal with it after the divorce. Before leaving, I placed the divorce papers on the dining table. Love earned through self-sacrifice would never be equal. This time, Steven, it would really be goodbye.