After losing control while drunk, I slept with the boy next door. He’s an extremely responsible person, so he proposed to me after sobering up. It wasn’t until later that I found out his most beloved woman had left the country that night. So I hid my deep feelings and became his obedient and virtuous wife in name only in this wealthy family. On countless quiet nights, we were incredibly in sync, yet kept our distance. My friends all said I would never be able to lGronaeave him, and I thought so too. Until one day, when I discovered his second phone. While he was in the shower, a girl sent a selfie of herself. “Mr. Brown, thank you for the birthday gift.” She was a very young girl with delicate features. But she was wearing expensive clothes that didn’t match her age, so she looked a bit uncomfortable. I stared at it for a long time, until my eyes stung. I had always known there was someone in Arlo’s life, but I never imagined it would be a girl like this. Beyond my heartache, I was also surprised by my husband’s preferences. I thought to myself, I’m sorry for discovering Arlo’s secret. A moment later, Arlo came out with steam rising from his body. “How long are you going to look at that?” He snatched the phone from my hand, glanced at me, and started getting dressed. There wasn’t a hint of embarrassment on his face at being caught by his wife. I knew his confidence came from his control over the family finances. Because I was the one being kept at home, even though I used to be a well-known pianist in the country before we married. I didn’t confront him about the photo. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Seeing he was about to go out, I quickly spoke up. “Arlo, I have something I want to talk to you about.” He fastened his belt leisurely and looked at me. “I have five minutes. The driver is waiting downstairs.” I guessed where he was going and my eyes darkened. “Arlo, I want to go out and work.” Arlo turned to look at me, staring for a while. Then he took out a checkbook from his pocket, wrote down a number, tore it out and handed it to me. “Isn’t it nice being a full-time housewife at home? Work isn’t suitable for you.” He was about to leave after saying that. I chased after him, taking a very humble stance. “I’m not afraid of hard work. I want to go out and work. I can play the piano.” The man had no patience to listen further. In his mind, I was like a delicate vine. Used to being taken care of, completely unsuited for working outside, and unable to endure hardship. Arlo looked at his watch. Time was up. He left this home without any reluctance. I couldn’t stop him, only managing to urgently ask as he gripped the doorknob. “My dad’s birthday is on Saturday. Do you have time?” Arlo paused. “We’ll see.” The door closed softly. A moment later, the sound of a car starting came from downstairs, gradually fading into the distance. A few minutes later, the housekeeper came upstairs. “Sir is going to H City for a few days. He said it’s for something important.” “Also, a batch of Sir’s clothes just arrived for washing. Madam, should we send them to the cleaners or would you like to hand wash and iron them yourself?” They knew my relationship with Arlo was strained. In this house, they were the messengers between Arlo and me. I knelt on the sofa, taking a while to come back to my senses before softly saying, “I’ll wash them by hand.” Because Arlo didn’t like the smell of dry cleaning solvents. So almost all of Arlo’s clothes, including suits and coats, were hand washed and ironed by me. Besides this, Arlo had high standards in other areas too. He didn’t like eating out, and he didn’t like any mess in the bedroom, so I learned cooking and flower arranging. He never took this wife to heart, only marrying me because of an accident. I gradually became the perfect housewife, and my life revolved almost entirely around Arlo. But Arlo still didn’t love me. I lowered my head and stared at the check. Last year my family business failed. My father suddenly fell ill from the shock, costing over six figures every month. Every time I went home, my stepmother complained that I took too little from Arlo. “He’s the CEO of Brown Pharmaceutical Group, worth billions.” “Grona, isn’t he your husband? Doesn’t that mean everything he has is yours too?” I smiled bitterly. How could anything of Arlo’s be mine? Arlo didn’t love me and was very cold to me usually. Our marriage only had sex, no love. He wouldn’t even let me have his child. Every time we slept together, he would remind me to take birth control. Yes, I had to take the pills. I felt for the pill bottle, took one out, and swallowed it numbly. After taking the pill, I gently pulled open a small drawer. Inside was a thick diary, filled with 18-year-old me’s deep love for Arlo. Ten years. I had loved him for a full ten years. I quietly closed my eyes. This one-sided play seemed like I could no longer keep acting it out. I didn’t wait for Arlo to come back. My dad had another acute attack and entered the ICU. The situation was very critical and he needed immediate surgery. I stood in the hospital hallway calling Arlo over and over, but no one answered after several tries. Just as I was about to give up, Arlo answered. Afraid he would lose patience and hang up the next second, I spoke rapidly: “Arlo, my dad—” But my words were still cut off by Arlo. His tone carried a hint of impatience: “Do you need money?” “I’ve said many times, if you urgently need money just ask Secretary Quinn. Grona, are you listening?” I looked up at the electronic screen, my expression dazed. It was playing today’s news. The CEO of Brown Pharmaceutical Group had rented out the entire Disneyland for a night of fireworks to please a beauty. Under the dazzling fireworks, a young girl sat in a wheelchair, smiling sweetly and innocently. And my husband Arlo stood behind the wheelchair. He was holding his phone, talking to me. I blinked slowly. After a long while, my voice carried a hint of brokenness: “Arlo, where are you?” There was a pause on the other end. He seemed very unhappy with my questioning, but still perfunctorily said: “Still busy. If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up. Contact Secretary Quinn.” He didn’t notice my near-tears tone, but his gaze looking down at the person beside him was very gentle, so very gentle. My vision blurred. So Arlo could be this gentle after all. My stepmother’s voice came from behind: “Did you get in touch with Arlo? If Arlo doesn’t help, there’s no way we can handle this.” But her words stopped abruptly, because she also saw the scene on the electronic screen. After a while, my stepmother finally found her voice again. “Grona, I just don’t believe that when Arlo was in a coma, this Maeve girl playing the piano could wake him up.” “Even if that’s true, is this how you repay someone? He can’t even remember your birthday.” My stepmother got more and more angry as she spoke. Thinking of the Grona family’s situation, she couldn’t help but shed tears. “But Grona, you have to be clear-headed. Don’t cause trouble with Arlo at a time like this.” I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms, but I couldn’t feel any pain. Cause trouble with Arlo? I wouldn’t. Not because I’m a sensible Mrs. Brown who knows better. But because I have no right as the unloved wife. The title is just an empty shell. I stared at the sky full of fireworks and said very softly: “All those fireworks must cost a lot of money, right?” My stepmother didn’t understand what I meant. I lowered my eyes and started dialing Secretary Quinn’s number. Disturbing someone’s sleep in the middle of the night is always unpleasant. Secretary Quinn had been by Arlo’s side for a long time and held a high position. Moreover, he knew Arlo didn’t care about this wife. So after hearing my request, his tone was cold and aggressive. “Mrs. Brown, you need to apply first and have Mr. Brown sign off before you can get a check.” “Just like the jewelry you wear, it needs to be registered before use.” “Madam, do you understand what I mean?” I hung up the phone. I lowered my head, very quiet. After a while, I looked up at myself in the glass, gently raised my hand. On my slender ring finger was my wedding diamond ring. This was the only thing on me that didn’t need to be requested from Arlo, didn’t need to be registered and reported to his secretary. How pathetic I was as Mrs. Brown. I blinked dazedly and suddenly said: “Help me find someone to sell the wedding ring.” My stepmother was stunned: “Grona, have you gone crazy?” I slowly turned around. In the desolate lobby late at night, even my footsteps sounded lonely. After walking a few steps, I paused, then said firmly: “Auntie, I’m very clear-headed. I’ve never been this clear-headed before. I want to divorce Arlo.” Three days later, Arlo returned home. Arlo pushed open the bedroom door to see me sitting at the dressing table organizing items. He put down his luggage, loosened his tie, and sat on the bed examining me. After marriage, I always enjoyed doing housework, organizing things, making snacks. If I didn’t still hold the title of Mrs. Brown Group, in Arlo’s heart I was really no different from a housekeeper. For a long time I didn’t speak. Arlo was also tired from his business trip. Seeing I didn’t speak, he was too lazy to say anything. He went straight to the closet, took a bathrobe and went to the shower. While showering, he probably thought that with my weak personality, by the time he finished I would have calmed down. Then I would continue to be a gentle wife. He was so certain I would always love him like this. So when he walked out of the bathroom and found his suitcase still in its original place, he felt it necessary to talk to me. Arlo sat down on the sofa, casually picked up a magazine to read. After a while, he looked up at me and said: “How is your father’s condition?” “I’ve already reprimanded Secretary Quinn about that night.” He spoke lightly, without much sincerity. I put down what I was holding and looked up to meet his gaze in the mirror. In the mirror, Arlo’s features were deep-set and his aura was noble. Even a bathrobe looked better on him than others. I looked for a long time, until my eyes were sore, before saying very calmly: “Arlo, let’s get divorced.”
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