For our tenth wedding anniversary, my husband, Edward Collins, lit up the entire city with fireworks just for me. The neon lights of skyscrapers sparkled with his grand proclamation of love: [Emma, I will love you forever.] Our love was the envy of everyone—a romance so dazzling that the whole city knew our names. Every year, on my birthday, he’d charter a private yacht. On ordinary days, it was endless flowers and thoughtful gifts. To the world, I was the luckiest woman alive. But only I knew the truth. It was all for show—for her, the one who got away. Just hours ago, I found something in the inner pocket of Edward’s suit jacket—a carefully laminated photograph of him and his first love, taken ten years ago. On the back, in his unmistakable handwriting, were the words: [My one true love.] Ten years of what I thought was true love turned out to be nothing more than a cruel joke. Without a word, I left divorce papers on his desk, packed our child’s things, and walked out of the Collins villa. But after I was gone, Edward lost his mind. ***** I slid the photo back into his pocket, my fingers trembling. It was old, worn at the edges, but carefully laminated as if the owner had cherished it all these years. My chest tightened as I stared at my phone, typing the name “Amelia Moore” into the search bar. She was a travel blogger with a decent following, living abroad for years. She was also Edward’s first love. He had loved her deeply, and after she left the country, they hadn’t been in touch—or so I thought. The suit jacket where I’d found the photo? It was a custom anniversary gift we’d just ordered last week. The photo couldn’t have been placed there long ago. Scrolling through Amelia’s latest post, I saw her caption: [It’s been ten years. Don’t I deserve to chase my happiness too?] Beneath her words was a picture of a plane ticket back to the country. The date? Today. My vision blurred. My knees nearly buckled. I had married Edward, thinking that he’d let go of his past. For ten years, we lived what I thought was a perfect love—attentive, harmonious, like newlyweds. Now I realized he’d never truly moved on. Why? “Emma? What’s on your mind?” Edward’s familiar voice pulled me from my thoughts. I turned to see him holding a bag of desserts, tilting his head as he smiled at me, “Are you feeling lightheaded again? I stopped by the bakery and got your favorite.” He walked over and took my hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His eyes flickered to the suit in my hands. “Why are you doing this yourself? You could’ve asked one of the servants.” With a practiced nonchalance, he took the suit from me and hung it neatly on the rack. In that split second, I caught him glancing at the inner pocket. The relief on his face when he saw the photo still there was subtle but unmistakable. My heart sank deeper. Edward led me to the couch, frowning slightly. “Why are your hands so cold? Did you catch a chill last night?” I shook my head wordlessly, my mind in turmoil. Last night, Edward had orchestrated a city-wide spectacle of fireworks, declaring his love for me to the entire world. For a brief, shining moment, I’d believed I was the happiest woman alive. Now I knew the truth. Even as he proclaimed his eternal love for me, he kept a picture of his first love—right next to his heart. Overnight, I went from being on top to hitting rock bottom. Edward opened the dessert box and handed me a fork, his usual gentleness on full display. Before I could take a bite, his phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen and declined the call in one swift motion. The flicker of hesitation in his eyes didn’t escape me. “Who was that?” I asked softly. His response came smoothly as if he’d rehearsed it a hundred times. “Just the new manager at work—doesn’t know better than to call at this hour.” Edward smiled at me, his gaze filled with the same affection that used to make my heart flutter, “Off the clock, my priority is spending time with my wife.” Once, that smile had been my world. Now, it only made me sick. When his phone screen lit up earlier, I’d glimpsed the contact’s name—”My Love”. Edward was a man of precision—his phonebook was filled with full names, formal and exact. I’d teased him countless times to change my name to something more endearing, but he’d always refused, saying it would confuse his contacts. It wasn’t that he couldn’t. I just wasn’t special enough. How many of these sweet temptations have I fallen for? The phone rang again. Edward flinched, his fingers tightening as he ended the call. His restless gaze drifted to the window, where snow had begun to fall. He was growing impatient. Amelia was waiting for him at the airport. When the phone buzzed a third time, I finally spoke. “Eddie, if it’s urgent, you should go. Don’t keep them waiting.” He froze, studying my expression carefully. When I didn’t push further, his shoulders relaxed. Grabbing a tissue, he leaned down to gently wipe the corner of my mouth. “I’ll just pop into the office. I’ll be back soon. Don’t forget to have the nanny prepare a nutritious dinner for Harper.” Such a considerate husband. Even when leaving, he remembered to care for our child. I clenched my fists, the pain grounding me. It was this meticulous care that had blinded me for ten long years, hiding the truth that was now so clear. I watched Edward leave. His hurried steps were rare. Few things ever rattled his composure. Scooping a forkful of cake into my mouth, I let the sweetness melt on my tongue. But instead of comfort, it turned bitter. It used to be my favorite bakery, but somehow, the cake tasted bitter today. Maybe it was just me—my mood must’ve changed. I sat on the couch until it got dark, the dishes on the table left untouched and cold. My phone stayed silent the whole time. I guessed Edward really was “busy”. I walked into Harper’s room and knelt by her bed, tears falling as I gazed at her peaceful face. Upstairs, I opened the drawer where I kept our documents. The marriage certificate stared back at me, the embossed date mocking me. With trembling fingers, I picked up the phone and dialed. “Hello, I’d like to file for divorce.”
That night, I slept in Harper’s room. I didn’t know what time Edward came home. All I remembered was someone tucking the blanket over me and pressing a kiss on my forehead. The heavy scent of perfume on him was suffocating, enough to make me cough in my sleep. By morning, the snow had piled high outside. Once woken, I couldn’t fall back asleep, so I sat in the living room until dawn. My head was heavy, and though Edward sliced the breakfast toast neatly, I couldn’t bring myself to eat. Looking up, I noticed a rare smile tugging at his lips. He seemed to be in an unusually good mood. Meeting my gaze, Edward spoke, “Emma, I booked the top floor of the downtown hotel for tonight.” I frowned. Hadn’t we just held an event there two days ago? Seeing my confusion, Edward explained effortlessly, “Harper’s seventh birthday is coming up. I thought we could celebrate early.” I said nothing. I had originally planned to send Harper back to my hometown today. But hearing Edward’s words, she was so thrilled I couldn’t bear to disappoint her. So, I nodded. The downtown top-floor venue required reservations far in advance. For Edward to secure it on a whim, he must have shelled out a hefty sum. But for what purpose? When we arrived at the venue, I finally understood. The massive screens displayed photo after photo of our little family, brimming with sweetness. Every guest marveled at our perfect love story, praising us as a model couple. Listening to the familiar compliments, I looked at the corner. It was Amelia. Dressed in a simple white gown, she sat quietly in the shadows. Her eyes were swollen red as if she had spent the entire night crying. A bitter smile tugged at my lips. I finally understood Edward’s intent. Two grand celebrations in quick succession, flaunting his devotion to his wife and child—It was all to provoke Amelia. Her doe-like eyes were fixed on Edward, brimming with heartbreak, making her look utterly pitiable. And yet, Edward held Harper in his arms, not sparing Amelia a single glance. Amelia’s trembling hands clutched the hem of her dress, her grief barely contained. Clearly, Edward’s plan was working. I clung to Edward’s arm, my dizziness growing. It seemed I had caught a cold after all. Tugging at his sleeve gently, I gestured to let him know I wanted to rest. Edward turned, his gaze accidentally brushing past Amelia in the corner. His broad shoulders stiffened for a fleeting moment, his calm mask slipping. But he quickly steadied himself. He gripped my hand and led me to the lounge. Seated with Harper on his lap, his eyes kept straying toward Amelia’s direction. It was only a matter of time before he lost control. I closed my eyes to rest, but it wasn’t long before the host’s voice echoed through the hall, calling for the birthday girl to cut the cake. Instinctively reaching out, I realized Edward was no longer by my side. Harper tugged at my dress, her small voice filled with curiosity. “Where’s Daddy?” I patted her head, taking her hand as we walked onto the stage. When the host asked about Edward, I simply smiled, “No need to wait. He won’t be joining us.” After cutting the cake and watching Harper run off with the other children, I felt lightheaded. The room was too stifling. Stepping out the back door into the garden, I took a deep breath, letting the cold air soothe me. But then I heard Edward’s voice. “You left me. Now you’re playing the victim—what’s the point?” A woman’s voice answered sharply, “Edward, you bastard. You promised you’d wait for me forever.” Edward laughed softly, his tone cold, “I have wealth and status, Amelia. The last thing I need is another woman. You saw tonight—I’m doing just fine without you.” There was a stunned silence, followed by a bitter laugh from Amelia. “You mean her? Emma and her daughter? Edward, be honest with yourself—do you even love them?” Silence stretched between them, heavy and unbroken. Then, without warning, Amelia stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. In the falling snow, Edward didn’t pull away. Instead, he gently wrapped his arm around her waist. They embraced like lovers, reuniting after years apart. It wasn’t until snowflakes dotted my hair that I realized I had been standing there, frozen. My hands felt so cold that they were nearly numb. Slowly, I pulled out my phone and dialed Edward’s number. The ringtone echoed for a long time before he finally picked up. “Where are you?” I asked softly. Still holding Amelia, Edward’s ears were flushed red, but his tone was flawless. “I spilled some wine on my suit and went to clean up in the changing room. Emma, stay put—I’ll come find you in a bit.” My breath misted in the cold air as I stared at their entwined silhouettes. My heart felt like it was freezing solid. “Edward,” I whispered, “turn around.”
The two of them, tightly entwined, froze in place. When Edward turned and saw me, he instinctively shoved Amelia away with force. Amelia stumbled, falling to the ground, staring up at him in disbelief. Edward staggered toward me, panic etched on his face. I ended the call and turned to leave, but he grabbed my wrist. “Emma, it’s not what it looks like,” he stammered, his voice trembling. “I wasn’t… She and I aren’t—” I lowered my gaze and cut him off softly. “No need to explain, Edward. I’m tired.” His desperate attempts to hold me back only deepened my exhaustion. I should’ve let go the moment I saw the photos. But I’d stubbornly dragged myself to this humiliating moment instead. “Behind us, Amelia sat on the ground, her voice trembling as she called out to him, “”Eddie…””” Hearing her utter that nickname awakened a long-buried memory in me. When we were newlyweds, Edward used to hold me close, nuzzling into my neck as he pleaded over and over, “Emma, call me Eddie from now on, won’t you?” I’d been too shy back then, refusing no matter how much he begged. I never understood why he adored such a childish name. At the time, I’d thought it was his special way of cherishing me. Now, I realized—it was Amelia who liked it. Edward turned to look at Amelia, still on the ground. Surprise flickered across his face before being replaced by an unmistakable tenderness. But his hand remained firmly on mine, torn between the two of us. After a moment, he gritted his teeth and faced me. “Emma, just listen to me—I can explain. It’s not what you think.” I stared at him silently. The more I stayed quiet, the more flustered he became. “Emma, don’t do this, okay? I… I can’t lose you.” The moment he said that, Amelia’s face turned ashen. I lifted my eyes to meet Edward’s evasive gaze. “Edward,” I said, my voice calm yet deliberate. “A lie repeated a thousand times—aren’t you afraid you’ll start believing it yourself?” Edward froze, the meaning of my words clearly sinking in. For a brief moment, his face was blank with confusion. I gently pushed his hand away and walked over to Amelia, helping her to her feet. She looked at me, her eyes filled with bewilderment. She was stunning in a way that was completely different from me. It wasn’t hard to see why Edward had held onto her in his heart for so many years. I took her hand and placed it in Edward’s. Looking up at him, I forced a faint smile. “Don’t make the wrong choice this time.” My chest ached, but I turned and staggered back through the rear door, leaving them behind. As soon as I stepped inside, my legs gave out, and I collapsed to the ground. That night, I burned with a high fever. Edward stayed by my bedside, silent and pensive. It seemed my words earlier had struck a nerve. He clasped my hand against his forehead, his voice trembling as he pleaded, “Emma, give me another chance, please. I can’t lose you.” I opened my eyes weakly, looking at him. It was like seeing the young man from ten years ago, kneeling on one knee, proposing to me. Back then, I’d thought life was long, and I had all the time in the world to make him love me. Looking back now, I realized I’d lost from the very start. When he noticed I was awake, Edward’s eyes widened in relief. “Emma, you’re awake! How are you feeling?” Even now, he was still keeping up his act of care and concern. He was so absorbed in his performance that he’d likely convinced even himself. I couldn’t summon the strength to lift my eyelids fully. My voice was hoarse as I replied, “Edward, I forgive you. I’m not leaving.” If he wanted to act, I’d play along until the very end. A flicker of joy flashed in his eyes, but before he could speak, his phone rang. The name on the screen was glaringly familiar. Edward glanced at me awkwardly before picking up the call. “Eddie, I hurt my foot and didn’t bring my ID. Can you come to the hospital?” Amelia’s voice was calm and unhurried, clearly unbothered by the supposed “emergency”. She had no doubt about her place in Edward’s heart. She must’ve known I was sick and needed care, yet she’d chosen to call now. It was deliberate. I didn’t even need to guess how Edward would respond. Sure enough, he shot up from his chair, his voice filled with urgency. “Emma, she just got back to the country. It’s hard for her to handle things alone. And she’s only hurt because of me. I’ll just go check on her quickly.” The excuse was flawless as if he’d completely forgotten I was lying there with a raging fever. I let out a soft “Mm,” too drained to argue. “Go ahead.” “After he left, I grabbed my phone and booked a flight for 2 p.m. the next day. Then, I asked the housekeeper to bring me the divorce papers that had arrived yesterday. Without hesitation, I signed my name in the bottom-right corner.”
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