I’ve been married to Jameson Ramos for five years, but he’s broken his promises to me 99 times for Nora Peterson. After he broke another promise this time, I found two plane tickets to France in his office. Jameson said coldly, “I was planning to surprise you on our wedding anniversary. Since you’ve already seen them, I’ll meet you at the airport.” I packed my bags early and went to the airport, waiting from morning until late at night, but Jameson never showed up. Then I saw Nora’s Instagram post: [Today’s my birthday. Even though he didn’t have time to go to France with me, I’ll forgive him since he took me to the amusement park.] If this had happened before, I would have called Jameson crying and demanding answers. But this time, I was truly exhausted. ***** The airport was cold at night, and it was pouring rain outside. Nora’s Instagram post stung my eyes. I gripped my phone tightly, fighting the urge to throw it away. This was the 101st time Jameson had broken a promise to me. I couldn’t help trembling, and all hope in my heart had completely vanished. A week ago, because Nora was locked out of her house, Jameson left the banquet in front of everyone, abandoning me there to endure endless mockery. The venue was in a remote location, and my good friend Eliana Roberts had to drive me home after it ended. I stayed angry for a long time, until I discovered those two plane tickets to France in Jameson’s office. After being caught, he said coldly, “I was planning to surprise you on our wedding anniversary. Since you’ve already seen them, I’ll meet you at the airport.” I knew he was trying to appease me. Every time he broke a promise because of Nora, he would prepare gifts for me. I was always too soft-hearted, easily forgiving him after he coaxed me a little. But this time, I only felt endless exhaustion. It was raining and windy outside the airport, making me sneeze involuntarily. There were few people around, and I had to pay double on the ride-sharing app before finally getting a driver at 1 AM. When I got home and turned on the lights, I was startled to find Jameson sitting silently in the living room. With his arms crossed, Jameson immediately confronted me when he saw me: “It’s so late and you’re just getting home. Where have you been?” I didn’t want to talk and just pulled my suitcase toward the stairs. After waiting at the airport all day, I felt completely drained. Jameson was somewhat angry and grabbed my hand: “Answer me!” Looking at my hand in his grip, I felt disappointed: “Where did I go? Take a guess – where could I go with a suitcase?” With that, I angrily pushed the suitcase toward him. But Jameson completely forgot about our arrangement and kicked the suitcase aside: “Great, you’ve really grown bold, trying to run off without saying anything. Do you even consider me your husband? Don’t you know to check in with me?” I was so angry at Jameson’s twisted logic that I laughed coldly: “Mr. Ramos, you’re really too busy and forgetful – you even forgot about your own flight to France. But that makes sense, since you were busy playing at the amusement park with Nora. How could you possibly think of me?” A flash of guilt crossed Jameson’s expression, but he quickly became impatient: “You know I’m busy with work, and Nora and I grew up together. She has no parents – she just wanted me to spend one birthday with her. Is that really such a big deal?” I felt truly disgusted because he always used the same excuse. Just because they grew up together and Nora had no parents, no matter what, as long as she wanted something, Jameson would drop everything and put her needs first, even ranking me after Nora. Now, because of Nora’s birthday, he had left me stranded at the airport for an entire day. I fell silent, finding his words utterly ridiculous. Jameson gripped my hand tightly. I struggled to pry his fingers away, then said calmly, “Okay, I understand I was wrong. I’m sorry.” If this had been before, I would have argued with Jameson endlessly. But now my heart felt completely numb – I just wanted to end this conversation quickly and go upstairs to rest. Looking at me, Jameson froze. He stared at me for a long time, as if trying to detect something unusual. But soon he relaxed: “As long as you understand me. Tomorrow after I finish my work, I’ll take you to the resort.” With that, Jameson walked past me up the stairs. I nodded casually, then opened my phone to contact my good friend Eliana, whom I hadn’t seen in days. As expected, during tomorrow’s resort trip, Jameson would still be called away by Nora for various reasons. Since that was the case, I might as well go with Eliana instead and prepare for divorce proceedings. Once I was divorced, no matter how much Jameson did for Nora, it would have nothing to do with me anymore.
I hurried through my shower and returned to the bedroom. Jameson wasn’t asleep yet. He glanced at me, then immediately turned his back to me. I walked over to him with practiced ease and silently began massaging his back. After a while, he turned his head and looked at me with displeasure. “Didn’t you eat dinner?” I didn’t answer, just looked at him quietly. He grew irritated. “What, are you mute now?” This was the warning sign of Jameson’s temper flaring up. He always liked to nitpick over these trivial matters until I admitted fault. I couldn’t help but respond sarcastically, “How would I dare eat? I was terrified of missing Mr. Ramos’s arrival.” Jameson fell silent for a moment, then coughed awkwardly. “Well, if you were hungry, couldn’t you have found something to eat yourself? Just sitting there waiting like an idiot. How stupid. Whatever, you don’t need to massage me tonight. Get some rest.” Seeing Jameson’s patronizing expression, I didn’t argue. I simply lay down with my back to him. The person behind me didn’t move for a long time, taking a deep breath before finally turning off the lights. This was my first night not trying every trick in the book to fall asleep in Jameson’s arms. By the time I got up and went downstairs, it was already quite late. Jameson hadn’t gone to the office today—instead, he was sitting on the couch reading. He wore light-framed glasses and casual clothes, looking gentle and composed, just like when I first met him. For a moment, I thought the old Jameson had returned. But his words immediately shattered that illusion. “What are you standing there for? Can’t you see I’m waiting for you? Hurry up.” Jameson’s eyes held nothing but impatience and arrogance. I nodded and quickly finished the breakfast on the table, which had long gone cold. After cleaning up, I stood beside him. Jameson looked me up and down, frowning at my t-shirt and pants. “Being ugly is one thing, but don’t you know how to dress nicely? Ugly and lazy—only I would want you.” Now that I’d stepped out of my infatuation with Jameson, I realized how disgusting this phrase he often said really was. I used to treasure these words, treating them as proof of his love for me. I rolled my eyes internally, nodded, and said nothing. Not receiving the expected coquettish response and shyness from me, Jameson fell silent for a moment before saying, “Whatever. Since I’m making it up to you today, I won’t hold it against you.” We got in the car soon after. The ride was silent except for Jameson’s phone constantly ringing. Only Nora would dare disturb him so brazenly. Jameson showed no irritation, pulling over to the side of the road and immediately answering the call. I propped my head on my hand and looked out the window, occasionally hearing Jameson’s gentle murmurs. Nora seemed to be acting coquettish on the other end, making Jameson’s tone increasingly helpless and indulgent. This was the first time I’d heard Jameson speak in such a tone, because he’d never spoken to me that way. At that moment, his tone was so sickeningly sweet it made me want to vomit. After coaxing Nora, the indulgence in Jameson’s voice hadn’t completely faded when he immediately told me to get out of the car. “I’ll come find you later.” I was abandoned on the roadside. Watching Jameson start the car and drive away, my heart felt incredibly bitter. He wouldn’t come back, just like the ninety-nine times before when he’d broken his promises to me. Ten minutes later, Eliana drove up. Rolling down her window, she looked at me and snorted coldly. “I told you from the beginning—being a housewife never ends well.”
Eliana was right. Everyone knew that I had pursued Jameson for three years in college. In the end, because we slept together, he had no choice but to marry me. I had strong design talent and originally had the opportunity to study in Paris. But to marry Jameson, I gave it up without hesitation. I chose to be a housewife and learned cooking, massage, and other skills I had never learned at home, all for Jameson. I ignored the harsh criticism from my teachers and parents, ignored the advice from my close friends, just wanting to stay by Jameson’s side. I shook my head, pushing these thoughts out of my mind, and smiled at Eliana: “I called you here today because I hope you can help me draft a divorce agreement.” Hearing my words, Eliana was shocked and immediately pulled me into the car. Listening to her chatter on about many things, shouting about fighting for more rights for me and helping me escape from that bastard as soon as possible, I felt an unprecedented sense of relief in my heart. The grievance of being abandoned by Jameson on the roadside gradually dissipated. To celebrate my upcoming freedom in advance, Eliana took me out to have fun and wouldn’t let me go home until dawn, not even letting me check my phone. By the time I saw the messages, Jameson had nearly blown up my phone with calls and was constantly sending me texts. When I was about to reply to him, I discovered he had already blocked me. I didn’t care about this and blocked him too, even going so far as to delete him entirely. Early the next morning when I returned home, I saw Nora’s figure. She was holding a breakfast tray. Upon seeing me, she quickly ran over and grabbed my hand: “You’re back! Come sit down.” Nora spoke as if she were the lady of the house. She leaned close to my ear and whispered: “Abigail Lopez, thank you for staying out all night. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have come here. But even if you were here, I’d still come in the future.” After saying this, she looked at me smugly. Nora was bright and lovely, while I looked haggard because I had only focused on Jameson after becoming a housewife. If this had been before, seeing her would have only made me smile bitterly with inferiority. But this time, I didn’t get angry as she had hoped. Instead, I smiled faintly: “Really? Then welcome to visit. Please make yourself at home.” The divorce agreement that Eliana had prepared for me was still in my bag. At this moment, I just wanted to hand it to Jameson as soon as possible. But Nora held my hand and wouldn’t let go, chattering on about wanting me to teach her how to make breakfast, saying she wanted to learn so she could cook for Jameson. I didn’t know when Jameson had come downstairs. He strode down quickly, positioning himself between Nora and me. He looked somewhat tired and very displeased: “Abigail, what are you planning to do to Nora now?” But Nora shook her head and said, “Jameson, don’t be like this. Abigail didn’t do anything to me.” Listening to Nora’s hypocritical words, I felt utterly disgusted. I took a step back and said, “Didn’t you hear? I didn’t do anything.” However, Jameson’s expression grew even darker. He pointed at me and scolded, “You think I’d believe you? I just saw with my own eyes that you were about to push her. You’ve always liked targeting her. She hasn’t appeared in front of you for so long, and now what are you planning to do to her? You wanted to hit her right in front of me—you’re really spoiled rotten.” However, Jameson’s expression grew even darker. He pointed at me and scolded, “You think I’d believe you? I just saw with my own eyes that you were about to push her. You’ve always liked targeting her. She hasn’t appeared in front of you for so long, and now what are you planning to do to her? You wanted to hit her right in front of me—you’re really spoiled rotten.” I had only pulled Nora’s hand slightly, yet Jameson gave me a complete lecture. How ridiculous. At that moment, Nora stood behind Jameson, looking at me smugly. This wasn’t the first time Jameson had favored Nora. I thought back to that cross necklace I had made by hand. It was my first time learning to make something. After struggling for a whole week, I barely managed to complete it. But when I carefully wrapped it up and delivered it to Jameson’s desk during his work hours, all I got was a mocking comment: “It’s as ugly and tacky as you are. Take it away.” I felt deeply frustrated and vowed to make a better one next time. But before I could even take it back, Nora snatched it away. “I think it’s adorable. Abigail, can you give it to me?” Nora looked innocent and sweet, her eyes bright as she gazed at the cross necklace. Jameson answered for me directly. However, just half a day later, I saw Nora casually throw it into the trash can. I was furious and immediately rushed forward, slapping Nora in front of Jameson’s assistant, Logan Cook. Afterward, Nora covered her face and cried, saying, “Abigail snatched the cross necklace and threw it in the trash, then slapped me. I don’t know why Abigail has such malice toward me when I haven’t done anything.” Even Logan, the only person who witnessed what happened, sided with her, saying I was vicious. Jameson was extremely disappointed in me and told me to leave immediately, saying I was never allowed to appear at his company again. Back then, all I could do was cry and beg Jameson not to ignore me. But Jameson showed no compromise and directly ordered Logan to take me home immediately. Thinking about it now, I really want to slap my former self. My expression remained completely calm, not wanting to explain too much to Jameson. Then I pulled out a divorce agreement from my bag: “Since you’re home, why don’t you sign this document.”
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