On the tenth anniversary of my marriage to Ryan Thompson, I discovered he was cheating. I had no photos, no evidence. My only reason for suspicion was that he said “Good morning” to me when he woke up. After ten years of saying “Morning,” he suddenly switched to “Good morning.” When the private investigator sent the photos, I was sitting in my usual cafe at my usual time, drinking my usual cappuccino. The steam from the coffee blurred the images on my phone screen, but the content was crystal clear. Ryan had indeed been unfaithful. The other woman was barely twenty, twelve years younger than me. Seeing him gazing lovingly at her, I set down my coffee cup. Today’s coffee tasted bitter. I first suspected his infidelity two days ago. That morning, he woke up looking cheerful, wearing a hoodie instead of his usual dark suit. Then he said, “Good morning” to me. They say a woman’s intuition is accurate. It certainly was. That morning, without photos, evidence, or any woman causing a scene, I knew my husband of ten years had strayed. After he left that day, I called a private investigator. Today’s results merely confirmed what I already knew. I felt oddly calm, so calm that I wondered if I had already lost all feelings for Ryan. I saved the photos, paid the investigator’s final fee, settled my coffee bill, and took a taxi to Ryan’s office. The receptionist tried to announce me, but I stopped her. I took the elevator to Ryan’s office on the ninth floor. When I opened the door, he was grinning at his phone. Seeing me, he quickly changed his expression to his usual gentle, caring demeanor: “Olivia, what brings you here?” I stared at him silently, watching the nervous sweat form on his brow, seeing the guilt he couldn’t quite hide in his eyes. After making him squirm, I finally spoke: “Nothing much. I just remembered today is our tenth wedding anniversary. I booked a restaurant and thought we could have dinner after work.” Ryan’s face paled for a moment. I knew he had completely forgotten. I also knew he had promised to take that young girl to the amusement park to ride the Ferris wheel tonight. The investigator was thorough – he even sent me the girl’s social media account. I browsed through it out of boredom. They first met ten months ago. The girl’s name had “Zhi” in it, and she was a pastry chef at a cake shop. That explained why desserts from a brand called “Azhi Handmade” kept appearing at home. Several times, Ryan had even brought home desserts with mango – the fruit I’m allergic to. The girl also had a white cat, which explained the cat hair on Ryan. He’s actually allergic to cats, which is why we never got one despite how much I love them. Ryan was really sacrificing for love. Twenty-year-old girls are easy to read and can’t hide things well. Her account was full of lovey-dovey content. She called Ryan “Uncle.” For nine months, she had been documenting their sweet story: [Uncle came to buy my cake again today. I drew a special heart on it just for him.] [Uncle confessed to me! It feels like a dream. I’m the happiest girl in the world now.] Photo: roses.jpg That night, Ryan didn’t come home. I remember it clearly because I had a stomachache and called him several times, but he didn’t answer. The next day, he came home looking disheveled, hugged me and apologized, saying there was an emergency at work and he had to pull an all-nighter.
I kept scrolling through her posts – birthdays, trips, dates. They did look happy. Until the most recent update: [Uncle finally agreed to ride the Ferris wheel with me tonight! We’ll kiss at the highest point, so we’ll never be apart!] Ryan didn’t go with her to the Ferris wheel after all. He chose me. Ten years of companionship still outweighed ten months, it seemed. The familiar revolving restaurant, the familiar table – from here, we had the best view of the entire city. Ten years is a long time. Long enough for us to go from sharing a bowl of noodles to sitting at the highest point of the city, ordering two steaks that had been flown in from Holland that morning. I pushed the gift I had prepared towards Ryan. He had to feign gratitude. It was a pair of cufflinks worth six figures, but Ryan wasn’t wearing a suit today. He wasn’t even wearing his wedding ring. “I’m touched, thank you, Olivia.” “I really should apologize too. I’ve been so busy that I forgot our anniversary, so I didn’t have time to get you a gift. Can you forgive me?” Ryan held my hand, apologizing with seeming sincerity. I smiled: “It’s alright, I forgive you.” The double meaning was clear. I hoped he would understand. After that, we fell silent. We clinked glasses silently, cut our steaks silently. The knives and forks made harsh sounds against the plates. Ryan seemed uncomfortable, constantly checking the time. “Do you remember when we were poorest? I found a great part-time job as a waiter at a five-star hotel. One table ordered over ten thousand dollars worth of food. While serving, I dropped a pastry. The customer got angry. That pastry cost $1,345 – half a month’s salary for me. It was so expensive.” “Olivia, why are you suddenly bringing this up?” Ryan’s face showed a hint of embarrassment. I ignored him and continued: “The manager scolded me harshly. I had to stand there for two hours as punishment. After the customers left, I secretly packed up that pastry and took it home. We squeezed into our tiny, powerless rental apartment and shared it, bite by bite. I thought it was the most delicious pastry in the world then, but today…” I looked up, and Ryan avoided my gaze guiltily: “I suddenly can’t remember what that pastry tasted like anymore.” “Olivia, do you want some dessert? I can order some right away,” Ryan said eagerly. “Forget it, let’s just eat,” I said, lowering my eyes. But Ryan suddenly stood up: “Olivia, there’s an emergency at work. I need to go back. I’ll make it up to you for our anniversary another time.” He left in such a hurry he almost tripped, not even looking back. All because that girl had just posted an update: [Uncle is a big liar. I don’t want to talk to him anymore. crying] The photo showed her burned hand and a half-finished anniversary cake. I looked out at the glittering city night view. I put down my knife and fork, finally remembering what that pastry from years ago tasted like. It was bitter. In the reflection of the glass, I saw my tear-streaked face. Ryan had forgotten. That night, squeezed onto our tiny single bed, he held me tight and said: “Olivia, I promise I’ll make something of myself. I’ll let you sit at the highest point of the city and eat the most expensive meal.” Now I was eating that meal, but the person was gone. It turns out ten months really can be longer than ten years.
After that day, Ryan didn’t come home for three days. Love is always impulsive and passionate. Before midnight that night, they rode the Ferris wheel, kissed at the highest point, and promised to never be apart. “Here’s your cake.” “Thank you.” I politely closed the photo on my phone screen of the two of them kissing on the Ferris wheel. I carefully examined the girl before me. We were finally meeting. Emily Davis, Ryan’s mistress. She smiled warmly, showing her cute little fangs. “This is our shop’s signature cake. It’s super delicious!” Young girls really are different – so full of energy and sunshine. I tried a bite of her cake. It tasted good, just too sweet. Sickeningly sweet. “It’s very good.” “Can I get another one to go? I want to bring it to my husband.” She smiled: “Of course, beautiful sister. You and your husband must have a great relationship.” I didn’t respond, just watched her carefully tie a bow on the bag. As I was leaving, she said sweetly: “Come back again soon! I hope your husband likes my cake too.” “He will. He’ll love it.” I gave her one last long look, then turned and left. I sat on the sofa waiting for Ryan to come home. Because he hadn’t been home for several days, he had an ingratiating smile when he saw me. “Olivia dear, I’ve been so busy these past few days. I brought you a gift. Please don’t be mad at me, okay?” He came up behind me, put his arms around my shoulders and buried his face in my neck. But I could still smell that sickly sweet scent on him. I shrugged out of his embrace without a word. I handed him the boxed cake. Sure enough, when he saw the packaging, the color drained from his face. “Why did you suddenly buy cake?” He was testing me. I kept my face expressionless. Ryan was still trying to keep up appearances. He pulled a velvet box from his pocket containing a jeweled bracelet. “Olivia, are you still mad at me? I swear, it won’t happen again. Really.” “Don’t be angry, okay Olivia?” I used to find Ryan’s wheedling childish but endearing. No matter how decisive and ruthless he was outside, at home he was always my Huaizhi. But now, this special treatment had become his way of lying to me. I forced a smile: “I was passing by and remembered you like it, so I bought some.” Ryan let out a sigh of relief. He leaned in again and fastened the bracelet around my wrist. “I knew my Olivia couldn’t stay mad at me.” I felt dazed. I used to think Ryan had never changed. In my heart, he was always that 20-year-old boy. Now, I could clearly see the fine lines around his eyes, his sagging cheeks, the gray hairs mixed in with the black. “How many years have we known each other?” “Fifteen years. Five years dating, ten years married.” Ryan answered quickly, as if afraid of making another mistake I might notice. “Fifteen years… that really is a long time.” “Only fifteen years, Olivia. We still have many more fifteens ahead of us.” Ryan was eager to prove his loyalty. But fifteen years really was too long. So long I thought it would be a lifetime. Long enough for someone to grow tired of it.
After that day, out of guilt, Ryan stayed home obediently for a week. Then he started not coming home again. I went back to Azhi Handmade. Sat in the same spot as before. Scrolling through Emily’s page. Turns out they went skiing last week. The same cake was placed in front of me. Emily still had that same smile. “Nice to see you again, beautiful sister.” I nodded but didn’t touch the cake. “What’s wrong? Not going to try it today?” “I’m tired of it.” I said simply. Emily’s expression froze for a moment before she recovered her smile. “That’s okay, we have other flavors in the shop. They’re all delicious!” “You can try a different one.” Try a different one. Indeed, I could try something different. I took out my phone and snapped a photo of the shop, posting it with the caption: [Delicious.] Within minutes, Ryan called. I ignored it, hanging up and putting my phone on silent. Emily was making a cake. I stood up and slowly walked over. She looked up and smiled at me. “Want to give it a try, beautiful sister?” “It’s different when you make it yourself.” I nodded. So she brought me into her workspace. She guided me hands-on in making a cake. As we worked, she chattered away: “Beautiful sister, let me tell you, I met my boyfriend while making cakes. The first time he made one, it was all crooked and ugly.” “You two must be very close.” Emily smiled shyly, her eyes sparkling: “Yes, I love him so much.” “We need to trim the cake first.” She handed me the knife. I looked at her young, radiant face and raised the knife. Suddenly I heard a shout: “No!” Then I saw Ryan rush in, roughly push me aside and shield Emily, looking at me in panic. “Olivia, I know I was wrong, but don’t hurt her.” My shoulder slammed hard into the wall, a sharp pain shooting through me. The knife slipped and cut across the back of my hand, drawing blood. I stared at Ryan as I put down the knife and straightened up. Emily was still confused. She clung to Ryan, gripping his clothes tightly. “What’s wrong, Uncle?” I took off my ring and held it up in front of her. It matched the one on Ryan’s left hand as he shielded her. She finally realized – I was the original wife he had no feelings for, who made him lose his passion. Those were her words on her blog: [I feel so bad for Uncle, trapped in a loveless marriage. But it’s okay, I don’t need anything. I just want his love.] She had known all along that Ryan was married. I watched her face turn pale with shock, then suddenly gather her courage and step forward. She bowed to me, her voice shaking: “I’m sorry. I know what I did was wrong, but I have to say it. Uncle and I truly love each other. I don’t want anything else, I just want him.” Ryan looked at her with eyes full of emotion. How pure, I thought. But he had forgotten that I said those exact words ten years ago. Kneeling in front of my father, my face set stubbornly. [I don’t need anything. I just want him.] Back then, Ryan had grabbed my hand and told me he would never let me down. But now. “Olivia, I’m sorry, but I love her.” Ryan looked the picture of undying love as they embraced. I had become the evil supporting character getting in the way of the leads’ romance. Slap! I raised my hand and struck Ryan hard across the face, so hard my palm stung. The wedding ring traced a beautiful arc through the air, fell to the ground, and rolled out of sight. Ryan held his face, not daring to look at me. The young girl was heartbroken for him. She wanted to say something to me, but Ryan held her back. I didn’t say a word. I just straightened my back, walked out of the workspace, smoothed my hair, and picked up my bag. Then I turned back to Ryan and said the only thing I had to say since he arrived: “I’ve sent the divorce papers to your email. Sign them quickly.”
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295957”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #重生Reborn #惊悚Thriller #校园School
Leave a Reply