My client wanted her wedding dress to be light and romantic. “We’re getting married in Santorini, the ultimate wedding destination!” I smiled and agreed, but my heart felt like it was plunged into ice water. Just yesterday, I’d discovered a secret Leo had hidden deep in his bookshelf. Two plane tickets to Santorini from five years ago. One was his. The other belonged to a woman named Luna. On the back of the tickets, in Leo’s handwriting: “For your most romantic wedding.” But he had explicitly told me that weddings were cliché and a hassle. That’s why, in our five years of marriage, we had no proposal, no wedding, not even a single decent photo together. That evening, when Leo returned, I placed the two tickets in front of him. “Leo, let’s get a divorce,” I said calmly. He barely glanced at them before impatiently sweeping the tickets to the floor. “Seriously? That old thing again? What’s gotten into you?” I said nothing more. I simply had my lawyer prepare the divorce papers. Seeing my persistence, his patience snapped. “You’re divorcing me over two old plane tickets?” “Yes.”
My words hung in the air, and a long silence fell over the living room. Leo’s face darkened, irritation etched across his features. That same irritation, I’d seen it countless times over the past five years. When I’d painstakingly prepared a candlelit dinner, only for him to suddenly say he had to work late. When I’d waited for him, brimming with excitement, on my birthday, only for him to forget the time playing basketball with his friends. When I’d cautiously asked him when we could travel like other couples. He always looked at me with that expression, as if I were a spoiled child making unreasonable demands. “Skye, what exactly do you want?” He tugged at his tie, his brows deeply furrowed. “If you think I haven’t been spending enough time with you lately, I can make time. If you feel like you don’t have enough money, my extra card is with you. You haven’t forgotten the password, have you?” He reduced everything to material needs and companionship, deliberately avoiding any mention of feelings. Perhaps, in his heart, I, his wife, was only worthy of these things. I suppressed the ache in my chest and looked into his eyes. “I don’t want anything, Leo. I just want a divorce.” His patience finally ran out. “Is this really necessary? All this drama over some stupid thing from five years ago!” “I forgot to throw those tickets away; it was my oversight, and I apologize! But you can’t use that to threaten me into a divorce!” He spoke with self-righteous indignation, tearing off his tie and tossing his jacket onto the couch, his face a mask of cold indifference. I met his gaze defiantly, refusing to back down, still insisting on the divorce. The atmosphere grew heavy. Just then, Leo’s phone rang. The screen lit up, and the caller ID “Luna” stabbed me like a knife. Leo’s expression softened. He instinctively glanced at me, then picked up his phone, his movements subtly guarded. His voice melted. “…Not asleep yet? Another nightmare?” “Shhh, don’t be scared, don’t be scared. I’ll be right over. You just wait for me in bed, okay?” My heart ached with a dull throb. So, Leo wasn’t naturally cold. All his tenderness and patience were reserved for someone else. He hung up the phone, glared at me, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. “Something came up at the office, Skye. I don’t want to have a pointless argument with you about this. If you keep stirring up trouble like this, there’s nothing I can do. Five years of marriage, and you still act like a naive girl, so childishly paranoid. It’s truly disappointing.” *I’m* stirring up trouble? I felt utterly powerless. Leo always blamed me during arguments. And most of all, he’d tell me that as husband and wife, we shouldn’t nitpick or keep score. “Leo…” A lump formed in my throat. I was about to call out to him when my peripheral vision caught a white piece of paper fluttering from his jacket pocket. It was a delivery slip. Driven by an impulse I couldn’t explain, I bent down and picked it up. **[Item: Condoms x 2 boxes, Recipient: Ms. Xu]** The date was last Saturday, and the delivery location was a hotel. The words caught in my throat, unable to be spoken or swallowed, and my heart sank. I remembered Leo saying he was on a business trip last week. He hadn’t come home all weekend, and when I’d called, his attitude had been impatient. I laughed, but tears welled up, stinging the corners of my eyes crimson. My hand clenched tight, and almost instinctively, I followed him out. But what I saw next, I never could have imagined. Leo left our house, turned right, and stopped at the house NEXT DOOR!
As he slipped inside, just before the door fully closed, I clearly saw a woman stand on her tiptoes and kiss him directly. “Leo, you’re finally here,” she whispered. “I was so scared alone…” Leo didn’t refuse her kiss. He deepened it, then slammed the door shut with a frantic urgency. My blood ran cold. Leo had brazenly put his mistress right next door, a single wall separating her from me! I stared at that tightly closed door, and fragmented images exploded in my mind. He would press her against the door, silencing her cries with the same possessive kisses I’d begged for for five years but never received. He would lift her into the bedroom like a precious treasure, gently peeling away her clothes… My heart felt like it was being squeezed, the pain so intense I couldn’t breathe. I leaned against the cold wall, then drifted back home, utterly lost. His scent still lingered in the house, but it now filled me with waves of nausea. Looking around this home I had so carefully decorated, I suddenly felt it was meaningless. I began to pack my things. As I reached for my old sketchbooks, I found a planner hidden at the very bottom of the bookshelf. I’d never seen it before. Driven by an inexplicable impulse, I opened the first page. In that instant, I felt myself falling into a romantic dream meticulously crafted for another woman. There were analyses of Santorini’s sunlight in different seasons, solely to choose the most beautiful time for a wedding. There were comparisons of over a dozen top bridal brands, each page meticulously marked in red pen: *Luna’s possible preferred styles.* There were engagement ring designs drawn by his own hand, with tiny notes beside them: *The main diamond should be her favorite cornflower blue sapphire, and the band should be paved with small diamonds, because she said she loves the sparkle of a starlit sky.* There was even a proposal plan detailed down to the minute. *On Luna’s birthday, at the mountain observatory where they first dated, 999 drones will spell out her name in the night sky. Then, he will present flowers and the ring, promising her a lifetime under the stars.* The last page of the booklet contained a handwritten honeymoon travel plan. From the blue and white towns of Greece, to hot air balloons in Turkey, and then to the Northern Lights in Iceland… I turned page after page, my fingertips numb, my body trembling. All these years, I hadn’t been without hope. I thought Leo was just reserved, not good at expressing himself. I thought he was too busy with work to bother with these formalities. But now I knew: he wasn’t incapable, he just wasn’t capable *for me*. He had poured all his romance, all his meticulous care, all his grand gestures into someone else. And all he left me was perfunctory indifference and impatience. I remembered once at a gathering with Leo’s friends, after they’d had a few drinks, they egged him on to give me a proper proposal. We had already been married for two years then. I was a little hopeful too, my cheeks flushed as I looked at him. But Leo just leaned lazily back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. “Come on, stop it. We’re old married couples, why bother with all that fake stuff?” Everyone laughed and dispersed, that small interlude quickly forgotten. Only I, on that boisterous night, felt an emptiness inside. Turns out, it wasn’t that he didn’t do “fake stuff.” He just didn’t want to do it *for me*. He poured every romantic thought, every ounce of effort he could imagine, into Luna’s planner. And all he left me was a dismissive “trouble” and “cliché.” I slowly closed the booklet, my heart aching with a sharp, prickling pain. The tears finally broke free. Numbly, I set aside the planner, along with that glaring condom receipt. Through a blur of tears, I messaged my lawyer. “Mr. Miller, are the papers ready? Send them over. I want to sign tonight.”
Leo didn’t come home that night. I sat on the couch, staring blankly all night. As dawn broke, I rubbed my dry, aching eyes. There was no point in waiting any longer. Just as I was packing my last few personal items, the doorbell rang. I thought it was Leo, and my heart clenched. I walked over and opened the door. Standing there, however, was a strange woman. She wore a white dress, her long hair flowing over her shoulders – a picture of innocent purity. I recognized her instantly. It was the woman who’d cooed about being scared last night. Seeing me, she feigned surprise, covering her mouth, her eyes wide with feigned innocence. “Oh, I’m so sorry, did I… did I get the wrong place? I’m looking for Leo.” She paused, tilting her head to scrutinize me, her tone deceptively sweet. “Excuse me, are you the housekeeper here?” I stared at her, brazenly waltzing into my home, staking her claim, and found it utterly laughable. “I’m Leo’s wife, Skye,” I said coldly. “Ms. Xu, why bother pretending you don’t know me? Honestly, your acting is terrible.” With her identity directly exposed, the feigned innocence on Luna’s face vanished instantly. She dropped the act, crossing her arms and speaking with contempt. “Wife? A wife who doesn’t even know where her husband spends the night?” She scoffed, tapped her phone a few times, then shoved it in front of my face. On the video, Leo, shirtless, was pressing her against a bed, their lips locked in a desperate kiss. Their frantic movements left no doubt about his desire. “See that?” Luna’s voice was filled with triumph. “Leo says he loves me most when I wear white dresses. He just can’t resist me like this.” She scanned my loungewear with a dismissive glance. “Unlike some people, dressed like a frumpy housewife, completely turning him off.” She swiped the screen, and intimate photos flashed one after another. “Leo was exhausted last night. He’s still asleep at my place right now.” She put away her phone, a defiant smirk playing on her lips. “He said having sex with you was like completing a chore, completely joyless. But with me, he’s like a tireless beast.” “Skye, you’ve been living a loveless, sexless marriage for five years, haven’t you? Must be so lonely.” *Slap!* I raised my hand and slapped her, hard, across her smug, triumphant face. Luna’s cheek instantly swelled red. Clutching her face, she glared at me with venomous eyes, shrieking as she tried to strike back. But just as she raised her hand, she caught a glimpse of the elevator, and her expression instantly transformed. All the fierceness vanished completely, replaced by terror. She stumbled backward, falling straight towards the shoe cabinet behind me, her forehead hitting the corner with a pitiful cry. I was stunned by her rapid transformation. I was about to speak when Leo’s voice, brimming with fury, boomed from behind me. “Skye! Are you out of your mind?!” He roared, lunged forward, and violently shoved me aside. Caught off guard, my back slammed hard against the cold wall, and the pain made my vision go black. He didn’t spare me a glance. Instead, he carefully helped Luna up, cradling her in his arms, his voice laced with concern. “Luna! Are you okay? Where did you get hurt?” Luna wept in his arms, looking utterly helpless and tear-streaked. “Leo… it’s not her fault, I just fell accidentally… please don’t blame her…” No sooner had she finished speaking than Leo looked up, his eyes turning menacing. “She’s just not feeling well and came over for some medicine! Why would you lay a hand on her? How utterly heartless can you be?!” I bit back the pain, not missing the flicker of triumph in Luna’s eyes. I gave a bitter laugh, raising my hand to wipe away the cold tears on my face. “Leo,” I said calmly, “I only dare to admit it today: you’re an absolute bastard!” “My lawyer will send you the divorce papers. We’re done.” He scoffed, carrying Luna into the elevator, leaving me with a single dismissive remark: “I don’t have time for your madness! If anything happens to Luna, you and I are not finished!” I sat on the floor, watching the elevator doors slowly close, reflecting my pathetic figure. After a long while, I forced back all my tears, went into the bedroom, and packed my luggage. Before leaving, I looked back one last time. The couple’s slippers I’d bought him were still by the entrance, untouched. The living room wall was still bare because he said hanging wedding photos was tacky. This house was filled with traces of our life together, yet not a single shred of evidence that we had ever been in love. I turned away decisively, not shedding another tear. It wasn’t worth it.
The next day, my lawyer called, his voice somewhat hesitant. “Ms. Skye, Mr. Leo… says he won’t agree to a divorce. It seems a mutual divorce isn’t an option.” I hung up the phone, pressing my temples to quell the frustration, recalling the information my lawyer had found on Luna. After a moment’s thought, I pulled out my phone and dialed Leo’s number. The phone rang for a long time before it was answered, and I heard men’s laughter in the background. “Leo, is your wife checking up on you again?” “Checking up? Looks more like she’s coming for his life! Leo, you gotta hang in there, don’t let that woman suck you dry. Our Goddess Luna is waiting for your attention!” The vulgar, disgusting words assaulted my ears, making me sick. The next second, Luna’s sweet, cooing voice chimed in, feigning a gentle reproach. “Oh, you guys, stop talking nonsense. Leo’s wife will get angry if she hears that.” “What right does she have to be angry?” One of the men scoffed. “Someone who clawed her way in through underhanded means, does she really think she’s someone important? If she hadn’t taken advantage of the situation back then, Leo and Luna would have a house full of kids by now!” A more unrestrained burst of laughter erupted on the other end. My hand, clutching the phone, began to tremble, blood rushing to my head. Leo’s voice finally spoke. “Alright, enough with the jokes.” A few seconds later, he asked impatiently into the phone, “What do you want?” “Are you just going to let them humiliate me like that?” I said, my voice cold. There was a moment of silence on the other end, then his voice rose. “They’re drunk, just kidding around. Are you taking it seriously? Skye, can you stop making such a big deal out of everything?” “Making a big deal out of everything.” He’d said that for years. I was finally, completely, sick of it! I’d wanted to part ways amicably, to preserve what little dignity we had left. But now, it seemed I was too naive. If they had no shame, why should I give them any? “Where are you?” I asked calmly. Leo paused, then gave an address. “Nightfall Club. Why?” “No reason.” I hung up the phone, then pulled out the red slip dress from the back of my closet. On our first wedding anniversary, I’d excitedly put it on, but Leo had only glanced at me coolly. “You look indecent. Take it off.” Since then, I’d never worn it again. But today, I felt it was just right. I headed straight to the Nightfall Club. When I pushed open the door to the private room, the revelry inside came to an abrupt halt. In the center of the room, Leo and Luna sat together on the couch. Luna was nestled in Leo’s arms, holding a glass of red wine, about to feed it to his lips. And on Leo’s face was an expression of ease and happiness I had never seen before. What a picture of devoted lovers. Leo saw me, and his face instantly fell. He pushed Luna away, his brows furrowed. “What are you doing here?” I didn’t answer. I simply curved my red lips into a smile, swaying gracefully as I walked towards him. “What am I doing? You’re about to find out.” I swept a contemptuous glance at Luna, then picked up a glass of red wine from the table and poured it over her head. “Ah!” Luna shrieked, stomping her foot in fury. “That’s a lesson in manners for you! You touch what’s mine, you pay the price!” “Skye! You’re insane!” Leo roared, lunging forward to grab my wrist, squeezing so hard it left red marks. “What the hell do you want?!” His eyes were bloodshot. I looked at his frantic, protective stance for another woman, my heart utterly dead. I abruptly raised my leg and kicked him hard in the stomach. Leo grunted, doubling over in pain. I looked down at him, my words like ice. “Leo, I didn’t want anything at first. But you insisted on provoking me. So of course, I have to deliver.” I turned to Luna, my gaze sharp. “You thought you could provoke me and get away with it? Ms. Xu, you’re quite foolish.” Her face instantly changed, but she still forced a smile. “Ms. Skye, threatening me is useless. My conscience is clear.” I laughed. “Oh, a clear conscience, how noble! I hope you can still smile after you hear what I have to say.” The atmosphere in the private room turned cold. Luna looked at me with suspicion, a flicker of unease in her eyes. She instinctively tightened her grip on Leo’s arm, feigning composure. “What… what do you mean?”
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