Chapter 1

I found an old phone in my husband Ethan Lloyd's coat pocket.

The password was his first love's birthday.

Inside were records of every time they had sex — in his office, in the bathroom of the café downstairs, even in our marital bedroom.

"Lily, is it fun invading other people's privacy?"

I turned around. Ethan was standing in the doorway.

I was exhausted. This time, I didn't bother fighting with him.

I just said calmly, "Let's get a divorce."

Ethan smashed the phone on the floor right in front of me, his expression utterly indifferent.

"That's all in the past."

He asked, "Still want the divorce?"

I nodded seriously. "Yes."

"Enough. Stop making a scene."

Ethan frowned, clearly impatient.

"Be good. Once the project wraps up at the end of the year, I'll make time to take you skiing in Hokkaido, okay?"

When I didn't respond for a long while, Ethan's lips curved into his usual careless smile as he tapped my forehead with his fingertip.

"I'm not lying this time. I mean it."

I almost wanted to laugh.

"Not lying this time."

So he knew he'd lied to me countless times before.

He'd promised that Hokkaido ski trip years ago, postponing it year after year.

For our usual movie dates, I was always the one waiting alone at the theater entrance until showtime.

When he said he'd pick me up, I'd stand there soaked by the rain, never seeing his car.

Ethan always broke his promises to me.

So now, saying this like it was some kind of favor, some reward.

"No need," I said, taking a deep breath before repeating firmly, "Ethan, I want a divorce."

This time, the man's expression turned cold, his patience completely exhausted.

"Lily, you're being completely unreasonable."

"Go to Hokkaido or don't---I've already given you the chance."

"Don't come crying to me later about how I didn't keep my word."

With that, he grabbed his coat from the sofa and turned to leave.

He didn't even touch the dinner I'd carefully prepared to his taste.

I remained silent too.

For the first time, I didn't try to make him stay, not even for one more minute.

Ethan paused at the door, glancing back at me.

I had already sat down and begun eating quietly by myself.

He slammed the door.

Like he was venting some fury.

My heart had long since stopped hurting---only a barren wasteland remained.

I used to think that someone as superior as Ethan would never stoop to mundane domesticity.

But it turned out he would cook for the girl he loved.

Just to earn one compliment from her.

The cuts on his hands, the burns from hot water---they all became badges of love.

He'd even said such childish things:

"Cooking for someone you like really does feel so happy."

"I want to cook for Claire for the rest of my life, fatten her up so no one else will try to steal her from me."

Reading those records made me realize for the first time how much of a joke I was.

The next day, I met my lawyer best friend at a café and asked her to draft a divorce agreement.

"What happened with you two? Why is it this serious this time?"

My friend looked shocked.

She knew better than anyone how much I loved Ethan.

In past arguments, we'd have a cold war at most.

"I'm really tired," I said, looking out at the traffic. "You know what? She came back."

Just that one pronoun, and my friend understood.

Claire Bennett.

Ethan's unforgettable first love.

That name was like a tiny needle lodged in my heart.

Never drawing blood, but causing pain from time to time.

I'd never even seen her in person, yet her existence had affected me for five whole years.

Ethan said personal space was important, but he and Claire had shared a music account.

Ethan didn't like his life being public, but his old social media was filled with traces of that girl.

The art exhibitions he took me to featured Claire's favorite painters.

He complained that shopping with me wasted time, yet he'd once browsed every antique market in the city with her.

Two years of dating, three years of marriage---Ethan had never truly removed her from his heart.

And I was more like companionship during his single period. A habit.

A second choice.

"Alright, leave the divorce agreement to me---I won't let you get the short end of the stick!"

My friend said worriedly, "But Lily, have you really made up your mind?"

"I told you from the start---this man isn't right for you. He hasn't cleared his heart, and being with him means you're just hurting yourself."

"But you had to go and fall for him anyway, wouldn't listen no matter what I said."

I lowered my eyes, stirring the coffee in my cup.

"Some lessons have to be learned the hard way."