Chapter 1

The girl before me was barely twenty, in the prime of her beauty, but at this moment, she was crying like a helpless child.

I helplessly handed her another tissue.

Seeing her pitiful expression, I couldn't help but shake my head.

It was, after all, the naive age, full of hope and beautiful fantasies about love.

I expertly pulled a check from my bag, a professional smile appearing on my face.

"Don't be sad, little sister. Men aren't as important as money."

"At least you didn't walk away with nothing, right?"

She looked up, her swollen eyes clearly showing the pain.

I expected her to take the check, but instead, she gently shook her head.

She gazed at me with an unwavering look, her eyes filled with a bit of hope.

"Do you think if I'm a bit better, he'll come back to me?" It felt like she was asking me, or maybe asking herself.

"He won't," I replied flatly. I didn't have the habit of weaving false dreams for my husband's lovers.

A man turning back after sowing his wild oats? That would never happen with Kay Joan.

After all, she was the...

Let me think.

It seemed like the 69th girlfriend in five years?

Actually, she was somewhat special.

At least she lasted three months.

That made her one of the few who had lasted that long.

Her beautiful eyes still teemed with tears as she sobbed, but defiantly, she muttered,

"Mr. Joan said I look seventy percent like you!"

She sniffled, wiped her tears, and shot me a defiant look.

"But I think we're not the same. I love him, but I can tell from your eyes that you don't love him."

Her blunt words made me pause.

Don't love him?

Maybe.

But that didn't matter.

I slowly placed the check before her.

I stood up, grabbed my purse, and left the café without looking back.

Standing outside the café, I saw Kay Joan gazing at me from the car, that familiar indulgence in his eyes.

Divorce.

The thought exploded in my mind.

I didn't say a word as I walked up to the car.

Kay Joan was on the phone, his voice soft and sweet, clearly wrapped in honeyed words. It was obvious he was talking to his new lover.

Whatever the other side said, he laughed, his eyes curving into crescent moons, filled with starlight.

"Baby, I'll definitely be with you for New Year's Eve, don't worry."

That sentence sounded so familiar.

He had said that to me when we first married.

But back then, it was for show, for the public.

I got into the car.

He glanced at me, then reached out to fasten my seatbelt, only for me to pull away.

He froze, his hand suspended in midair, then awkwardly retracted it.

After hanging up the phone, he tentatively spoke.

"Did she upset you?"

Perhaps he had never seen me this indifferent before.

Kay Joan's heart skipped a beat.

Jokingly, he added, "Just a plaything, why would she dare upset you? Who gave her the nerve?"

I stared at him, my eyes empty of emotion.

"It's nothing, I'm just not feeling well today."

He suddenly looked nervous, scanning me from head to toe, as if trying to detect where I might be unwell.

"Is your period coming early? Why so soon?"

Seeing how overly concerned he was, I didn't know how to answer. I simply turned my head and avoided looking at him.

The car was silent, the only sound was the rhythm of our breathing, like drumbeats echoing in my ears, dull and oppressive.

From that point on, we didn't speak again. He drove, and I stared out the window, watching the scenery speed by, blurring into a haze.

Five years of marriage, I had dealt with too many women.

There were the hysterical, the devastated, the furious, and the reluctant.

They were all women who hoped to stay by his side.

They all envied me.

They envied that I could stand beside him openly.

They envied that I didn't have to worry about being casually discarded one day.

But in essence, I was no different from them.

Childhood sweethearts, inseparable from a young age, promised to each other, married when we grew up.

That was the public story of the Joans.

They had spun a perfect love story for the world.

But only those inside the story knew that this marriage had long rotted to the core.

As with every past New Year's Eve, he accompanied me at the annual banquet, smoothly offering toasts and mingling with the guests.

The clinking glasses and polite chatter between families were incredibly dull.

In between conversations, Kay Joan would hand me little sweets I liked.

Chapter 2

The wives of several businessmen looked at me with envious glances.

It seemed they were jealous of the attention I received from my husband.

I ate the cake bite by bite, not feeling any joy.

Wasn't this the image of the loving couple he wanted to portray?

I just needed to play along.

I finally took a break under the guise of needing the restroom, only to overhear a conversation outside the door.

"Mr. Joan really treats his wife well. Handsome, rich, and so loving towards her. How lucky is Rainy Borwn to have him?"

"But I heard that Mr. Joan was originally going to marry her cousin, not her."

"Ah, now that you mention it, wasn't her cousin that sweet, obedient girl named... Gennie Bob?"

I clenched my fingers at the sound of that name.

Gennie Bob.

It had been so long since anyone mentioned that name.

My beloved little cousin.

The one who was originally supposed to marry Kay Joan.

But just before their engagement, she was in a car accident.

I married Kay Joan in place of her.

The skin of my palm had been pinched so hard by my fingers that it was bleeding.

After the other wives left, I finally emerged from the bathroom.

The so-called "celebrating New Year's with me" was nothing more than a perfunctory family event, a mere formality.

Watching him toast, the wedding ring on his finger gleamed brightly, stabbing my eyes with its blinding light.

A surge of disgust rose in my chest, as if I had swallowed a fly. It made me feel sick.

Does he really love to play the role of a devoted lover?

The dinner party had ended, and it was nearly 10 o'clock.

Having drunk a little, I felt dizzy and disoriented.

"Let's go," Kay Joan said, reaching out to support me.

I subtly avoided his touch.

"I can walk on my own," I replied.

He didn't seem to care, walking toward the driver's seat and opening the car door.

I got into the passenger seat and fastened my seatbelt.

The car started, and Kay Joan habitually rolled down the window.

Cold air rushed in, making me shiver.

I pulled my shawl tighter around me.

It was always like this.

It was a habit of his.

The memory of a night many years ago surfaced before my eyes.

It was also New Year's Eve.

Fireworks bloomed in the night sky, dazzling and brilliant.

My cousin had invited me and Kay Joan to watch the fireworks.

By coincidence, Kay Joan had just rushed over from a banquet.

As soon as we got into the car, the strong scent of alcohol hit us.

I was sitting in the passenger seat, subtly furrowing my brow.

Kay Joan and my cousin sat in the backseat.

Through the rearview mirror, I clearly saw my cousin crack the window open a little.

Kay Joan immediately ordered the driver to roll down all the windows.

At the time, I was still somewhat relieved, thinking my cousin would be well protected by him in the future.

From that moment on, whenever Kay Joan got into the car, the first thing he did was roll down the window, no matter whether he had been drinking or not.

But I think I might have been mistaken.

He was considerate to all women.

I closed my eyes and let the cold wind blow against my face.

Somehow, that was the only way I could calm myself down.

Perhaps because of the alcohol and the cold wind, I curled up in my seat.

Kay Joan was on the phone, "Baby, stop making trouble. I promise I'll be with you for New Year's Eve."

I hazily thought, could he not learn a few new sweet words?

Maybe it was because I had curled up that he didn't notice.

He turned his head and looked at me, as if noticing the unusual flush on my face.

His cold hand landed on my forehead.

Suddenly, the car screeched to a halt, and he anxiously shook me.

He hurriedly hung up on his lover, frantically rolled up the window.

I thought I heard him call my name, "Rainy," but it could have just been my imagination.

In the haze, I seemed to drift into a dream.

I dreamed of the year my cousin passed away.

At that time, my cousin was only twenty years old.

Kay Joan and I were both twenty-two.

On the day of our engagement, she didn't show up.

Chapter 3

I was wearing the bridesmaid dress, feeling inexplicably uneasy.

Soon after, we received the devastating news about her.

On her way to the airport to flee from the wedding, she had been in a car accident.

The shock hit me like a bolt of lightning.

Staring at the small photograph on the gravestone, my mind was consumed with memories of her chasing after me when we were children.

With her passing, the family became a tangled mess.

Amid their grief, they turned their attention to me.

I still remember the words Kay Joan whispered in my ear on our wedding day.

"Why force something you don't want?"

My body was growing hotter.

I curled up in my seat, groaning uncomfortably.

He seemed to be soothing me in a soft voice, "Rainy, don't be afraid, we're almost at the hospital."

Or maybe it was just a dream.

Until the car suddenly came to a screeching halt.

I was enveloped by the familiar scent of cedar.

Kay Joan was carrying me into the emergency room.

I could almost see his anxious pacing outside the door.

When I woke up again, I was in a sterile-smelling hospital room.

And my husband was standing by the door, entangled with a familiar girl.

The girl in his arms was none other than Jane Bertha, the one I had sent away today.

"Stop clinging to me, do you hear me?" His voice was soft but the threat was unmistakable.

"If I see you again, you'll never set foot in this city again."

My foggy mind suddenly cleared.

His love had disappeared just that quickly.

The doctor came in to check on me, and upon seeing I was awake, asked with concern, "Miss, you're awake. How are you feeling?"

Kay Joan immediately pushed her aside and strode over to my side.

Jane Bertha, standing at the door, tried to grab Kay Joan's hand but missed.

She bit her lower lip, her eyes filled with reluctance.

Kay Joan reached my bedside, his concerned expression looking genuine.

But I no longer wanted to think about it.

"Kay Joan, let's divorce," I said calmly.

He froze, a flicker of surprise crossing his deep eyes.

"What did you say?" His voice trembled, as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"I said, let's divorce," I repeated, my gaze firm and resolute.

It seemed he couldn't believe that I would take the initiative to bring up the divorce.

But when he saw the seriousness in my eyes, he realized that I wasn't backing down this time.

Rarely, he became angry with me.

His fists clenched, the veins on his temples bulging, and he gritted his teeth as he said, "This is impossible. I've been supporting your family for years, and now that you don't need me, you want to cast me aside?"

"You're just a dog raised by the Kay family. Even if I don't want you anymore, you can't leave the Kay family!"

Kay Joan's rage frightened everyone around us. The nurses and doctors quickly retreated, not wanting to get caught up in the mess.

Standing at the door, watching us the entire time, Jane Bertha's eyes briefly flashed with disappointment.

His words didn't stir my emotions. I simply looked at him, expressionless.

"Since we don't love each other, why not set each other free? Our marriage was a mistake from the start, it should have ended long ago." My voice was light but resolute.

He only gave a bitter laugh, his gaze full of emotions I couldn't understand.

When news of our divorce spread, Kay Joan's former lovers were all celebrating.

Even Kay Joan's family mostly approved.

A useless family, and a useless wife——they had long wanted us to split up.

I calmly had the lawyer bring me the divorce papers.

I signed my name neatly, stroke by stroke.

My body hadn't fully recovered, and I was still only awake for short periods.

When I woke up again, I saw that Kay Joan had signed the divorce papers too.

I was a little surprised.

Just a few days ago, he had been so furious, so unwilling.

And this agreement wasn't even fair.