In the fifth year of my relationship with Donovan Sullivan, I found out he had feelings for another woman. On that day, I confronted him and gave him two options: end things with me or send her abroad. Donovan spent the entire night out in the cold, and ultimately, he chose me.

However, at our wedding ceremony, a young girl unexpectedly appeared. "Daddy, if you're leaving Mommy, what about me? Are you leaving me too?" As the ring slipped from his fingers, Donovan turned away and walked off. I removed my veil and took the microphone from the officiant. "If you take another step, this wedding is over." He paused for a moment but eventually walked away.

When I learned about Donovan's feelings for another woman, I spent the night quietly reflecting. In the end, I realized I wasn't ready to let him go. So, at my request, Donovan sent the woman away. It seemed like our relationship was back to how it was, but deep down, I knew it wasn't the same.

Over the past three years, Donovan has spent less and less time alone with me. He preferred staying at the office, buried in endless paperwork, rather than coming home to be with me. Meals constantly reheated and lights left on night after night echoed my loneliness. They signaled that he wasn't coming back.

That night, when Donovan came home late, he hesitated at the sight of me waiting in the living room; usually, I'd be asleep by that time. I rose from the couch and took his coat, clumsily beginning to loosen his tie. Since that woman left, Donovan rarely let me touch him.

“Go take a shower; I have something to tell you.”

For years, Donovan's words had become sparse. At that moment, his tired eyes looked at me with urgency and impatience. I gave a bitter laugh and said, "Donovan, let's get married." If not for that woman, we would have been married three years ago. He hesitated, and my heart felt like it might burst. I feared he might say "no," but Donovan simply nodded and went upstairs.

The wedding took a month to plan, and Donovan made only two appearances: once for the wedding photos, where he left after the first shot, and once when we went to get our marriage license. At the clerk's office, I sat in the car, staring at the man who hadn’t spoken a word to me all day. I couldn’t tell whether it was frustration or exhaustion. Finally, I said, "Donovan, let's have the wedding ceremony first, then we can get the certificate." He replied with a simple "okay."

Now, at the ceremony, watching him leave without looking back, I felt a small sense of relief. That day, I had given myself an out.

Three days after the wedding, I finally saw Donovan Sullivan again.

It was at the preschool entrance.

He was dropping off his newly acknowledged daughter for school. The principal personally came out to greet Donovan, the new parent.

"Mr. Sullivan, Mrs. Sullivan, we will make sure your daughter is well taken care of here. You can rest easy."

Winter White, addressed as Mrs. Sullivan, subtly glanced at Donovan, her cheeks flushing pink. Donovan hesitated momentarily but didn’t refute the title.

Standing at a distance, I couldn’t help but find it amusing. Our story hadn’t ended yet, and here he was, labeling himself as someone's husband.

I loosened my grip as my little nephew suddenly darted toward Donovan Sullivan. He gave Donovan a firm push and glared at the woman beside him.

"You adults have no shame! You were marrying my aunt just days ago; when did she become Mrs. Sullivan?"

Surrounded by teachers and parents, Donovan wouldn't let his daughter's reputation take a hit. He shielded Winter behind him, coldly glaring in my direction.

"Aya, control your family. Don't let him spread falsehoods about my wife."

With those few words, he managed to shift everyone's attention to me, confident I wouldn't tarnish his public image.

Confident that I still had feelings for him.

I had imagined countless times how Donovan would approach me when we met again, but I never expected him to display not an ounce of remorse.

After he spoke those words, Donovan turned his back to me, his steps somewhat hurried, letting the principal lead their family of three through the enrollment process.

When they came out, I hadn’t left yet.

Winter, holding her daughter, kept her head down, avoiding eye contact. After all, three years ago, she was my intern, meeting Donovan through an opportunity I provided.

I overheard her daughter ask, "Mommy, why does this lady always bother Daddy? She’s so annoying."

Definitely Donovan’s daughter, just as difficult to like as he is.

Donovan stood there with his hands in his pockets, as composed as ever. "She's just a child, don’t pay her any mind."

I tilted my head, chuckling lightly, "And what if I decide to pay attention?"

Donovan stared at me, and finally, with seeming helplessness, he shook his head. "I really don’t know what to do with you."

Winter, apparently intimidated, trembled as she nudged her daughter toward me.

"Apologize to Miss Edwards. You upset her; your dad might leave you."

The little girl refused, clinging to Donovan’s leg, wailing loudly. The noise made my head throb.

And at that moment, I suddenly decided I didn’t want an answer from Donovan anymore.