On our seventh wedding anniversary, I found a plane ticket tucked away in Jack's drawer. I assumed it was a surprise for me, but as the evening wore on, all I got from him was a curt announcement about a business trip. Unable to sleep, I scrolled through Nala's Twitter feed:

"Bucket List at Eighteen—See the Northern Lights in Iceland with the love of my life. Finally made it today!"

The photo attached showed Jack and Nala kissing under the aurora. I didn't cry, nor did I message him demanding explanations. After chasing after him for so many years, I was exhausted.

---

When Jack returned, I had just finished setting the table with spicy pulled pork. I used to love spicy food, but Jack couldn’t handle the heat. After we got together, I stopped cooking anything spicy. But now, I just couldn't bring myself to compromise anymore.

Jack placed a necklace on the table—a pink diamond necklace that had sat in my online shopping cart for ages, one I couldn’t bring myself to buy.

"For our anniversary," he murmured, pressing his lips together. "I got too busy the other day and forgot."

"It's fine," I replied, picking up a forkful of pulled pork without looking up.

Jack hesitated, trying to justify himself, but fell silent. He looked at me, bracing for tears and questions that used to follow his lapses. I, too, once thought I couldn't stay composed facing Jack's infidelity.

On our anniversary, seeing the plane tickets in the drawer had made my heart race with anticipation. The destination was Iceland—a place we had planned to visit on our honeymoon. Back then, his work had been too demanding, and the trip got postponed repeatedly.

I believed it was a surprise he had planned for me. I spent the day preparing a lavish dinner and even lit candles, waiting for Jack to come home. But when he rushed in, he didn't spare me a glance as he headed straight to the bedroom. Emerging moments later, he said, "Something came up at work; I need to go on a business trip," and left.

He took the plane tickets with him. He hadn't planned a trip to see the Northern Lights with me after all. He had forgotten it was our seventh anniversary.

I stared at the carefully prepared candlelit dinner, but couldn't eat. I leaned against the sofa, watching the snow outside, my eyes stinging.

Hours later, I still couldn't sleep. I opened Twitter and saw a post from Nala Ellis. The location was Iceland.

"Bucket List at Eighteen—See the Northern Lights in Iceland with the love of my life. Finally made it today!"

The photo showed Jack and Nala kissing under the aurora. My phone slipped from my hand. So, Jack had gone to Iceland with Nala. I should have seen this coming.

I sat numbly in the cold living room, sleepless through the night.

"Why's everything so spicy?" Jack asked, frowning at the spread on the table as he sat down.

"I didn't think you'd be back," I said, setting my utensils aside and heading to the bedroom.

He caught my wrist, his eyes searching mine with a complex look. After a moment, he finally said, "Winnie, are you just going to leave like this?"

I turned back, puzzled. "What else is there to do?"

Should I, like before, prepare a late-night cup of coffee for him as he returns from work and place it in front of him?

I had just settled into bed when my phone buzzed with a message from Elias Franklin:

"Winifred, knowing everything I do about you, I need to ask again—are you genuinely committed to relocating to the UK?"

"Even though I truly want you to go, you've turned me down so many times because of Jack Harvey. I feel uneasy, so I'm checking once more."

I chuckled softly and replied, "Don't worry, Elias."

"This time, I'm truly determined."

A year ago, our company opened a branch in the UK, but the managerial position has been vacant ever since. Elias has suggested it to me countless times, insisting it's an incredible opportunity not to be missed.

The prospect has tempted me for some time, as relocating would mean not only a promotion but also doubling my salary. Yet, the thing holding me back was Jack Harvey.

When Jack was a child, his mother went abroad, leaving him behind, and his father rarely paid him any attention. When they moved next door to us, Jack was only eleven.

It was Thanksgiving Eve, and he sat quietly at the entrance, all alone. As I went outside to set off fireworks, I noticed him huddled in a corner, staring wistfully at the sky. Seeing me watching him, Jack lowered his head, masking his emotions with a blank expression.

As I gazed at his frail silhouette, I remembered my mom's empathetic words about his situation earlier that day, and I suddenly felt a pang of pity:

"Want to join me in setting off fireworks? I'm too scared to do it by myself." I handed him a sparkler.

He raised his head, stared blankly for a moment, then reached out to take it. We set off the fireworks together, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw his lips ease into a faint smile.

Later, I insisted he come over to our house for Thanksgiving dinner. He stayed until his father returned home, drunk from gambling, then went back next door.

During those teenage years, a time when pride is fiercest, I was always there for him.

That lasted until we went off to different universities. Jack suddenly cut off contact.

It wasn't until our graduation year that I came home and saw him waiting under the streetlamp outside our building.

As I watched him approach me with calm, steady steps, everything around me seemed to freeze.

His clear, handsome face melded with the image I'd held in my memories:

"Winifred, it's been a while."

"It's been a while."

I looked at him, unsure of what to say.

Suddenly, he leaned down and kissed me. My heart stopped, then began racing uncontrollably.

After a long moment, Jack pulled away, staring into my eyes as he asked, "Winifred, will you be my girlfriend?"

I swallowed hard, "Okay."

I was annoyed at how quickly I agreed, but he had always known about my secret crush on him. He did it on purpose.

Just like that, it seemed inevitable that we got married.

I remember the day I told him about the job transfer that would require me to move abroad; he was silent for a long time. That night, he drank endless cups of coffee, his eyes red as he looked at me, murmuring, "Winnie, are you going to leave me too..."

Fearing it would remind him of the pain of being abandoned by his mother, I dropped the subject.

But in the end, it was me who was left behind.

I bit my lip, feeling my heart slowly breaking.

Sensing something, Elias cautiously inquired, "Did something happen between you and Jack Harvey?"

I didn't reply, which was confirmation enough.

After a while, he sent another message:

"Flowers bloom forward, people move onward. Winifred, trust in your choices."

"I'll give you a month off once you arrive, so you can relax and gather your thoughts."