The day my husband’s team won the championship, he stood on stage as both the captain and one of the only two men in the international tournament. He had promised to unveil the identity of his mysterious wife. That evening, I washed my weary hands, slipped into my most elegant Victorian dress, and waited anxiously backstage, hoping to hear my name.

But under the glare of countless spotlights, he stood with the team's vice-captain and announced to the cameras that she was the love of his life. I was lost in the sea of cheering fans, my phone screen displaying a terse, unemotional message from him.

"Amaris has had feelings for me for three years, and the fans are rooting for us to be together. You’re just a regular person; revealing our marriage would harm my career."

That night, I didn't break down or question him as I usually would. Instead, I quietly removed the ring from my finger and watched as he and Amaris kissed under the lights. We had supported each other for twenty years, but this time, I decided to live for myself.

In the midst of endless cheers, I glanced at my phone screen, almost hearing Reign’s voice as if he were speaking the words. A spotlight swept across me. The wedding ring on my finger glistened in the light, much like my past feelings for Reign, which had once been vibrant and beautiful. But that was all in the past.

I turned off my phone, taking off the ring. I hadn't removed it once since we married a year ago. It left a faint mark on my finger, a stark reminder. I turned and tossed the ring into the jubilant crowd. On stage, Reign and Amaris were still locked in an embrace, their hands tightly intertwined as if they'd never part.

I left the venue, hailed a cab, and went back home to start packing my things. This was the home Reign and I shared, yet as I packed, I realized how little of it actually belonged to me.

Outside, rain had begun to pour, and it wasn't until the early hours, after celebrating his victory with teammates, that Reign finally returned home. He squinted as he flopped onto the couch, covering his face with one hand, looking utterly drained. The room was faintly scented with alcohol; as an esports player, smoking and drinking are off-limits as they impair reaction times.

But Reign loved to have a good time, and I used to trail behind him, nagging him. Now, it didn't seem worth the effort.

“Ivanna, I want some pulled pork,” Reign mumbled, reclining on the couch with his eyes still closed, calling my name softly. Since he arrived, he hadn't opened his eyes to look at me even once.

I stayed silent, set down my suitcase, and took out the divorce papers I had prepared long ago, bringing them to him. Not out of fear, but because I simply couldn't face it before.

“What’s this, Ivanna?” Reign opened his eyes, saw the papers, and bolted upright from the couch. He glared at me with narrowed eyes, his mouth set in a tight line. I didn't need to look to know his hands were probably balled into fists, trembling slightly.

I knew him like the back of my hand.

“I’ve explained it to you already. It’s about my career. Why are you being so selfish? Don’t you want to see me succeed? Are you trying to make me retire like you?”

Reign's anger echoed through the quiet room, sharp and biting. Only the sound of rain filled the silence. I watched Reign without saying a word. His phone on the table lit up, catching our attention. It was a message from Amaris, full of concern.

I watched as the phone screen dimmed and suddenly found everything so absurd, I laughed without reason.

Amaris was Reign's vice-captain; they were always close, more than just colleagues. I lost count of how many times Reign had left me at Amaris's call, rushing to her side without hesitation. Countless times, Reign stood by Amaris's side, condemning me, humiliating my dignity and pride.

And yet, I endured it all because he was Reign. Because we had been each other's anchors for twenty-five years.

Reign and I grew up together in an orphanage, without family or friends—just the two of us. When he was fifteen, Reign came home one day, bruised and muddy, his eyes were red with anger, fists clenched tightly by his sides.

Reign shared how a classmate had sneered at him for being parentless, making fun of his worn-out clothes and asking which dumpster he'd found them in.

"Ivanna," he said intensely, locking eyes with me, "I refuse to be looked down upon forever."

The orphanage was barely able to cover our basic needs, let alone offer us better opportunities. Determined to prevent Reign from being mocked again, I made the tough choice to leave school and start working early. I was just seventeen at the time.

During the day, I worked at an auto repair shop, and at night, I played video games professionally for cash. I lived on scraps, saving every penny to support Reign. It wasn't that I didn't want to continue my studies; it was because Reign excelled academically. The orphanage's support ended at eighteen, so we had to figure out how to pay for college and living costs ourselves. With Reign's outstanding grades, it made sense for him to have the chance to attend college.

Sacrificing for Reign didn’t really feel like a hardship to me.

At seventeen, I slept in a shared room with five others, falling asleep to the hum of a fan during hot summer nights. Yet, I never felt despair or regret. Every time I closed my eyes, I imagined Reign, joyfully running to me with a college acceptance letter in hand.

But that dream was shattered.

At eighteen, my gaming skills and strategic prowess caught the attention of a rising eSports team, pulling me into the professional gaming world. The following year, our team dominated a major tournament, propelling my career into the spotlight. After securing the win, the prize money secured my future, and after covering my essentials, I handed the rest to Reign.

That day, while sharing amusing stories from my training with Reign, I failed to notice the hungry and ecstatic look in his eyes as he glanced at the bank card.

Determined, I continued training hard as the date for Reign's college entrance exams drew near. On the day of his exam, I took time off from the team to meet him after school.

Reign came out earlier than expected, looking thrilled to see me. "Ivanna, show me your team!"

Thinking he was just curious about my life, I didn’t think much of it and took him out for a lavish meal at the mall.

But when the exam results came out, Reign's poor scores left me speechless. I was stunned. Only then did I realize that Reign had become obsessed with gaming.

We argued fiercely—our first and only confrontation.

I couldn't grasp why he chose not to pursue education and instead wanted to follow my path. Throughout the exhausting days of team training, I often longed for my school days, imagining crisp uniforms, clean books, and the vibrant buzz of classroom activities. I missed those days but never regretted leaving school because I believed Reign would fulfill my share of dreams.

But now, he told me he envied me.

"You're just gaming and making money! I want that life, too!"

"Ivanna, did you ever ask for my opinion before urging me to go to college?"

Reign exclaimed, triumphantly showing me his high-ranking international server account. "Look, I'm among the top ranks!"

"This proves I'm capable! Ivanna, I can earn money from gaming just like you!"

He was brimming with confidence. Yet, I remembered how, when another boy from the orphanage had to drop out because of financial problems, Reign had held my hand tightly, telling me he wanted to study.

And now, he said he wanted to play games.

But Reign, you don't know.

You don't understand the sleepless, relentless grind of training within a team.