On my thirtieth birthday, the award-winning songwriter released a new track. My husband, Mathias Thomas, announced to the media that the song was titled "Rachel," dedicated to someone special. Shortly after, Rachel Griffin, a new singer, tweeted:

“Thank you, Mathias, for the debut gift. I really love it. @MathiasThomas”

The picture she shared showed her singing in a recording studio. Mathias retweeted, commenting, “Destiny brought us together; may your journey to stardom be successful.”

Quietly, I liked both tweets and then messaged Connor Wheeler, who was overseas:

"Connor, I’d love to join your team and head abroad for the shoot."

==============================

Mathias came home smelling of alcohol, calling my name. When he opened the door and saw me lying in bed, he paused for a moment.

“Why didn’t you make me something for the hangover?”

I kept my eyes closed and didn’t reply.

Mathias nudged my arm, saying, “Leanna, I need some hangover soup.”

I opened my eyes reluctantly, my voice steady. “The recipe is in the kitchen cabinet.”

“Aren’t you going to make it for me?” he frowned, looking frustrated. “I was just a little late getting home. Why didn’t you wait up?”

Expressionless, I looked at him, “I’m tired. I need to sleep. If you don’t want to make the soup, find some hangover pills in the medicine cabinet.”

Since Mathias gained recognition, he’s had social events nearly every day. To help him recover the next day, I researched various hangover remedies. I tested over ten different hangover soups myself, trying each when I had overindulged, before settling on the best recipe.

For five years, whenever he returned from these gatherings, I’d have his hangover soup ready, followed by a head massage, all to ensure he’d feel better the next day.

But now, I’m worn out, unwilling to take care of him like this anymore.

Mathias was taken aback by my indifference, just as I was shocked by the blow he gave me today.

Our marriage has always been a secret. Mathias promised we’d go public once he established his career. And I've waited for eight years.

In his third year in the industry, Mathias started to gain prominence. Yet he kept insisting it wasn’t the right time, that he needed to reach the pinnacle, urging me to be patient. Last year, he won all the major awards, genuinely becoming a leading figure.

While Mathias was composing this song, I overheard him talking about its production and title with his team during meetings. Several times, I distinctly heard the name "Leanna."

During this time, I truly believed he was writing the song for us.

Mathias, standing nearby, suddenly realized what day it was, and his face turned pale. "Leanna, I'm so sorry—I got caught up at work today and completely forgot it was your birthday. The gift is back at the office. I'll bring it home tomorrow."

I got out of bed and started changing my clothes, speaking in a detached tone. "That's alright, I'm heading out for a late-night snack with colleagues."

As I walked past Mathias, he reached out to stop me, looking uncertain. After a moment, he finally said, "Come back early, okay?"

I nodded, saying, "Sure," and left.

When my colleagues saw me, they teased, "It's a surprise to see you out at night after all these years working together!"

"You always claimed to be single; we almost thought you were living a secret life."

I laughed and responded, "It's my fault, really. Let me treat everyone to a drink."

With that, I raised my glass and took a long sip.

In the past, my world revolved around work and Mathias. Whenever colleagues invited me out for dinner or late-night snacks, I'd always say I had commitments at home. Gradually, my social circle shrank. One of my colleagues remembered it was my birthday and decided to invite me along.

When I agreed to join them, they thought I might have had too much to drink.

During the gathering with my colleagues, Mathias kept texting, asking when I'd be back. I felt like I was looking at my old self.

By the time I said goodbye to my colleagues and headed home, it was past 2 a.m.

I opened the living room door and was surprised to see Mathias sitting on the sofa. Normally, he'd be asleep in bed by now. When I'd come back late from a reunion once, Mathias complained I was disrupting his sleep and told me to return earlier.

"Leanna, you're back? Let me make you some hangover soup."

Seeing me enter, Mathias stood up and headed towards the kitchen.

"No need, I'm just going to bed."

Mathias looked at me, puzzled.

In the past, I would've run over, hugged him, curled up beside him, perhaps even teasingly complained a bit. But now, I just glanced at him, mentioned briefly that I'd sleep in the guest room since I'd been drinking, and closed the bedroom door.

The next day at work, I talked to my manager about my career plans and handed in my resignation letter. She agreed swiftly and said, "Nori, I've always believed you're destined for greater things. I just couldn't fathom why you'd stay at our magazine all this time."

"You're talented and hardworking; moving on to bigger opportunities should be a breeze for you."

I simply smiled without giving a direct answer. Back in college, I'd already won several photography awards, and before graduation, many major companies had extended offers. But I turned them all down because I was concerned about Mathias.

Last week, Connor, whom I hadn’t heard from in a while, suddenly reached out to see if I was interested in joining their team. At that moment, I still declined.

Connor tried convincing me for a long time, but I didn't relent. Finally, he said, "If you change your mind, let me know anytime."

After leaving the manager's office, I began handing over my work to my colleagues. When they found out I was resigning, they insisted on throwing a farewell party tonight. I agreed.

After work, I went out for dinner with the team.

Just as we sat down at the restaurant, a colleague gasped, "An entertainment journalist spotted Mathias and Rachel looking at rings at a jewelry store, and Rachel's manager said they'd share any good news soon."