The night before our wedding anniversary party, my husband—Harvey Clarke—receives constant calls from his first love, Cassie Moss. He responds by holding me closer, and I ask, "Aren't you going to pick up? What if it's urgent?"

He firmly shakes his head and says he has already moved on. But when he receives news of her at the party, he breaks down right there and then, oblivious to the room of staring guests. When he tries to leave, I stop him in a panic, but he turns to me with a pure look of disgust.

"Cassie's dead. Happy now?"

The words hit me like a lightning bolt.

Harvey didn't hesitate to yank his hand off and walk out, never once looking back.

Even after he was gone, I was frozen in that moment and could still see the look of pure hatred in his eyes. It was a mix of venom and bitterness so intense that it nearly brought me to my knees.

His mother—Wendy—rushed forward to steady me and stomped her foot. "This is such a mess!"

I steadied myself, forced a smile, and turned back to appease the guests with the excuse that Harvey had left for an urgent issue at the company. But everyone had seen what happened and knew I was just trying to preserve what was left of my dignity.

Their looks carried disdain, mockery, and a touch of pity.

With that, it was official that on our wedding anniversary, Harvey—my husband—abandoned me for his first love—Cassie Moss—and left me alone to face the guests.

One of our mutual friends raised a glass as though to console me. "The dead are the priority right now."

I stayed silent and didn't argue.

It made sense. Even if it had just been a casual friend, death would have been a solemn distress, not to mention that this was Harvey's first love, who had weighed heavily in his heart.

Before walking away, he had asked if this was what I wanted. But I hadn't known what to say when I had no idea what I had done wrong.

Last night, Cassie had called again and again. I had asked if he'd like to answer, but he had resolutely said no. The constant ringing annoyed him so much that he completely shut off his phone and pulled me in for a tight hug.

"The phone's too loud, and I just wanna be here with you. Don't tell me to answer it, babe. Please don't doubt how I feel about you, alright?"

I thought he had moved on and believed that after five years, we had finally found our way into each other's hearts.

After sending off the last of the guests, I dragged my exhausted body home. What should have been a celebratory party turned into my punishment site.

The house was a mess with things knocked out of place. The sound of Harvey's sobs came from the bedroom, and he was crying so hard it seemed he might choke on it.

I had only seen him cry like that on the day he lost his wedding ring on a trip. I had spent hours soothing him until he calmed down and bought us a new set of rings. And now, his tears were flowing for someone else.

Bending over, I picked up a pillow from the floor and asked softly, "Is there something about the house that makes you unhappy?"

Instead of answering, he asked in a broken voice, "If I had answered her call last night, would I have been able to see her one last time?"

"And then what?"

My words stopped him cold, and he had no answer.

A heavy weariness settled over me as I gathered the scattered items on the floor. Suddenly, he shot up from the bed and dragged out a suitcase. Turning around, he opened the closet and began stuffing clothes inside.

The shirts I had ironed, folded, and sorted into neat stacks were now tossed in like rags, forming a tangled mess.

"I've packed for your business trip. It's the set on the far right."

Ignoring me, he rummaged through his clothes faster and faster, flinging them everywhere. When he couldn't find what he wanted, he started panicking. He grabbed my shoulders and shook me. "Where's that shirt? The white shirt with the ink stain on the collar?"

"It was yellowing, so I donated it. You already have plenty of white shirts."

His eyes flashed with a ferocious glint, and his voice sharpened. "Who told you you could touch my stuff?"

And with that, he slapped me hard across my face. Dazed, I stumbled back against the door, clutching my stinging cheek.

After life started getting better for both of us, I would donate clothes I could no longer fit into. He used to call me kind for that and said I could do whatever I wanted with his old clothes.

Now, my chest felt hollow. He wasn't packing for a business trip at all. All he wanted was to wear that shirt from Cassie to meet her one last time.

In truth, our anniversary wasn't until two days later, but he had to travel for work, so he decided to move the party up. I had found it troublesome and suggested keeping it simple. "Why not skip the party this year? Let's just have dinner with the family."

He had gently kissed me then. "No. You deserve a party and the best of everything, babe."

And now, he had canceled his business trip just to show up at Cassie's funeral. But what role would he claim there? A friend seemed too insignificant, and an ex-boyfriend would only invite mockery.

As I watched him frantically pack, I slipped off our wedding ring before leaving it on the shoe cabinet by the door. Perhaps it was time to reconsider whether we had any reason to continue this marriage.

Rory called while I was at work.

"Jilian, could you reach Harvey? He sent me a proposal, then disappeared. I'm here just as a filler, so he should at least walk me through it."

I switched over to WhatsApp, where the dozens of texts I had sent Harvey were all unanswered. And as if I had annoyed him, the last text bounced back with a red exclamation mark.

"Maybe he's just too busy. I'm sorry, Rory. Let me call him for you."

"Thanks, Jilian. I'll be waiting for your good news."

After his promotion to manager, Harvey was assigned an assistant, Rory. The kid was quick-witted but hardly stepped in when it came to actual projects.

When I dialed, the line rang and rang before cutting off. After I tried several times again, he finally picked up. The background was noisy, and his voice came through thick and nasal. "Stop blowing up my phone. Aren't you tired of this?"

He sounded so upset, as though the one who had died was his wife.

For a moment, I froze. First, it was because he had never spoken to me like this, though part of me had seen it coming. Second, it was because of the voice of an older woman in the background. It had gone hoarse from crying.

"Harvey, if only Cassie had married you back then. She was unhappy all these years and had always wanted to reach out to you, but you're already married. If only she had waited a little longer, the two who truly loved each other wouldn't have had to miss their chance."

So, those two had been so close to marriage. I pinched my arm to snap out of it. "Rory said the project—"

"I've handed everything over. Don't bother yourself with it," he said, impatiently cutting me off.

Then, realizing his sharp tone, he softened his voice to say, "I'm at Cassie's funeral. We'll talk later."

After the line went dead, I sat still, staring at my phone for a long time. He had forgotten that today was our fifth wedding anniversary. He was at his first love's funeral, crying as if the world had ended.

All I could do was send Rory an apology, and he replied with a sticker.

[Cheer up, Jilian. It'll be fine once everything blows over.]

But if I claimed that I wasn't sad, I would just be lying to myself. Why did I have to wait for this to blow over? How long was I supposed to endure this grief?

The way Harvey cared so much made me wonder if all those times he seemed lost in thought, he had been thinking of someone else, whom he had done similar things with.