My best friend and I got married on the same day, both joining the illustrious Gonzalez family. I married the older brother, Harrison Gonzalez, the CEO, while she married the younger brother, Ethan Gonzalez, the artist. Our childhood playmates became our husbands, and my close friend became my sister-in-law. We believed we were marrying for love. However, as time went on, our deep friendship contrasted sharply with our strained marriages. Gossip surrounded Harrison, and Ethan had a flirtatious nature. It felt as though we were trapped, like birds in a cage, longing for freedom.

I found myself turning into the kind of wife who stayed up late, anxiously waiting for her husband to come home. With a heavy heart, I realized we couldn't continue like this. "This can’t go on. We need to end these marriages."

My best friend immediately concurred, "Married together, divorced together."

Without a second thought, we left the divorce papers on the table and set off. We flew overseas and quickly gathered a small team to start filming a short series.

Late at night, in the presidential suite of a five-star hotel... While I was running through lines with a young, charming actor, I found myself cornered by the door. Harrison stood there, fists clenched, eyes bloodshot, "What does he have that I don't?"

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As I walked into Harrison’s office, a chorus of whispers followed me.

"Is she really fit to be Mrs. Gonzalez?"

"I heard she snagged the CEO back in college, beating others to the punch."

"She’s just eye candy, a trophy wife. What else does she bring to the table besides being a burden?"

Their voices were calculated to reach my ears. Just as I was ready to respond, my best friend called, having been unceremoniously ejected from Ethan’s studio by his secretary. They deemed it a sacred space, off-limits to family, and even ridiculed her for disrupting the artist’s creative flow.

In many ways, the Gonzalez brothers were similar—both in looks and in how they behaved. Phone calls went unanswered, texts were ignored. Soon, whispers among the elite hinted that the Gonzalez brothers had been caught in romantic entanglements with classmates since their school days. Young and inexperienced, their affairs became scandalous public dramas, pushing them into marriage.

Apparently, the brothers privately regretted these unions. Childhood sweethearts couldn’t rival strategic business marriages. What use was a beautiful wife if she didn't contribute to the Gonzalez Corporation?

The rumors spread until they reached us directly. Both my friend and I were livid, but the brothers remained indifferent, dismissing our concerns as irrational. One used work as an excuse, the other hid behind his art, coming home later each night. Ethan was especially notorious for his disappearances; my friend once found herself blocked at the studio by a secretary in a provocative outfit, who belittled her.

After hearing my friend’s tearful account, I came to a decision. "This can’t go on. We need to end these marriages."

My best friend immediately agreed, "Married together, divorced together."

Scarlett and I both grew up as only children, showered with love and attention. We had never experienced such emotional neglect before. When leadership is flawed, those beneath often follow suit. Without Harrison and his brother's influence, would anyone dare to mock us so openly? This lifestyle isn't for us, nor for anyone we care about. So we decided to take action. We consulted with lawyers to draft divorce papers and searched worldwide for new business ventures.

Scarlett and I were so engrossed in our flurry of activities that the brothers remained completely oblivious. If they don't care about us, why would they even notice? We figured that even if we disappeared, they might not realize it.

From that day on, we stopped watching to see what time they came home. We each went about our own lives and found it surprisingly liberating. Late one night, Harrison returned from entertaining clients, smelling of alcohol. Yet, he produced a takeout box from behind him and handed it to me.

It was my favorite dish, a savory treat from Frank's Deli. Holding me, he urged me to eat it quickly. As I opened the box, he leaned in close, mentioning the long queue he'd stood in to get it, and asked how I planned to reward him. I gave him a dismissive glance and chose to ignore him, focusing on my meal instead.

Undeterred, he wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me close. His warm breath tickled my ear, just as it always had. After so many years of love, I knew him too well. Every time he messed up, he'd try to charm his way back. Not once had he broken this routine.

As dawn broke, he held me close, sleeping soundly. Listening to his even breaths and taking in his familiar scent, my heart felt hollow, a sharp ache that wouldn't go away.