It has been 99 times that Henry and I have filed the application for divorce and then withdrawn it.

Each time before finalizing the divorce, Henry always waits for me to humbly beg him to stay married.

I turned down the offer to be the chief composer at a famous studio in Vienna because Henry didn't want a long-distance relationship.

I deleted all my male friends because Henry didn't want me to be too friendly to them.

I stopped wearing red lipstick, composing, and traveling alone, because he said married women should stay at home instead of being impulsive.

Only after I finally manage to appease him will he allow me to withdraw the divorce application.

After my 100th divorce application, as I was leaving, the deputy clerk asked me curiously:

"So, when are you going to withdraw your application this time?"

I looked at Henry's cold back in front of me, forced to smile with tears, and told myself in my heart—

This time, there will be no withdrawal of the application.

After the 30-day cooling-off period, we'll be officially divorced.

But why did his love only find its voice when I had already walked away?

It has been 99 times that Henry and I have filed the application for divorce and then withdrawn it.

Each time before finalizing the divorce, Henry always waits for me to humbly beg him to stay married.

I turned down the offer to be the chief composer at a famous studio in Vienna because Henry didn't want a long-distance relationship.

I deleted all my male friends because Henry didn't want me to be too friendly to them.

I stopped wearing red lipstick, composing, and traveling alone, because he said married women should stay at home instead of being impulsive.

Only after I finally manage to appease him will he allow me to withdraw the divorce application.

After my 100th divorce application, as I was leaving, the deputy clerk asked me curiously:

"So, when are you going to withdraw your application this time?"

I looked at Henry's cold back in front of me, forced to smile with tears, and told myself in my heart—

This time, there will be no withdrawal of the application.

After the 30-day cooling-off period, we'll be officially divorced.

But why did his love only find its voice when I had already walked away?

...

Outside the district court, the wind blew.

As soon as I walked out, I saw Henry get into that black Maybach without even looking back, not even giving me a glance.

I walked slowly along the sidewalk with the cold wind rushing in, my heart feeling like a gash that had been torn open.

"Screech…"

The piercing sound of brakes suddenly rang out behind me.

Before I could react, I was knocked to the ground by a car.

My knees burned with pain, and my palms were scraped raw.

I looked up and saw Henry's group of good buddies jumping out of the car.

It turned out to be Henry's car.

"Oh my gosh! We hit Henry's wife!"

After said that, the man was nudged by the person behind him:

"You can't call her Henry's wife anymore. They're already submitting the divorce application. Henry hasn't agreed to withdraw the application yet."

I supported myself on the ground, trying to stand up, but my knees couldn't hold my weight.

Through my messy hair, I saw the rear window of the Maybach roll down halfway, and Henry's stern profile appeared in my sight.

Seeing me knocked to the ground, someone ran to ask Henry for instructions.

"Henry, should we take Amelia to the hospital, or just go to the party?"

There was a short silence.

I stared intently at that car window, meeting Henry's icy eyes, and I saw the answer.

My heart pounded with pain.

"Go to the party."

Henry's voice came from behind the car, cold as if it had been quenched in ice.

The four light and airy words pierced my heart like a knife.

Henry's Maybach sped away, its exhaust fumes blasting in my face.

I gritted my teeth and slowly got up, limping towards home.

Every step sent shooting pain through my knee, but it was nothing compared to the immense pain in my heart.

As soon as I got back home, the first thing I did was pack my bags.

I dug out the proofs of my love for Henry over the years, including the jewelry Henry casually tossed to me, Henry's lighters I secretly collected, and a notebook filled with his preferences that I had painstakingly written down.

I threw them all into the trash can one by one.

Finally, I pulled out a Kraft paper bag from the deepest part of the drawer.

This wasn't the first time I'd seen this paper bag, but as I opened it again, my fingers were still trembling.

Because this entire bag was full of love letters.

Henry wrote these love letters to me secretly.

I never received it.

[On the way to class today, I saw you very early. I knew you were waiting for me, but you didn't know I had been waiting for you for a while already.]

[When we played basketball today, I only took the water you gave me. But why did you bring water for the whole team? I hope you can just bring water for me the next time.]

[This is the third year you’ve been chasing after me, and I almost couldn’t resist saying yes. But then I thought that I could wait a little longer and enjoy being chased by you a bit more.]

Every word, every sentence, stabbed painfully at my heart.

If I hadn't accidentally stumbled upon these love letters a few days ago, I wouldn't have believed that Henry, who has been so cold to me all these years, actually liked me!

The first time I saw Henry was at the university opening ceremony.

As the student representative giving the speech, he was as dazzling as the sun in the sky.

Just one look, and I fell in love with him.

Many people were chasing Henry at school, but I was the most persistent.

I bought him coffee before class, but he never knew it was from me.

I memorized his class schedule, not to stalk him, but to be there at his every speech and every competition, cheering him on.

Once, he sprained his ankle during a basketball game, and I skipped class and rode my bike all the way downtown to buy him the best kind of pain relief ointment that he had mentioned before.

Four years, 1460 days, of following him like a little tail, and I finally caught the sun in my heart.

Henry finally agreed to be with me.

Even after we were together, Henry remained cold to me, never responding.

Even our marriage was proposed by me.

But I was happy to endure these.

However, three years after our marriage, he proposed divorce ninety-nine times.

The first time was because the steak I made was too salty. Henry said, annoyed, "You can't even do such a small thing well!"

The second time was because I wore a dress he didn't like.

……

The 98th time was because Henry stipulated that I could only send him ten messages a day, and I accidentally sent one extra, a "Goodnight".

Each time, I would humbly beg him not to divorce me.

The 99th time, I knelt and kissed his shoe, and he barely agreed to withdraw the divorce application.

And that night, I unintentionally discovered a cowhide bag locked in a hidden compartment under the attic floor tiles—

Inside were Henry's love letters to me, starting from the first year I pursued him.

So, Henry had liked me all along.

So, Henry's repeated proposals of divorce were just to see me crying and begging him not to leave.

He enjoyed my love but treated my sincerity as a toy for his amusement.

The next day, Henry proposed divorce for the 100th time.

The reason was still absurd, simply because I ate a cookie in his car and dropped crumbs.

I looked at the man I had loved for seven years and suddenly felt like I didn't know him at all.

This time, I don't want to play this game with him anymore.

So, this time, I won't do as he wishes and beg him pathetically again.

It's completely over between us.

I forcefully wiped away my tears and continued packing my luggage.

But halfway through packing, I realized that the champion medal I won in the music composition contest was missing.

That was the first championship medal I earned in my life, a testament to my abilities, and the only remaining light I have after stopping my career. It holds extraordinary significance for me.

I clearly and carefully placed it in the gift box I made with my own hands, but now it is empty.

I searched for the entire room, even under the bed, but the champion medal seemed to have vanished.

I sat on the floor, my fingers unconsciously clenching the hem of my clothes.

Only Henry had been in my room.

Remembering the club location Henry's buddy mentioned outside the district court, I made up my mind, grabbed my coat, and went out.

At the entrance of the club's private room, even before I pushed the door open, I could clearly hear the mocking laughter of Henry's friends inside.

"I bet five days! Amelia definitely won't last five days before begging Henry to withdraw the application!"

"Five days is too long. It's known to all that Amelia can't live without Henry. I bet three days."

"I bet one day! Didn't she kneel and beg Henry not to divorce her the very night he proposed?"

"Henry, how many days do you bet?"

The room fell silent for a moment.

Henry sat in the center, his slender fingers holding a whiskey glass, seemingly lost in thought.

Just as he was about to speak, I abruptly pushed the door open and said:

"I bet forever!"

I had just said "I bet forever" when a soft, beautiful voice drowned me out.

"Sorry, I'm late."

Fiona walked in on high heels, instantly attracting everyone's attention.

She laughed, took Henry's arm, and leaned intimately on his shoulder.

I watched their intimate posture and closed my eyes, trembling.

Fiona was Henry's childhood sweetheart, and from the time we started dating until we got married, she always appeared in our lives inappropriately.

And Henry never drove her away, even tacitly allowing her to challenge me again and again.

Once, I doubted Henry's feelings for Fiona.

But it wasn't until I saw those love letters that I realized—

Fiona was just a tool he used to provoke my jealousy.

Henry enjoyed the way I was jealous of love.

Henry looked towards the door and finally noticed me standing there.

He frowned slightly and asked, "What are you doing here?"

I clenched the strap of my bag tightly, realizing that he hadn't heard a word I said earlier.

"The champion medal I left at home is missing," I said, looking directly at him, "I came to ask if you've seen it."

Henry was visibly stunned for a moment, then his eyes darkened with a little disappointment:

"Just for that?"

"Or else?" I retorted, "What did you think I came for?"

His face instantly darkened.

I was too familiar with that expression—

Every time I didn't do things the way he expected, he would show this displeasing expression.

This time, Henry must think I was here to beg him to withdraw the divorce application.

"Are you talking about that champion medal?" Fiona suddenly interjected, "I said I wanted it the other day, and Henry gave it to me."

She tilted her head, looking completely innocent, "But I accidentally lost it after I got home..."

My mind went blank, and the blood rushed to my head:

"Do you have any right to give my things away to someone else?"

"It's just a champion medal," Henry interrupted me coldly, "Why are you making such a fuss? I'll buy you ten more another day."

"That was my first champion honor! It has become a part of me, and I can't even bear to let it catch a speck of dust！" I almost shouted it out, my voice trembling.

The private room fell silent instantly.

Henry was clearly stunned, but quickly regained his indifferent demeanor:

"It's already lost. What do you want me to do? Don't make such a big deal out of it."

I bit my lip hard until it bled, tasting the blood in my mouth.

I already said it was my cherished possession, yet he still thinks I'm being unreasonable.

Henry, is this how you like me?

I know I couldn't get the medal back. I turned and left. I guess if I stayed another second, I would break down.

I heard the sound of a chair moving behind me.

Henry got up: "It's time to end the party, let's go."

He followed me.

As I walked out of the club, the night wind stung my cheeks.

I kept my head down and walked quickly, not wanting them to see my reddened eyes.

Suddenly, there was a "creaking" noise overhead.

Before I could react, I heard someone scream behind me: "Watch out!"

I looked up and saw a huge billboard falling towards us.

In that instant, Henry lunged towards me.

But after meeting my eyes, Henry actually changed direction at the last second, protecting Fiona beneath him.

"Bang!"

In the instant the excruciating pain struck, I only felt pathetic.

Just to avoid revealing that he likes me, could he disregard my life?

When I woke up again, I smelled the pungent smell of disinfectants and knew I was in the hospital.

I struggled to turn my neck to see around. The hospital room was empty.

"You're awake?" A nurse pushed the door open, "You've been unconscious for two days. Luckily, it's just a mild concussion."

"Who brought me here?" My throat was so dry I could barely speak.

"Your husband," the nurse said while adjusting the IV drip rate, "He was frantic when you were covered in blood, almost tore the hospital apart. But strangely, after hearing the doctor say you would wake up soon, he rushed off, saying he had something urgent. He is so strange."

I closed my eyes, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

He is not strange at all.

After all, he wouldn't reveal even a trace of his affection for me in front of others.

Two days later, Fiona's composing work won first prize.

Henry specially held a grand celebration banquet for Fiona.

Under the crystal chandeliers, he stayed by Fiona's side the entire time, shielding her from toasts, adjusting her dress.

He looks unusually gentle and considerate.

The guests whispered, "Henry was so good to his childhood sweetheart, yet so cold to his wife. If Amelia hadn't humbly tried to salvage it every time, this marriage would have ended long ago."

I stood in a corner, swirling my champagne glass, ignoring their gossip.

Halfway through the banquet, I walked alone to the artificial lake for some relaxation.

The evening breeze was a bit cool, making me feel more awake.

"Can't take it anymore, huh? I told you I was the one Henry loved."

Fiona's voice came from behind me, dripping with smug victory.

She strutted over in high heels, sneering: "If I were you, I wouldn't have the face to stay here."

I couldn't even be bothered to look at her: "Get out of my way."

"Why are you so arrogant? You pursued Henry for four years, and you've been married for three years, but you still haven't gotten his eyes on you even a second. It's truly pathetic of you." Fiona said with a mocking tone, "Do you believe that even if I pushed you in the lake now, he wouldn't even care about you?"

As soon as she finished speaking, Fiona pushed me hard—

"Thump!"

The cold lake water instantly submerged my mouth and nose. I struggled to call for help, but more water poured in.

In my blurred vision, I saw a figure rushing over frantically, jumping into the lake without hesitation.

"Amelia!!!"

Henry's voice was filled with unprecedented worry.

He swam towards me frantically, his arms holding my waist tightly.

In a daze, I saw his eyes, and the fear and anxiety within them were so real that I was momentarily stunned.

Fiona, standing on the shore, was completely stunned. She couldn't believe her eyes—

Henry, who was always indifferent to me, was now jumping into the lake like a madman.

The way he held me was as if he were protecting a treasured possession that had been lost and found.

No! It is impossible!

She must have seen it wrong.

After being rescued, Henry knelt on the ground and gave me CPR, his slender fingers trembling constantly, until I coughed up some water, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

But the next second, his expression suddenly froze, as if he had suddenly realized that he shouldn't show such concern.

He stood up, quickly collected all his emotions, and returned to his cold demeanor:

"How can you fall into the lake even when just attending a party?"

I sat on the ground, soaked to the bone, clutching the wet hem of my dress tightly, but my voice was unusually clear: "I didn't fall in myself. Fiona pushed me in."

Fiona's eyes immediately reddened, and she shook her head desperately: "Amelia, I didn't! How could you frame me like this?"

"Fine." I trembly took out my phone from my pocket, "Since you won't admit it, then let the police investigate. It is attempted murder. You will definitely receive the punishment you deserve."

I was about to dial 911 when Henry grabbed my wrist, stopping me.

"It's enough." His voice was impatient, and the force in his hand was so great it almost crushed my bones. "Fiona didn't do it on purpose, don't make a fuss to get my eyes."

I suddenly looked up, unable to believe my ears: "Get your eyes? Fiona almost killed me!"

"Aren't you standing here perfectly fine?" Henry emphasized his tone, his eyes warning, "Don't make trouble."

I suddenly felt incredibly sad.

I know Henry needs Fiona to stimulate me.

But for this ridiculous game, he doesn't even care about my life?

"I'm not making a fuss." I said, word by word, firmly pressing 911, "I have to call the police."

"I said it is enough!" Henry suddenly raised his voice and snatched my phone, "You're losing your mind right now. Go back and reflect on yourself."

After speaking, he waved for the guard: "Take her to the isolation room until she figures things out."

As the guards dragged me towards the isolation room, I struggled violently.

"Henry! Are you crazy?" My voice hoarse, I shouted, "She's trying to kill me! You clearly know!"

My fingernails scratched several bloody marks on the guard's arm, and my high heels fell to the ground in the struggle.

But the guard's strength was too strong. I was like a butterfly with pinned wings, fluttering helplessly.

Before falling completely into darkness, the last thing I saw was Henry standing in the backlight, a faint curve on his lips.

He was laughing.

He's actually laughing.

I suddenly got the point. He's feeling smug because I'm jealous of other women.

……

This isolation room, less than three square meters, had no windows, and a sense of suffocation instantly engulfed me.

"Let me out..." My voice began to tremble.

My claustrophobia kicked in, and I was overcome with immense fear.

I remembered when I was ten years old, and my stepmother locked me in the basement for three days and three nights.

That feeling of being abandoned by the whole world, I felt it again after so many years.

But this time, it was caused by someone who claimed to love me, for the sake of his so-called game.

I huddled in the corner, digging my nails deep into my palms.

I heard the sound of rats crawling in the darkness, and I bit my lip tightly, afraid to make a sound.

Time became blurred, and I didn't know if it had been an hour or a whole day.

I refused to eat any of the food that was brought, and I knocked the water glass to the ground.

My throat was so dry that I couldn't make any sound, but the psychological torment was even more devastating than the physical pain.

The next day, when the door of the isolation room finally opened, the harsh light made me instinctively close my eyes.

"Are you still pursuing that matter?" Henry's voice came from above me.

I weakly raised my head and saw the man standing against the light.

After a day apart, he was still impeccably dressed in a suit, and even his cufflinks were perfect.

While I was a mess, disheveled and pathetic, like a madwoman.

I suddenly laughed, laughed until tears streamed down my face: "I won't pursue it anymore..."

I said weakly, "I won't pursue anything anymore."

I just wanted freedom.

Away from Fiona, away from Henry, away from this terrible place.

Henry frowned, looking at my abnormal reaction, somewhat surprised.

His brief pause betrayed his unease.

But soon, he returned to his cold expression: "Remember what you said."

He turned and left, not seeing the resolute light in my eyes.

Henry, making me suffer is what you want?

You said you liked me, but you cause me pain and get me into trouble.

You said you like me, but you don't even care about my life.

Fine, if you enjoy my suffering because of you, then you've won.

You've achieved your goal.

But this is the last time you have the opportunity to hurt me.