"Someday, we'll make it public," Max said. "For now, our top priority is still handling this project."

I nodded, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

I didn't remind him that the real priority seemed to be the wedding that was just around the corner.

I also didn't remind him that on that very day, the divorce cooling-off period would end.

After all, in his eyes, Sandra still mattered most.

Throughout the project, Max's deliberate efforts to avoid situations where I might run into Sandra didn't go unnoticed by my partner.

Curious for gossip, she asked me, "Did you and Mr. Curtis have something going on in the past?"

I smiled. "How could that be?"

She smiled. "He's stolen a few looks at you. Those really guilty ones. It's the look of a man who isn't a complete jerk. He still stares at an ex he hasn't gotten over."

I froze for a moment and thought back carefully.

It wasn't that I hadn't noticed. It was just that everything in the past made it impossible for me to trust what I saw in his eyes.

Ten days left for the countdown.

Today, there was supposed to be a routine project meeting.

Sandra, intentionally or not, chatted with me for quite a while. I knew she had probably guessed the nature of my relationship with Max.

I responded politely, as always.

After the meeting, Max unexpectedly offered to drive me home.

It was the first time.

"Your professional ability really exceeded my expectations."

In five years of marriage, it was the first time Max had ever praised me.

My hands paused while I was packing up the documents. I looked at him in confusion.

Max hesitated for a long time before finally speaking. "Is it still possible to redo the wedding?"

I lowered my head. I knew he probably wanted to cancel it.

It was most likely because of Sandra.

"Let's cancel it. There aren't that many days left, anyway," I said. I looked up at him; I didn't call him out, unwilling to make things awkward.

Max stared at me in stunned silence. It was as if he had received an answer he never expected.

He then asked abruptly, "Don't you care at all?"

Fair enough. If this had happened in the past, I might have lost control on the spot and demanded an explanation.

Many moments of humiliation in our marriage had come from me losing my composure, even though every one of them had been caused by him.

I shook my head.

"What's there to care about? It's just a ceremony."

After a long silence, Max took the initiative to speak.

"What if I take you to an old city nearby for a getaway in a few days?"

I glanced at the countdown on my phone. There were ten days left while we were going through the process, so I declined.

I declined.

His hands on the steering wheel stiffened. He nearly ran a red light at the intersection.

"What about the beach? Or that restaurant you've always wanted to try?"

Max suggested several more ways to relax, but I turned each one down.

By the time we got out of the car, his expression had shifted from awkwardness and guilt to confusion and displeasure.

Seeing his expression, I spoke up first.

"How about we go see the old house?"

The old house was where Max and I lived when we first got married. I really did miss it a little.

Max froze for a long while. He was trying to guess my intentions.

Even after I got out of the car, he stayed seated inside. He sat there for a long time.

Finally, only one day was left as we were going through the process.

Perhaps some unspoken understanding had formed. Max and I rarely appeared together at project meetings anymore.

Occasionally, when Sandra wasn't around, Max would suddenly come downstairs. He wouldn't speak at the meeting. He would just sit there and look at me from time to time.

I didn't really understand what Max had been thinking lately, and I didn't want to.

I began moving my things out bit by bit, careful not to draw his attention.

But he still noticed.

One day, after a meeting, Max took the initiative to invite me to sit in his office for a while.

No sooner had I sat down than he asked, "You've moved a lot of your things out recently. And you haven't been staying at home, either."

I nodded and gave him a reason I had prepared long ago.

"Yeah. I'm staying at the old house for a while."

Max hesitated. He looked uncertain. "I've thought about the wedding for a long time. We could still redo it…"

I cut him off. "There's no need. There isn't much time left, anyway."

He looked startled. "What do you mean, not much time left?"

I hesitated and wondered if I should just show him the already-signed divorce settlement agreement.

Sandra's phone call came at exactly the right time.

I glanced at the name on his screen and smiled. "You should go take care of that first. We don't need to discuss this right now."

Max turned the doorknob. As if to make up for it, he looked back and made another promise. "I'll definitely go to the old house to see you tomorrow."

The next day, he still broke that promise.

I sat on the couch in the old house with my head lowered. I stared at my phone.

There were twelve hours left for the countdown.

A local news notification popped up.

Sandra appeared at the launch of a new project. Max stood behind her.

Recalling the promise he had made just yesterday, I snorted.

If he knew these were the last twelve hours of our marriage, would he still have broken his promise?

Maybe not, or maybe he still would have.

Either way, the answer no longer mattered.

I spent a few hours tidying up the house.

The old place was empty. There really wasn't much of my stuff left.

It was just that we had gotten married here, and I couldn't help but feel nostalgic.

I called my partner. I had already told her in advance, but I still said goodbye.

Then, I called my lawyer. "The divorce settlement agreement was notarized a month ago. I don't need to go through any additional procedures now, do I?"

The lawyer's reply was simple.

"No."

After a short pause, he congratulated me.

"Congratulations, Ms. Carroll."

I chuckled and hung up.

I stayed there in silence until nightfall.

Three hours left for the countdown. I packed all my luggage and bought a plane ticket for the next day.

Two hours left for the countdown. I cut every photo of the two of us, leaving only myself in the album.

One hour left for the countdown. I neatly placed the divorce settlement agreement on the table.

I thought about leaving a note. In the end, I decided against it.

Instead, I kept the words to myself.

"Honey, this is the last time I'll call you that. I have secretly loved you for ten years. Loving someone for ten years is hard. In the end, I chose to let go. Congratulations to you, and congratulations to me."

Dragging my suitcase, I placed my hand on the doorknob at the exact moment the countdown ended.

My marriage was over.

However, I never expected the door to open from the outside.

Max stood there, sweat on his forehead. He had clearly just gotten back from running. He was slightly out of breath, the guilt still visible in his smile.

"I'm sorry, Nicole. I just finished dropping someone off…"

His voice cut off abruptly as his gaze landed on my luggage and the plane ticket in my hand.

"Where are you going?"