After secretly registering our marriage, my lawyer husband, Benedict White, proposed holding a public wedding ceremony every time he gained favor with his lover, Anna Lester.

Over three years, Benedict asked me thirty-three times and broke thirty-three promises.

The first time, Anna’s dog died.

He said we had to mourn for three months to honor it.

I stood in a wedding dress and apologized endlessly to the friends and relatives seated below the stage.

The second time, Anna had menstrual pain.

He turned around on the way and went to care for her.

After that, every ceremony he promised came with a new problem from Anna.

I cried. I protested.

Yet Benedict always said, “She's just a friend with benefits. You’re my wife. Don’t be so petty about it.”

After the thirty-third time, I finally grew tired.

I slid a divorce agreement across the table in front of him.

“Let’s get this over with.”

Benedict White missed our wedding ceremony for the thirty-second time after the celebration banquet for his nine hundred and ninety-ninth successful case.

Anna Lester had carefully organized the banquet for him.

At the party, everyone assumed Anna was his girlfriend.

“Mr. White and Miss Lester grew up together, and so make such a perfect match!

“In this day and age, wouldn’t it be inappropriate to celebrate the couple?”

“Yes! We want to see them toast each other!”

The shouts reached my ears.

As the woman who had been legally married to Benedict for three years yet never publicly acknowledged, I could only shrink into a corner and watch him gaze at Anna with deep affection as they crossed their wine glasses and drank deeply.

After the banquet ended, afraid our relationship might be exposed, I waited for Benedict at the intersection beside the hotel.

A black car slowly pulled up, the window sliding down to reveal Anna’s sleeping face in the passenger seat.

Benedict looked at me, his tone as matter-of-fact as ever.

“Get a ride home. I need to send Anna back to her place.”

I lowered my eyes and remained silent.

Benedict had a severe obsession with cleanliness and never allowed any lingering scents in his car.

Once, because of his stubborn temperament, he had offended a client.

I nearly drank myself to death just to apologize on his behalf.

Yet afterward, he frowned at me with open disgust and said, “You reek. Figure out your own way back.”

That day, he abandoned me alone in the snow-covered outskirts of the city.

I walked for four hours before I finally reached home.

Now, the drunken Anna slept peacefully in his passenger seat.

It turned out his rules existed only for me.

I smiled bitterly and tried to keep my voice steady.

“Are we still having our ceremony tomorrow?”

Benedict hesitated.

“I definitely have to take care of Anna tonight. I won’t make it tomorrow, so let’s just reschedule.”

A chill spread through my chest, but I still nodded lightly and said, “Alright.”

After a pause, I took a document out of my bag and handed it to Benedict.

“Please sign this.”

Perhaps out of guilt, Benedict did not even look at it.

He took the pen and signed.

Then he gazed at me.

“When I come home tomorrow, I’ll buy you your favorite dessert from the west side of the city,” he promised.

With that, he drove away.

…

By the time Benedict returned home, it was already noon the next day.

He stood in front of the mirror and removed the shirt stained with Anna’s lipstick.

Suddenly, he stopped, tilted his head slightly, and looked at me through the reflection as I sat on the edge of the bed.

“What was the document you asked me to sign yesterday?”

I lifted my head.

A flicker of sadness crossed my eyes before fading back into calm.

“You didn’t ask when you signed it, and now you suddenly remember?” I asked.

“I just thought of it. Besides, you’re my wife. Don’t think you’d do anything to harm me,” Benedict replied confidently.

He seemed unconcerned.

I lowered my eyes, hiding the pain beneath them.

“Are you not afraid I made you sign our divorce agreement, or a property transfer?”

At my words, Benedict’s heart tightened.

He frowned, a trace of panic and displeasure flashing across his face.

“Are you joking with me?”

He stepped closer, gently cupped my face, and said in a voice both tender and firm, “You know this. If you ever left me, I would go insane.

“If I really had to choose between the two, I’d rather it be a transfer of my assets.”

Benedict looked at me, unable to conceal the deep affection in his eyes.

I knew it was true that he could not live without me, and that his feelings were sincere.

So the “joke” I made was also real.

What I had asked him to sign was precisely the divorce agreement dissolving our marriage.

Five years of pursuit, three years of marriage.

Benedict and I were finally coming to an end.

…

That afternoon, when I arrived at the firm, I went straight to the human resources office and submitted my resignation letter.

The HR manager looked up, recognized me, and showed clear surprise.

“Have you really made up your mind, Maya?

“You’ve been with Mr. White the longest. We always said in private that even if the firm went bankrupt, you would never leave.

“So why so suddenly…”

The manager did not finish the sentence, and I lowered my eyes.

Before yesterday, I had believed the same thing.

I had built the law firm from nothing with Benedict, step by step.

We worked together and struggled together.

When we received our very first case, Benedict used the legal fee to treat me to a lavish meal.

That day, we sat in a restaurant fifty-four floors high, looking down at the endless stream of cars below.

Benedict held me and said that he was blessed to have had me by his side.

A sad smile tugged at my lips.

“Everyone has their own path. I’ve already made up my mind.”

The HR manager looked at me, regret filling their eyes.

“Since you’ve decided, then I wish you well in the future.”

I thanked her softly and walked out of the office.

As soon as I returned to my desk, my phone chimed.

I picked it up and saw that Anna had posted on her social feed.

The photo showed Benedict lying on a bed, his sleeping face peaceful and serene.

The caption read: [Drank too much last night. Luckily, I had someone to look out for me. He was thanked generously, of course, wink wink.]

Afraid I might miss it, she even tagged me.

This was not the first time Anna had done this.

Out of every ten posts she made, three mentioned me directly, and the remaining seven were visible only to me.

In the past, I would always be easily provoked by these petty tactics.

I argued with Benedict. I caused scenes.

Every time, he dismissed it lightly and told me, “She's just a friend with benefits. You’re my wife. Don’t be so petty about it.”

Benedict was certain that I loved him and would never leave him, so he hurt me without restraint.

I smiled, though my heart broke into a thousand pieces.

Suddenly, a colleague beside me let out a startled cry. “Look, Mr. White’s girlfriend is here.”

I followed their gaze.

Anna walked into Benedict’s office in high heels, her hips swaying with each step.

Then his office blinds were lowered, cutting off my view of the couple.

I lowered my eyes, my thoughts drifting uncontrollably back to the past.

Benedict had me pinned against the office desk.

A strange light flickered in his eyes as he smiled and said, “Don’t you think what we’re doing feels like an affair? Thrilling, isn’t it?”

His sweat dripped onto me as he held me.

“At the wedding, I’ll make our relationship public.”

I smiled at my past self, foolish and pitiful, believing his sweet lies over and over again.

Then I was deceived thirty-two times.

Now, with the divorce agreement and resignation letter in my bag, there would be no next time.

…

Two hours later, my colleagues and I were busy handing over work when Benedict sent me a message: [Send a cup of coffee in.]

He was notoriously picky; the balance of sugar and bitterness in his coffee had to be exact.

In the company, only I could make it taste just the way he liked.

Sighing, I got up to prepare the coffee.

I did not expect to see Anna in the pantry.

When she saw me enter, a disdainful smile tugged at her lips.

“Your temper is improving, Maya. I thought you were about to burst into the office and catch us in the act.”

She deliberately lifted her chin, revealing the glaring red mark on her neck.

“Is that so?” I lowered my eyes and picked up the coffee beans.

“Want a cup? It has excellent notes.”

My calm left Anna momentarily stunned.

She appraised me from head to toe, as if inspecting some strange creature.

“What are you showing off? Do you really not think Benedict would divorce you?

“I’ll tell you the truth. Back then, it was my little joke that made Benedict register his marriage with you.

“That’s why he never had a wedding ceremony.”

“What are you on about, Anna?” said a voice.

Benedict’s tall figure squeezed into the pantry.

His face showed panic as he quietly rebuked Anna.

But Anna clung to his arm like a spoiled child.

“Well, isn't it the truth? You only agreed to marry Maya to appease me.”

Benedict’s expression twisted into something rather ugly.

He seemed ready to argue as he opened his mouth, but said nothing.

His eyes darted nervously, avoiding mine, his face written with guilt and confusion.

I stood frozen, Anna’s words echoing in my ears.

Between Benedict and me, it had always been me taking the initiative.

I had pursued him for five years, from my first awkward confession to finally gathering the courage to propose.

He had never refused me, but he had never truly agreed either.

The day Benedict suggested registering our marriage, I had been so happy I could not sleep all night.

I had believed my love had finally reached him, that he held me in his heart.

But now, the cruel reality cut through every one of my fantasies like a knife.

I let a bitter smile tug at my lips and pushed the brewed coffee in front of Benedict.

“Your coffee is ready, Mr. White. I’ll be leaving now.”

With that, I ignored his flustered expression and silently turned to leave.

That evening, just as I was about to turn in, my phone rang.

It was Benedict.

“Hey Maya. What Anna said this afternoon… It’s all nonsense.

“Don’t take it to heart.”