On the day of our fifth wedding anniversary, my husband's friend leaned toward him with a grin and asked in French, "How does your little assistant taste?"

My husband, ever the considerate man in public, handed me a slice of my favorite cantaloupe before replying just as casually in the same language, "Very young. Very tender."

"Remember to keep this a secret from my wife. If she ever found out, she'd surely leave me."

The group erupted in laughter, each of them swearing they'd keep his secret.

I stood there, my fingers tightening so hard around the wine glass that my knuckles turned white.

They didn't know—I understood French perfectly.

And I had already long known about my husband's mistress.

But I never confronted him, never shed tears or created a scene. Instead, I quietly submitted an application to the country's secluded research institute.

In three days, I would do exactly as he wished—disappear from his life forever.

——

From the corner of his eye, Logan noticed that I hadn't touched the cantaloupe. Concern flickered across his gaze as he asked me in English, "Baby, what's wrong?"

Looking at the man who appeared to have only me in his heart, I felt nothing but irony.

Moments ago he had been laughing about his mistress, and now he could look at me with such devoted affection, as if I were his entire world.

I couldn't help but wonder—just how far his lies could go?

"Nothing much," I answered lightly. "What were you talking about just now?"

Logan pinched my cheek with practiced tenderness, smiling indulgently.

"Business matters abroad. You don't like hearing about work, so we switched to French."

He must have forgotten—or perhaps never cared—that I had spent time studying in France during university.

The air around me suddenly felt suffocating. I pushed him gently aside.

"You all continue chatting. I'll go take a walk."

Without waiting for his response, I walked straight toward the doors of the banquet hall.

As I left, whispers followed me in hushed tones.

"That's Mrs. Miranda. She's really lucky. Not only was her wedding the event of the year back then, but every anniversary Mr. Miranda holds a grand celebration for her. She's truly blessed."

"Exactly. Why couldn't I meet a man like that?"

Once, those words of envy would have filled me with sweetness.

But now, my heart was nothing but still water.

No one knew that the man who supposedly loved me to the point of madness had already betrayed me.

Just yesterday, I had planned to surprise him with his anniversary gift ahead of time. I sneaked into his office without telling anyone, intending to give him a pleasant shock.

But while waiting, half-drowsy inside the storage cabinet, I was jolted awake by the sound of heavy breathing.

When I opened my eyes, I saw the man who once swore to love only me pressing his assistant, Angela, against the floor-to-ceiling window. Their bare bodies writhed against the spotless glass, leaving smudged traces of their betrayal.

They lingered there, entangled, for three full hours before finally dressing and leaving.

I couldn't remember how I survived those three hours—only the descent from despair and heartbreak into numbness.

By the time I walked out of that building, I knew my marriage with Logan was over.

A sudden ringtone snapped me from my thoughts.

"Arissa, I've already submitted your name to the research institute. In three days, someone will come to take you. Use these last few days to say goodbye to your family."

The word family made my grip on the phone tighten.

Ever since my parents' accident four years ago, my only family had been Logan.

But now, he had betrayed me.

And that meant I had no family left at all.

"Professor, there's no need. Please just submit a request to erase all of my records." I calmly replied.

There was a pause on the other end of the line before my mentor's startled voice came through.

"Erase your records? Arissa, do you realize what that means? It will be as if you never existed. The world will no longer know a person named Arissa. And what about Logan? If he can't find you, what then? I thought your marriage was solid."

A bitter smile tugged at my lips. "He cheated on me."

The phone fell silent for a long moment before a quiet sigh reached my ears.

"When you called yesterday, I suspected something had gone wrong between you two. I just didn't expect this..."

Another pause, then his voice steadied. "Alright. I'll take care of it. Use the next three days to settle your affairs."

Relief loosened my chest. Once my records were erased, I wouldn't even need to waste time on a divorce.

"Thank you, Professor."

The words had barely left my mouth when a familiar voice sounded behind me.

"Who cheated?"

I turned, meeting Logan's slightly panicked gaze. My expression didn't waver as I answered calmly, "My professor's other student's husband."

He studied my face closely. When he found no hint of suspicion, his shoulders relaxed.

Sliding an arm around my waist, he pressed a kiss against the crown of my head.

"Baby, don't worry. That kind of thing would never happen to me."

His eyes shone with such sincerity that I almost laughed. Instead, I asked softly, "And if you did?"

Without hesitation, he shook his head. "Impossible. I only love you."

"I mean if."

He thought for a moment, then brushed his cheek against mine, murmuring, "Then punish me by disappearing forever. Because, baby, you are my life. If I lost you, I wouldn't survive either."

I smiled faintly, saying nothing.

'Logan, your punishment is already on its way. In three days, I will vanish from your world completely.'

Before he could speak again, a female voice interrupted.

"Mr. Miranda, everything is ready."

Angela stood before us in a form-fitting pencil skirt. Her tone was professional and detached. She looked nothing like the woman whose flushed face had been pressed against his office window just yesterday.

Expressionless, Logan dismissed her with a wave. She left swiftly.

Watching their little performance, I could only feel bitter amusement.

Such perfect acting—both of them.

If I hadn't witnessed their entanglement with my own eyes, I might still be fooled.

Then his large hand gently covered my eyes. His voice lowered to a tender whisper in my ear.

"Baby, I have a surprise for you."

"Five... four... three..."

At the last count, he lifted his hand.

The night sky exploded with fireworks, blossoms of crimson roses blooming one after another until they formed the number 10, suspended against the darkness.

He drew me closer, his tone heavy with sentiment.

"Ten years, baby. We've been together for ten years. Time flies so quickly."

I tilted my head back, staring at the glowing number, a strange daze washing over me.

Yes... ten years.

From nineteen to twenty-nine—enough time to turn a boy who once loved me wholeheartedly into a stranger.

Enough time to reduce a once-true love into nothing but lies.

Logan turned, his gaze burning as he leaned down to kiss me. I was just about to turn away when the chime of his phone cut through the moment.

Annoyance darkened his features.

"I gave strict orders that no one must disturb me today. Let's see who dares to defy me."

When Logan saw the name flashing on the screen, his expression stiffened for just a moment.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the message header. Two glaring characters stood out: "Little Secretary."

Logan cleared his throat softly and angled his phone away, his fingers tapping across the screen with calm practice. But I saw it—the flicker of desire in his eyes.

Sure enough, the very next second, he turned to me with a look of feigned guilt.

"Baby, I'm sorry. Today is our anniversary, and I should've spent the whole day with you. But the company—"

I cut him off before he could finish weaving another lie.

"I understand. Work comes first."

Relief washed over his face. Normally, before leaving, he would give me a kiss goodbye. But this time, he offered only a perfunctory hug before turning away.

I stood still for a moment, then quietly instructed the assistant to handle the remaining guests and followed the direction he had left.

He didn't stop until he reached the underground parking lot.

The moment his car door opened, Angela shed her mask of professionalism and threw herself into his arms, lips pouting like a spoiled child.

"Mr. Miranda, that firework show made me so jealous."

Helpless affection softened his features. He tapped the tip of her nose with a finger.

"Didn't I set off fireworks for your birthday just a few days ago? What's there to be jealous about?"

"I promised you—as long as you behave and don't expose us to my wife, everything she has, you'll have too."

His words made my breath hitch.

Five days ago, the skies over the southern district were lit up with a thirty-minute firework display. That night, he'd claimed he was working overtime. I even snapped a photo and teasingly sent it to him, joking about which lovesick fool would go to such lengths to make his beauty smile.

Now I realized—that fool was him.

And I... was the greatest fool.

Angela let out a playful hum, tracing circles across his chest with her finger.

"Am I not even allowed to be jealous?"

He caught her restless hand, his voice lowering, rough with desire.

"Didn't you say you had something good to show me?"

With a wicked smile, she yanked on his tie, pulling their bodies flush together.

"Hehe, but Mr. Miranda has to open it himself... I guarantee it'll make you lose control."

His gaze darkened. In one swift motion, he scooped her into his arms and carried her into the car.

Angela gasped in surprise, but the rest of her sounds were smothered by his hungry kiss.

The car windows tinted upward, and soon after, the vehicle began to rock rhythmically.

Leaning against a cold concrete pillar, I could no longer hold back the tears. They streamed down, splattering onto the floor in heavy drops.

I had already witnessed their betrayal yesterday. Yet even now, seeing it again, the pain in my chest throbbed uncontrollably, raw and merciless.

When we first married, Logan had sworn to spend every anniversary at my side. But now, just one message from Angela was enough for him to abandon that vow. Was he truly that intoxicated with her?

I shut my eyes, forcing down the storm of emotions threatening to consume me.

Just three more days.

Three more days, and all of this would finally be over.

I didn't return to the banquet hall. Instead, I went straight home.

That night, half-asleep, I was jolted awake by the sound of a door slamming open.

Logan stood at the entrance, tension etched across his features. The moment he saw me, his shoulders sagged with visible relief.

"Baby, why didn't you tell me you came back? Do you know I nearly went mad when I couldn't find you at the banquet?"

I glanced at the clock on my phone—3 a.m. I came home at 9 p.m.

It took him six whole hours of indulging with Angela before he remembered to come looking for me.

How laughable.