Outside the courthouse, Michelle, William's landlady, fainted. He abandoned me to take her, freshly divorced, to the hospital. I didn't cry or make a scene. After tidying up, I saw a post from Michelle with a picture of William leaning on her hospital bed, captioned, "Now that I'm divorced, I can finally be with you openly."

　　I liked the post and commented, "Wishing you eight babies." Then I packed my things and moved out.

　　William called me late at night. At that moment, I was debating whether to take our travel photos with me. As soon as I picked up, he questioned me in an annoying tone, "Anya, what's with your twisted thinking? What's this about 'eight babies'? Have you been reading too many trashy novels? You know she's just been through a divorce. Why provoke her? I've told you so many times that she's our landlady and not in good health. Don't upset her."

　　I pulled the photo off the wall and stuffed it into my suitcase. Walking to the window, I lit a cigarette. "Why did you leave me outside the courthouse? Do you think Michelle is more important than me?"

　　William was momentarily silent, clearly not expecting my bluntness. Then he spoke with palpable anger, "Are you accusing me of cheating? Anya, if I didn't love you, would I have gone to the courthouse with you? Michelle and I are just landlady and tenant. If the landlady faints in front of you, wouldn't you be concerned? Do you really have to be so paranoid all the time?"

　　Just landlady and tenant... don't be paranoid... I've heard these explanations countless times over the past eight years, to the point where they no longer stir any emotion in me.

　　Couldn't she have called an ambulance? Couldn't her ex-husband have taken her to the hospital? Couldn't someone else at the scene have helped?

　　I suppressed these thoughts and flicked the ash from my cigarette. "You're right."

　　William knew me well. Since I didn't lash out and drown him with questions, he softened his tone, believing the matter to be resolved. He said, "Be a good girl and apologize to Michelle," then hung up.

　　But this time, he was wrong. I deleted both of them from my contacts.

　　William and I grew up together. We met at five, started dating right after high school, and have been together for seven years.

　　To be honest, it hadn't been a happy seven years.

　　Our arguments always revolved around Michelle, the landlady.

　　William was two years older than me and had lived in this apartment since he started working. When I moved in, he told me that Michelle was very kind. She took him in during his toughest times, supporting him when he was on the brink of homelessness or giving up on his dreams. He said he wouldn't have his current financial freedom without her.

　　Hearing that made me uncomfortable, but I loved William. So, I tolerated Michelle summoning William away with just a phone call and their strange relationship beyond that of a typical landlady and tenant. I never imagined that, in the end, William would leave me at the courthouse for her.

　　I've endured this sour situation for eight years, but now I can't stomach it anymore.

　　I finished packing late into the night and was too tired to move, so I slept there. Early the next morning, William's parents arrived. As soon as they walked in, they asked, "Did William go to the office this early?"

　　I poured coffee for them, smiling slightly. "He didn't come home last night."

　　Their expressions darkened. William's mother took my hand, comforting me gently. "He probably worked late and didn't want to disturb you. I'll call him right now."

　　I didn't care why William didn't come home, and I didn't need to guess where he was. I wanted to tell them not to call, but his mother was already dialing.

　　When the call went through, William's father grabbed the phone and angrily demanded, "Where are you? Why did you leave Anya behind yesterday? Why didn't you come home? Are you trying to upset us?"

　　On the other end, a delicate voice rang out. "William, who's that? Is Anya nagging you to go back?"

　　An awkward silence filled the room. William's parents looked at me uneasily while I calmly made myself a cup of coffee.

　　"William! Do you want to give your mother and me a heart attack? Get back here and apologize to Anya immediately!"

　　William must have moved to a quieter spot to take the call, sounding exhausted. "What has Anya complained about now? Whatever, tell her that Michelle and I are just friends. She fainted, and I was helping her, that's all."

　　Then he hung up.

　　Complaining?

　　I hadn't expected that telling his parents where he was would be considered complaining. I laughed bitterly, grabbed my bag, and told his parents, "Mr. and Mrs. Cain, I'm almost late for work. You can wait here for him."

　　They tried to speak, but I turned away and left.

　　A month ago, I had already started calling them Mom and Dad. But now, everything has returned to square one.

　　I didn't care what happened at home, whether William returned or when he did. I immersed myself in work all day, not even glancing at the surveillance app on my phone.

　　The old me would have been anxious, wanting to take time off to see William. But now, I felt a sense of unprecedented relief, and my work efficiency soared.

　　During lunch, I received a message from William's parents, telling me not to be angry and assuring me that I would be their only daughter-in-law. They said they would make William apologize. I sent back a smiling emoji and didn't reply further.

　　I handed my proposal to my manager, Tina. She held it without looking and instead asked me to sit down.

　　"Anya, are you really willing to be transferred to a clerical position? I appreciate your abilities and don't want you to waste your potential."

　　Because I was getting married, I had requested the transfer so that I could spend more time at home preparing meals for William after work. Tina, who had mentored me, admired my capabilities and had been holding off on approving my request. Before today, I had even considered resigning. But now, I shook my head. "No, I won't be transferring. I want to apply for a different project..."

　　"A different project? Anya, are you crazy? The current project is the most profitable in the company. Don't let a man make you lose sight of your career."

　　Tina was a bit angry, recalling how I had switched to a less demanding project for William before. I smiled, took her hand, and playfully said, "Tina, it's not what you think. I meant the company's new overseas project."

　　Tina paused, not quite understanding what I meant. Then she flicked my forehead lightly. "Finally, you're thinking straight! I was worried you might be messing with me when you asked for the transfer, given your track record."

　　Because of my past, Tina was understandably cautious. She immediately printed out the paperwork and had me sign it. Out of habit, I almost reached for my phone to call William but quickly turned it off and signed the documents.

　　William and I were over.

　　I didn't need to inform him of my decisions or seek his approval.

　　As I was nearing the end of my workday, I received a call from William.

　　"Are you off work yet? Come over to the east side of town."

　　"No, I have a dentist appointment."

　　I'd been delaying the removal of my wisdom teeth because I didn't want my swollen face to affect my wedding photos, but that wasn't a concern anymore.

　　"Can't you reschedule the dentist? I've arranged a gathering, and you still owe Michelle an apology for last night."

　　I couldn't help but laugh.

　　I wasn't sure whether to first question why I needed to apologize or why I should go out to have dinner with a toothache.

　　"I'm going to the dentist."

　　I hung up, ignoring William's subsequent flurry of texts. After the dental procedure and some painkillers, I took a cab home, arriving past eleven.

　　The living room was empty.

　　I didn't call William to find out where he was. I washed up and planned to apply an ice pack before bed. Since I was leaving the country in a few days, I hadn't moved out yet. Our mismatched work schedules meant we rarely crossed paths, so I didn't worry about running into him.

　　William came back with Michelle by his side. Her hand was on his shoulder, and William's cheeks were flushed, clearly from drinking. Michelle flashed me a bright smile, her eyes gleaming with provocation.

　　"William's not feeling well and drank a bit too much."

　　I didn't respond, nor did I offer to take care of William. Instead, I let go of the doorknob and returned to my room to apply the ice pack.

　　"Stop right there, Anya," William called out drunkenly behind me.

　　Ignoring him, I headed to the bedroom.

　　William abruptly got up and blocked my way.

　　"Anya, what's your problem? Didn't you hear me talking to you?"

　　I looked up at William. His features, once so beloved seven years ago, now seemed unremarkable.

　　My heart was utterly calm.

　　"I have no problem. What do you want to say?"

　　I averted my eyes, my tone indifferent.

　　His face twisted in displeasure.

　　"Why didn't you come to dinner? Are you still upset? You were the one who made that crude comment that upset Michelle. I went through all this trouble to arrange this gathering for you, and you didn't even show up. Since when did you become so petty?"

　　I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

　　"William, have you ever seen Michelle's posts on social media?"

　　William's face brightened with excitement.

　　"Of course, I have. What she wrote wasn't wrong. Michelle said she wanted to avoid any misunderstandings about our relationship, but you still think something's going on between us."

　　I looked at William in disbelief.

　　I wanted to scream at him, to dissect the implications of Michelle's posts for him. But the words got stuck, like a dud firecracker.

　　Forget it. I've explained things to him enough. Has he ever listened?

　　I laughed at myself.

　　"Yes, you're right."

　　But William didn't seem pleased. He frowned deeply.

　　"Anya, do you still not get that there's nothing going on between me and Michelle? There's nothing…"

　　"Whatever's between you two is your business. I don't care."

　　I interrupted him and then turned to Michelle.

　　"I assume my comment made you happy. Don't pretend to be innocent; it's disgusting."

　　Without waiting for a response, I headed to the bedroom.

　　Behind me, Michelle began to cry softly, as if deeply wronged.

　　"You accused me of being a homewrecker, and I was dragged down by rumors to the point of divorce. Now, you misunderstand me again. I'm the landlady and get along well with all my tenants. Is that a crime?"

　　She looked at William.

　　"I'm sorry for causing trouble between you and Anya. You should move out to avoid further arguments."

　　William and I had fought numerous times over this. If he was going to move out, he would have done so long ago.

　　As expected, William said, "Michelle, don't overthink it. It's too late. I'll walk you home."

　　She had walked him home, and he was going to walk her back home now, never mind that Michelle's place was just on the first floor, and William was drunk.

　　He was drunk and alone with a woman. What could possibly happen?

　　It wasn't that I have dirty ideas, but William never adhered to the basic social distance expected of adults.

　　Did he not realize that?

　　No. With his good looks and ambition, William had plenty of women interested in him over the past seven years, some even trying to climb the social ladder through him.

　　But William always handled things well, never getting drunk when he ate out, and if he did, he would call me first. He never went out alone with other women, and even when I occasionally checked his phone, I found nothing but business messages. He remained indifferent to any female colleagues trying to flirt.

　　Because of this, I once wondered if I was overreacting to his relationship with Michelle.

　　However, whether love existed or not, only the person involved truly knew, like a fish knew the temperature of the water it swam in.

　　I was exhausted.

　　Clearing my mind, I turned off the lights and went to sleep.

　　William spoke at my door, saying he'd be back soon after taking Michelle home, but I didn't respond.

　　The next morning, the guest room and the sofa were empty, and there was no sign of William returning on the security footage.

　　My heart sank a little.

　　After getting ready for the day, William came back carrying my favorite waffles.

　　He set the table and gestured for me to sit.

　　I sat at the table, eating the cereal I had made myself.

　　William looked a bit distressed but not angry. He cautiously explained.

　　"Last night, Michelle's place had a power outage. Her ex-husband was upset about the property settlement and was making trouble, so I slept on the sofa while she stayed in the bedroom."

　　William's eyes were dark with circles, and his voice hoarse, clearly from a sleepless night.

　　But that no longer mattered to me.

　　Seeing that I remained silent, William stared at me intently, making me uncomfortable. I nodded slightly in acknowledgment.

　　William immediately smiled, thinking I had forgiven him, and said happily, "You've always said I'm too busy to take you to Hawaii. I've taken a half-month off; you can ask your boss for leave today, and we'll go tomorrow."

　　I declined, "I can't. Too much work. I don't have time."

　　William immediately put down his fork.

　　"Didn't you just transfer positions? How can you still be busy? You're still mad at me, aren't you? Anya, I was planning to take you to get our marriage certificate today. It's just an extra day. Can't you stop being so stubborn?"

　　Our love story began with him courting me.

　　After we got together, he pampered me, even holding me close at night, recounting the hardships of his secret crush.

　　In school, when I fell during a run, and a girl helped me to the infirmary, he pretended to be injured too, just to check on me and bring me food.

　　He would distract the teacher with questions he already knew just to buy time for my deskmate to pass me answers when I was asked to solve a problem in class.

　　These acts of covert affection made me believe William truly loved me, compelling me to love him even more.

　　So, I gradually became obsessive and insecure about him, but in the end, everything I did was dismissed by him as mere capriciousness.

　　I had nothing more to say.

　　I had once seen the love in his eyes for me, but now, it seemed to have faded long ago.

I looked at him calmly, and he seemed to avoid my gaze, clearly uneasy.

　　"Alright, I admit what I did was wrong," William said.

　　I shook my head and replied coolly, "It's not about being wrong; it's just that you don't love me anymore."

　　Was it wrong to stop loving someone? Of course not. There was no rule that said a person had to keep loving another forever.

　　William's face seemed to crack. He stood up and grabbed my shoulders. "Anya, what do you mean?"

　　His hands were trembling. He was scared.