Seven years after registering our marriage, my husband Gaius and I finally decided to hold the romantic wedding ceremony we had missed back then.

That day, I wore the wedding gown I had designed myself and walked toward him with hopeful eyes.

Before I could deliver my carefully prepared vows, an incident interrupted the moment.

Amid the stunned murmurs of the guests, Gaius dashed toward the woman who had fainted—again—at my wedding.

His voice trembled with urgency, eyes burning red. "Call an ambulance! Now!"

He didn't even look back as he left the wedding hall.

When the wedding bell rang seven times, I calmly pulled off my veil.

Facing the guests who had yet to disperse, I smiled and said, "As you can see, today marks the divorce ceremony between Gaius and me. Please, eat and drink to your heart's content. Don't let the trip go to waste!"

Gaius didn't even bother to call and explain.

The next day, I saw his update on social media.

The time stamp read 3 a.m. The photo was of two hands clasped together. The caption read, "All my life, I've wandered endlessly, never stopping. Yet twice, I've paused for you."

Without a moment's hesitation, I liked the post and left a comment: "Best wishes!"

Just as I set my phone down, it rang. The screen displayed: Husband.

I thought he had seen my comment and was calling to explain.

But the moment I answered, a delicate, breathy voice came through, followed by a faint cough:

"Donna, cough... cough... it's me, Michelle."

Whatever hope I had left shattered in an instant.

Swallowing my disgust, I said coldly, "What do you want?"

Maybe my uncharacteristic calm caught her off guard, as she paused for a few seconds before replying, "Gaius went to heat some water to wipe me down. He even left his phone behind—he's so careless!

"Donna, about yesterday... I didn't expect to get sick and ruin your wedding. Please don't blame him, okay?"

After a breathless string of apologies, I heard Gaius's gentle voice in the background. "Michelle, why are you up? Go lie down. I'll explain everything to her."

"Cough, cough... you're always like this. I just have a little illness, but you panic like it's the end of the world. It's really not that serious."

I'd long grown used to Michelle's fragile act, so I wasn't curious about how this scene would unfold.

But the two of them seemed determined to drag me into their performance, using me as a prop to complete their tragic romance.

The disgusting lines kept coming.

"I'll never let anything happen to you," Gaius said, his voice thick with affection—the same affection he once reserved for me.

"I know, you're the best to me. Now, you should go back and finish the wedding. Donna's been waiting seven years for this. I promise, this time I'll control myself and stay away, okay?"

Her voice cracked at the end.

Gaius's tone softened further. "Don't worry. The wedding's canceled. We've been married for years already. We don't need something so superficial."

My hand trembled, and the phone nearly slipped from my grip.

I couldn't believe it—his voice, so tender, carried knives aimed straight at my heart.

A wave of nausea rolled through me, but I swallowed it down and forced a laugh.

"Well, since you two clearly have so much to say, I'll leave you to it. Gaius, I have no idea where you spend your time when you're not home, but I've sent the divorce papers to Michelle's place. Don't forget to sign them."

Before I could hang up, his angry voice exploded through the speaker. "Donna! Do you have to bring up divorce every damn time like some bitter, resentful wife? Is this fun for you? Yesterday was an emergency—what was I supposed to do? Watch Michelle die?"

I curled my lips into a faint smile and said nothing.

In the past, he always responded to conflicts between the three of us with cold indifference.

I would cry and scream, and he would quietly smoke one cigarette after another.

But today, he shouted, like he'd been holding it in for far too long.

I was the one who'd been abandoned, so why was he the one throwing a tantrum?

And now, he'd even labeled me with a term I'd never heard from him before—a resentful wife.

He didn't understand. Only an unhappy marriage could turn a woman into a "resentful wife."

I'd known him for ten years, been married to him for seven.

I stood by him when he had nothing and watched him build his company from the ground up.

But after all the storms we weathered, I was no longer the young, fresh and dainty little woman he once knew.

Everything we shared, every memory, meant nothing in the face of those two words.

"Gaius, if you don't sign the papers, we'll settle this in court."

I was tired.

No matter how unwilling I was to let go, this time, I was done cutting my losses.

Gaius could hear the exhaustion in my voice.

After a brief silence, his tone softened slightly. "You're just upset about the wedding ceremony, aren't you? There's plenty of time for that. Michelle had a heart attack yesterday. If I hadn't rushed her to the hospital, who knows what might have happened?"

"And what about your social media post? Who was that meant for?" I couldn't help but laugh.

"That... that was just an emotional outburst. Do you have to make such a big deal out of it?" he retorted.

How had this turned into me making a big deal? Over the years, hadn't there been enough of these cryptic messages from him? Most of the time, I could pretend not to notice, giving him credit for maintaining the boundaries of a married man—polite and restrained. But that didn't mean I'd let him humiliate me the same way twice, especially not on my wedding day.

Michelle had been Gaius's junior back in school. At our small but warm wedding seven years ago, she had caused a similar scene. Just as the officiant was about to prompt the groom to say "I do," she burst into tears in the audience, creating chaos before collapsing on the spot.

Gaius had no choice but to rush her to the hospital. He stayed by her side for a full 48 hours. The wedding ended without resolution.

That day, his social media update read, "Safe and sound," followed by, "Tying the knot."

Too bad I hadn't grasped the implications back then. Not wanting to inconvenience our relatives again, we abandoned plans for a second ceremony.

When he saw how disappointed I was, he tried to comfort me. "Donna, don't be sad. When we're rich, we'll have one every year."

I had laughed happily then.

Seven years later, I was approaching thirty and wanted to make up for that regret. After all, youth only lasted so long. Yet once again, he had paused for her.

Michelle's tearful voice came through the phone. "Donna, I've always had poor health. I didn't mean to faint at your wedding. Cough... cough..."

Suddenly, someone snatched the phone away. Gaius's voice was sharp with anger. "Enough, Donna! You're already my wife. What more do you want? Michelle is in enough pain as it is. Why are you harassing a sick person?"

A bitter smile curled my lips. "Harassing? Don't you know? Michelle's suffering is because you've strung her along while being my husband. You made her a mistress."

Gaius fell silent.

They didn't realize that once I no longer felt the need to act nice, everything could be laid bare. The proud Michelle didn't want to be the other woman, yet here she was.

Sure enough, muffled sobs came from the other end. Gaius quickly switched to a softer tone. "Michelle, don't get upset. I'll make her apologize to you."

Then he turned his attention back to me, his voice cold and commanding. "Donna, Michelle's emotions are unstable. I want you to go to her immediately—within half an hour. If not, I'll sign the divorce papers as soon as I receive them. Don't think your childish reverse psychology will work on me..."

Before he could finish, I hung up. Knowing there was no way to turn this around didn't stop my heart from aching at his blatant favoritism. Ten years wasted, seven years of disillusionment—I hadn't escaped any of it.

Gaius and I met at a college social event. He was tall, cheerful, and exactly my type.

From then on, I couldn't stop myself. To chase him, I even gave up an exchange program and stayed in the country. I visited his college whenever I had free time, staging "coincidences" until, on the ninth try, he finally agreed—reluctantly—to give us a shot.

Later, it was me who suggested we register our marriage. I never thought that because I pursued him first, our love was cheapened.

He had been a decent boyfriend and, for a time, a good husband. It was only that faintly drifting heart I thought I could hold onto.

After marriage, we struggled and eventually built a successful business. As more accomplished women surrounded him, I didn't let it bother me.

Even when he went out for social engagements, facing temptation, I didn't feel threatened—until Michelle returned.

That was when my confidence began to waver. I went from tantrums to silent observation, constantly convincing myself that as long as he didn't cross the line, it was all in my head.

But my boundaries were repeatedly broken, and his world grew smaller until it could only fit Michelle.

When Michelle was upset, he canceled international conferences to comfort her. When she moved, he personally helped with the heavy lifting. When she fell ill, he stayed by her side day and night.

If I protested, I was being unreasonable and petty.

He forgot that I was the one he vowed to protect. He forgot that we struggled to have children and needed his support to build our family. During those difficult times, I clung to our vows, enduring endless injections and treatments alone.

Now fate was playing the cruelest joke. I was finally pregnant, but I couldn't keep the baby.

After packing my luggage, I booked a flight abroad for the same day.

Ten years ago, my parents and brother had already settled overseas for business. I was supposed to join them as an exchange student. But because of Gaius, I refused to go, leading to a terrible fallout with my family. They didn't even bother attending my wedding.

Seven years ago, the only one who showed up was my grandmother, who had remained in our hometown. Now, seven years later, she had passed away.

At least she was spared the embarrassment of witnessing the groom walk out for another woman.

Gaius never understood how hard it was to build something from nothing.

He didn't know the money my grandmother handed me back then was actually a luxury apartment downtown, worth millions, gifted by my mother.

I foolishly believed that if he knew I had fought with my wealthy family over him, he would be overcome with guilt. So I chose to play the role of the unwanted girl from the countryside.

Back then, without hesitation, I had secretly sold the downtown apartment. With the proceeds, I paid off the debts his father had left behind, giving him peace of mind to focus on his career. The rest of the money went toward covering his business losses and providing countless chances for trial and error. And finally, he made it.

I had stood by him through it all—from a rented apartment to a home of our own. I had given up my youth willingly.

But now I realize that self-delusion really is an illness.

If I didn't care about myself, who else would?

Numbly, I stood up and prepared to leave for the airport. But as I opened the bedroom door, I saw Gaius sprawled on the sofa, his face worn out with exhaustion. Noticing my suitcase, he pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation.

"What's this? Another one of your running-away-from-home stunts? Why didn't you answer my calls?"

I glanced at my watch and replied calmly, "What do you need?"

He froze, unprepared for my sudden formality.

"Donna, what exactly do you want? Can you just say it outright? I left the wedding for an emergency yesterday, and you went around telling people it was a divorce ceremony? You're suffocating me with this nonsense!

"How many times do I have to explain? Michelle and I are just friends. Back when I was struggling to start the company, she supported and encouraged me. Now that I've succeeded, is it such a crime to look after her a little?

"You're the one tormenting yourself. What do you want me to do about it?"

So, he credited only comfort and encouragement to his success?

It turned out my money was spent for nothing.

I listened quietly, then nodded. "I see."

"You see? Then why did you have to provoke Michelle? She's been depressed and crying ever since. You need to apologize to her at the hospital immediately, or this isn't over!"

His tone was commanding. Clearly, he had grown used to throwing his weight around with me.

My eyes burned, but I stood frozen. Only when he rose and stood before me did I finally look up. Tall and imposing, he no longer shielded me from life's storms.

"Go to the hospital now. Michelle's resting time is in an hour. I'll take a quick shower and stay with her tonight. And bring her a matcha mousse from the dessert shop across the street. It'll cheer her up, and she won't hold this against you."

I lowered my head and murmured, "Okay."

I wanted to say something sharp, but the sadness weighing down my chest silenced me.

After all these years together, he could remember someone else's favorite dessert, but when it came to me, he was clueless.

He had no memory of the cheesecake I often ate. He didn't recall the floral dress I wore countless times—the very first gift he gave me. He barely glanced at the wedding dress I designed, dismissing it with a casual remark that I should learn more from others.

When I loved him, I gave myself endless excuses.

I told myself he was just too busy, too preoccupied with bigger matters.

But now, I couldn't lie to myself anymore.

It wasn't that he couldn't spare the effort—he simply didn't think I was worth it.

Gaius always believed his relationship with Michelle was innocent. He never once tried to appease me. Yet, sensing my uncharacteristic calm, his tone softened.

"It was wrong of me to leave suddenly yesterday. I'll explain everything to our relatives and friends. Since you're so set on having a proper wedding, I won't refuse."

'You won't refuse?

'You think you're doing me a favor by having our wedding?'

In the past, I might have argued with him—might have said, "You owe me this," or "You promised me a grand wedding."

But now, I couldn't be bothered.

I brushed past him and headed for the door.

"Donna, you're just a housewife with too much free time. You're always creating problems for yourself. I'm warning you—get your act together. Don't stir up more trouble!"

When I didn't respond, Gaius dropped his facade and hurled empty threats at my retreating figure.

But I felt nothing. Not anger. Not sadness.

I just wanted to get this final task done and leave it all behind.