On my tenth wedding anniversary, my husband gave me a bespoke dress.

Lying in the hospital bed, I calmly sent him a voice message, suggesting divorce.

Shortly after, a call came through, a girl sobbing and complaining.

"Mrs. Harrison, I chose the gift, please don't be mad at me."

Travis Harrison softly coaxed her for a long time, but angrily said to me, "I'll wait for you at the city hall in the afternoon."

I waited for him for a long time, but our next meeting was two months later.

...

It was past midnight on my phone when Travis finally drove home.

He pushed open the door, "Dear, look what I have prepared for you?"

The man hugged me from behind while I was throwing away the cake, his warm breath spraying on my neck.

My body was tense, and I loosened my grip on the cake and threw it into the trash.

In the empty living room, the sound was particularly noticeable.

After dealing with the cake, I forcefully pushed Travis away.

"Clear your schedule tomorrow, we're getting a divorce."

Travis chuckled lightly, not taking it seriously, he continued to approach me, whispering.

"Honey, I'm hungry, can you cook me some noodles?"

In the past, he frequently had to travel for business and would come home very late.

I worried about his stomach discomfort, so I would wait for him every day and personally cook him spaghetti.

But today, I was tired and didn't want to go to the kitchen for him.

Travis waited for a long time, he turned on the living room light and stared at me blankly.

Then he suddenly chuckled, and pulled out a brand new set of keys.

He held the keys as if teasing a cat with a stick, tempting me,

"Look what this is?"

I moved my eyes away in disgust, it was a Porsche car key.

"I forgot to tell Kit, you have a scar on your leg, so you can't wear skirts. Is it my fault?"

Travis tried to coax me, but he was making excuses for another woman.

That woman was his high school dream girl, Kit Jenkins.

Kit went abroad for college, came back with a golden degree, and met Travis. Travis cordially invited her, so she brought her high education into Travis's company, vowing to fight alongside him.

After that, they stuck together on business trips, even when I called Travis, the person who answered was always Kit.

Travis's heart was gradually leaning towards her, I understood, I shouldn't have any more expectations for such a man.

"Alright, don't be angry, it's just a birthday, didn't I make up for the gift?"

He opened my palm and forcefully stuffed the car key into my hand.

He opened his arms to hug me, whispering in my ear,

"I've been on a business trip for half a month, you didn't even let our son video call me, shall we go see our son?"

I remained silent, he wrapped his arm around my waist and led me to our son's room.

Then he gently opened the door, "Little ingrate, just like you, doesn't miss me after such a long time?"

I listened to his affectionate words, but caught a glimpse of the unmistakable red stain on the corner of his shirt.

My eyes unconsciously reddened, I closed the door to the children's room, and dragged Travis upstairs.

"Travis, I can't get pregnant again."

Two months ago, a torrential rain poured in the middle of the night.

Our son is autistic, I was by his side, softly coaxing him to sleep.

I had unbearable abdominal pain in the middle of the night, I called Travis more than a dozen times, and the one who picked up was Kit.

Kit informed me that Travis was in the shower and that I could contact him after dawn if it was important.

After that, when I called again, all I heard was the sound of the phone being turned off.

I was taken to the hospital, and after the miscarriage and curettage, the doctor told me that my constitution was weak, and after losing this child, I would never be able to get pregnant again.

But on Kit's social account updates, I saw pictures of them holding hands by the sea.

Looking at their cuddling figures, I knew in my heart that this marriage in name only should end.

Travis suddenly sank into the leather sofa in the living room, his face full of fatigue.

"Jasmine, there's no need. I just didn't make it back for your birthday, and you're using such a poor excuse to trick me."

He reached out for a lighter and lit a cigarette.

He still thought I was lying to him.

"This is the medical report, you can see for yourself."

I put the medical report and medical records from the hospital in front of him, and he looked at me with a sneer,

"Are you putting on such a full act just to compete with Kit?"

I looked at the man I'd shared a bed with for ten years, and all I saw in his eyes was mockery towards me.

"Think what you want, I just want to get divorced as soon as possible."

Travis flicked through the medical report on the table, and in annoyance, threw it on the floor.

"Kit has been with me for so long, she only made one mistake, do you have to take it so seriously?"

I looked at the scattered medical reports on the floor, Travis thought all of these were fake.

I calmly looked at him, then towards our son's room,

"Shh, keep it down, you'll wake the kid."

Travis glared at me, stubbed out his cigarette forcefully in the ashtray, grabbed his coat and left.

I watched his retreating figure, but found that everything in front of me was gradually blurring.

Was Travis still the same person he used to be?

Travis and I met in college, he was not a good student then.

His father had passed away, and his mother raised him alone.

I ran into Travis being extorted by thugs during a friend's birthday.

I called the police, but by the time they arrived, he was already bruised from the beating.

I took him to the hospital, paid for his medical expenses, and even helped him ask for leave from school.

Afterwards, he said he wanted to repay me, and added my contact information.

After I helped him that time, he sought me out on several occasions.

Even the money he owed me was paid back in many installments.

He knew my favorite singer, and would save a month's wages from his part-time job to buy me a concert ticket.

And after my roommate took me to see a doctor, he would make time to treat them to a meal.

At that time, everyone around me thought we were a perfect match.

Travis was excellent, he was gentle and favored by his tutors, and I was the belle of the German department.

In order to confess to me, he sang my favorite love song in front of all our classmates on the school playground.

He held a ring and knelt on one knee in front of me,

"Jasmine, will you be with me?"

...

"Mom, where are you?"

In the dark children's room, my son was crying softly, calling out for me in a hoarse voice.

I snapped back to reality, gently picked up my restless son from his small bed, and turned on the light in the children's room.

My son reached out and touched my cheek, and said timidly,

"Mom, why are you crying?"

Yes, why was I crying? It turned out that Travis and I were once happy.

"I'm fine, just missing your grandma a bit."

I gently soothed my son, but it felt like a wound had been torn open in my heart.

The happier we used to be, the more miserable we are now. I was also raised by a single mother.

My mother hoped I would find a happy and contented marriage partner, so she didn't agree with me marrying Travis.

It took Travis a full half year to express his sincerity.

Even after graduating from university, the first money he earned, he used to buy a two-story villa and put it in my name.

I wiped the tears from my face and left with my child.

Three days later, Travis had called more than a dozen times.

He even called my mother. When I called him back, I heard him roar in rage.

"Jasmine, have you had enough? If you're done, then hurry back!"