In truth, I had not been angry that Lauren forgot my birthday.

I had stopped loving her long ago, and I no longer expected anything from her.

I was only angry at that foolish version of myself who had given seven years of my life away.

Endless housework, a chaotic workspace, cups and plates left behind by worthless friends, a wife who abandoned her bike and slept soundly through it all…

I endured it.

Being summoned and scolded on a whim, a lonely and monotonous life…

I endured that too.

Because of love, I had become the very kind of person I never wanted to be before marriage.

Everyone praised me for being good.

I truly had been too good and far too foolish.

Under my care, Lauren had grown into a confident adult-sized infant.

Did she really believe that all the glory she took pride in had been earned by herself alone?

Without me by her side, handling every race and every commercial engagement, how could she have advanced without distraction as she had?

I grieved for those seven years I had thrown away.

Lauren tried to placate me. I pushed her hand aside and handed her a folder.

“What is this?” She opened it, and her face changed instantly.

“You want to divorce me?”

She let the divorce agreement fall to the floor.

Perhaps my silence in the past had been cowardice, but today, my calm was clarity.

“We’ve been married for seven years. Life keeps getting better, and yet you want a divorce?”

She pointed at me, just as she had done countless times over the years.

“Are our lives better?” I asked calmly.

“You’re the one going anywhere. I’ve been your obedient lapdog for seven years straight.”

I questioned her evenly, as if she had just made the greatest joke.

“You don’t have to work. You don’t have to fight your way through the workplace. You just do housework. And what do you mean by “lapdog”?”

A smug look spread openly across her face.

“I’ve already defended my championship title. Do you know how high my commercial value is?

“If you divorce me now, you won’t get anything.”

I looked into her eyes and could no longer find the girl I once cherished.

“Lauren, I didn’t care about money when I married you, and I don’t care now.”

“Lauren! Come have something to eat,” Sean’s voice called from outside the door, and both of us fell silent.

Not putting our mess on display for outsiders was the last unspoken understanding we shared.

“Don’t act on impulse, Owen. Let’s talk properly tonight,” Lauren said, as if she had recovered a measure of reason, her tone softening.

“I’m going to eat. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow for your birthday.”

With that, she left.

When the door opened, I saw her tilt her head and smile up at Sean, two small dimples appearing on her cheeks.

My phone chimed with a new message.

I tapped on an avatar made up of a simple symbol.

Beneath the birthday wishes and cake photo I had sent the night before, there was now a reply.

[Thank you. Wishing you happiness too.]

I smiled, did not respond, and instead opened my social feed, replaying a video of a doctoral graduation ceremony again and again.

By the time I left the study, everyone had already left.

Sean, however, was still sitting in the living room.

“Owen,” Sean said.

He had never addressed me the way the others did.

So casual. So careless.

“The dorm has a curfew. Could you let me stay the night?”

I glanced at Lauren, who looked lifeless on the couch.

She waved her hand dismissively.

“Why even ask? If you don’t sleep here, where would you go?”

Sean immediately stood up and twisted open the door to the guest bedroom.

After opening it, he exclaimed, “Is all this prepared just for me? Aww, Lauren, you’re so good to me!”

Lauren froze for a moment, then turned to me and said awkwardly, “That’s where Owen sleeps.”

“Bro what?” Sean shouted exaggeratedly. “You and Owen don’t sleep together?”

He seemed completely unaware that this was deeply private.

A flicker of discomfort crossed Lauren’s face.

I walked over and smiled as I explained.

“She cycles from five in the morning until ten at night every day. I can’t handle that schedule.”

That was only one reason.

Using exhaustion from training as an excuse, Lauren had avoided intimacy with me for two years.

At first, I had argued.

Later, I went numb.

“Sorry, there aren’t any spare rooms left. You should stay at a hotel,” I said, closing the guest bedroom door casually and denying him any glimpse of my room.

Lauren hurriedly added, “It’s fine. It’s dangerous for him to stay alone in a hotel. Let him sleep in my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

I lowered my gaze and said nothing.

On the nights she competed out of town, I had handled her logistics and booked separate rooms myself so she could rest well.

She had never once worried about me.

Seeing my expression change, Sean quickly jumped in.

“I’m kidding. I’ll sleep on the couch. It’s just one night.”

It was clear Lauren felt sorry for him, but she didn’t dare go too far.

That night, I went to bed first.

Lauren and Sean were laughing about something in the living room.

She seemed to have already forgotten about the divorce.

I wasn’t in a hurry.

I opened a secondhand marketplace app and browsed.

The road bike Lauren had bought me had already sold for six thousand dollars.

I immediately searched for another user’s ID and placed an order on her page for a secondhand bag.

Exactly six thousand dollars.

“Owen? Are you awake?”

My phone showed 1 a.m., and Lauren was quietly calling me from outside the door.

I didn’t respond.

Assuming I was asleep, she turned toward the sofa.

I pulled out my phone and checked the surveillance app.

In the living room, Sean had wrapped his arms around Lauren.

She bent down to kiss him, and they collapsed onto the sofa.

They were like two wild dogs.

Absolutely disgusting.

After my cat, Nugget, had a bout of indigestion six months ago, I installed a hidden camera in the living room to keep an eye on him.

Lauren never liked hearing about trivial things, so I hadn’t told her.

Two months ago, I had casually reviewed the footage and discovered her kissing Sean in our home, on the very rug I had personally chosen.

I hadn’t slept a wink that night.

I traced the timeline of their relationship.

Three months.

They had been doing all this behind my back while I went out for groceries, cooked, or delivered their bikes for cleaning.

I felt no sadness, no anger. Only one thing: Dirty.

So dirty.

Watching them become more intimate, I floated silently out of bed and flung open the bedroom door.

I do not exaggerate. Sean practically sprang off the sofa.

“Bro! Why are you up?”

He looked flustered as he tugged at the front of his pajama pants.

Lauren was a little worse for wear.

Her clothes were stripped, and now she was wrapped in a blanket.

Her eyes were pink at the corners.

I walked silently toward the study, and Lauren panicked.

“Listen, I drank too much. I thought you were sleeping…”

I ignored her and tossed the folder from the desk back in front of her.

“Don’t make me sick. Sign it.”

Seeing she couldn’t talk her way out, Lauren’s expression changed.

“It was only one time! You’re discarding all these years of our relationship?”

I sneered.

“Seven years for one moment? Do you think I was born yesterday?”

Lauren tried to deny it, but I cut her off.

.

“How many times has it been? You know. Not even the rest of your life could repay it.”

She had no defense.

I still held in my hands many files related to her career, so she dared not contradict me.

Glancing at the agreement, Lauren finally shouted, “Why should the house be yours? My name’s on it too! I demand half!”

Sean, originally seated on the sofa, perked up.

Hearing talk of splitting assets, he no longer pretended innocence and leaned forward.

“Owen, you two are just living together now. Since your relationship is broken, split it fifty-fifty.”

He no longer called me ‘bro’.

Ambition flickered openly in his eyes.

Hightide City’s real estate was very expensive.

If the house sales were divided, Lauren could pocket two and a half million!

A tempting figure, but I wouldn’t let her have it cheaply.

“This house is mine. You didn’t contribute a single penny.”

I smiled, watching a flash of panic cross her pretty face.

When we married, Lauren had nothing.

Her monthly salary was eight hundred dollars.

I hadn’t held a wedding, and I even added her name to the house I owned.

To this day, she boasted about this past, painting it as our “fairy-tale love.”

Now we had gone from nothing to a clean break.

Lauren’s expression twitched with anger, but she did not argue.

“It’s fine, Lauren. I’ll be here with you every step of the way.”

Sean whispered provocatively in her ear, scattering her already fragile heart.

“Tomorrow, we’ll file for divorce!”

Lauren signed and tossed the papers at me.

“Fine.”

I put the agreement away carefully.

“Three days. Move everything out of this apartment in three days.”

“Three days?” Lauren jumped.

“So much stuff—how can I possibly move it all?”

“Don’t you have plenty of cycling teammates?” I crossed my arms and turned back to my room.

“I’m just issuing the notice. Penalties for delay are on you.”