The fifth time Kason and I planned to remarry, he bought me a house and an expensive ring. He seemed genuinely committed, and I thought it might finally work out this time. But when we got to the city hall, he rushed off to see his ex after hearing she wasn't feeling well. When I called him, he snapped, "What's more important, a life or getting remarried?"

Five times we tried to remarry, and each time he ditched me at the mere mention of his ex. I finally decided not to marry him again and left the city to pursue my dreams. Kason searched the whole town trying to find me.

"What? Priscilla's got a fever?" Kason furrowed his brows, speaking into the phone. My heart sank, skipping a beat. Not this call again. Today’s trip to get our marriage license was about to be ruined once more. Sure enough, in the next moment, Kason said to me, "Makayla, Priscilla's really sick. Can we postpone the license again?" As he grabbed his car keys and headed for the door.

It was ridiculous. Since when is a fever a crisis? I grabbed his arm. "We're next in line." "Can't you get the license first and then go?" He shook me off with a note of irritation in his voice. "This isn't the time for tantrums. We can get the license anytime, but life doesn't wait!" With that, he left.

Someone nearby couldn't help but comment, "Is he really her husband?" "Running off on the day you're getting a license? I'd kick him to the curb." "Completely absurd!" Yes, it was absurd. Who would have thought this was my fifth visit to city hall with Kason? Even the staff recognized us. When it was our turn, one of the workers asked, "Did he leave again?"

"Yes," I replied bitterly. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience." Then, I turned to leave. As I stepped outside, heavy snow began to fall. The cold wind cut through my coat, but it was my heart that felt truly frozen.

Kason and I had been married for two years. We divorced amicably because he wanted to move to the south of France, while I wanted to stay in the north near my parents. Our paths were different. Later, I heard he got involved with a girl from the Riviera. She was gorgeous and, more importantly, shared his passion for medicine. They both became doctors, but their personalities clashed.

Kason came back to me. On a snowy day in Northfield, we went out for some hearty beef stew. It was our favorite spot during college. The stew was especially delicious that day, and the steam made his nose look a bit red from the cold. He said, "Makayla, let's get remarried." "I'll stay in Northfield for you." In that moment, my heart skipped a beat.

We were just about to get our marriage license.

But then Priscilla showed up in Paris, desperately trying to win Kason back. Each time, Kason made it clear he only had feelings for me. Yet when it came time to sign the papers, he abandoned me because of her.

This has happened four times already, and today is the fifth. Maybe he feels guilty, I guess. This time, he bought me a house and put it in my name. He even purchased a fancy pink diamond ring. If he didn’t love me, why would he do these things? Yet, if he loved me, how could he keep leaving me for an ex?

I tightened my coat around me and called Kason. The phone rang several times before it was picked up, but it wasn’t Kason on the line—it was Priscilla. Her voice had that typical Southern Belle softness.

“Makayla, Kason went to get me some soup. Is there something important? I can pass the message along.”

It was absurd. The way she spoke made it sound like she was Kason's girlfriend. But they broke up a long time ago. Kason is now my boyfriend—almost my husband.

Before I could respond, I heard Kason’s voice.

“Next time, don’t run out in the middle of winter to have fun. This is Paris, not your mild southern town. You’ll freeze to death in the snow!”

His tone was filled with warmth, something he had never used with me.

I remember the last time it snowed, and I wanted him to warm my hands. He said to me, “You’re not like Priscilla, who’s so delicate about the cold. Besides, we've been together long enough; stop with that nonsense, it's embarrassing.”

Growing up with him in Paris, I’d brushed off his words, my carefree nature unbothered. I truly thought he disliked such interactions. Now, I realize he doesn’t.

“Kason, I want to talk to you.”

I clenched my phone, struggling to keep my emotions under control.

“Hello, what’s up?” Kason's tone shifted to something more serious as he took over the call.

The hurt welled up in my eyes, tears barely held at bay. I wanted so badly to ask, do you even care about me? But saying that would make me seem needy to him.

After a moment of silence, I said, “Maybe we should call off the remarriage. It looks like you and Priscilla have unresolved issues.”

“Makayla!” he snapped, anger flaring.

“You're blowing up over today?” he retorted. “What’s more important, someone’s well-being or our remarriage? You’re thirty years old and still don’t get it?”

“Forget it. Talking to you is pointless. You always think about yourself!”

The phone disconnected with a sharp click.

I stood frozen as snowflakes landed on my face, feeling numb. He always thought I was too stubborn. But this was the fifth time, the fifth time! How could anyone endure this?

I wanted to call him again, to have a straightforward conversation. But this time, he didn't answer at all. He didn't respond to my WhatsApp messages either. I crouched down on the ground, tears stinging my eyes as they began to fall steadily. I remember when I wasn't like this. How did I become so fragile, so quick to cry?

I went to my friend Lia's house and poured out everything that had happened today, then had a few glasses of whiskey. We watched the heavy snow outside the window, and she just held me in silence. Then I started crying again, and she quickly wiped away my tears.

"Makayla, you weren't like this before," she said. "The Makayla I know handles things decisively and with a free spirit. If this relationship is truly making you unhappy, I hope you can be like you used to be and cut ties cleanly."

Lia's words left me speechless. The old me really did handle things without hesitation. Back when Kason wanted to move south, I wanted to stay in the north. Another woman might have followed him, but in my twenties, I was ambitious, believing that nothing should stand in the way of my life—especially not a man. So, I divorced him.

Now, why have I become like this? Is it just aging, longing for a place to belong?