During the World Cup finals, I brought soup to my husband at his office as he was working overtime.

When I arrived outside the screening room of his office, I heard his new assistant, Jodie Lenford, asking with a laugh, "Mr. Hayes, don't you always tell us that Mrs. Hayes watches every World Cup match with you? Why did you leave her alone at home tonight?"

My husband, Tristan, was silent for a while before replying, "Every time she watches the match with me, she'll just lecture me about drinking less and going to bed early. It takes the joy out of everything."

Jodie laughed again. "Let me accompany you tonight instead. I'll replace Mrs. Hayes for this duty."

"You're just like her back when she was young and fiery."

Tristan once told me that I would be the only one by his side during every finals match, but I watched as he gently placed the sports jersey I had carefully picked for him years ago over the shoulders of another woman.

Jodie asked, "Won't Mrs. Hayes be mad if she finds out about this?"

Tristan laughed. "She's learned her lesson. She won't make a huge fuss like she did before."

That was when loud cheering erupted from the screen.

I stood in the dark as I suddenly realized that some matches would end with me being benched before the starting whistle was even blown.

I heard another round of applause from the screening room as I placed the thermal bag next to my feet while slowly opening the door. Jodie Lenford's voice could be heard coming through the creak of the door. "Look at how detailed the sewing is on the ankle brace on your sleeve, Mr. Hayes. Your wife must love you a lot to still be keeping such an old item of yours."

Tristan gave a low laugh as his fingers brushed across the ankle brace. "She used to understand soccer and me, but not anymore. She doesn't even bother to watch any soccer game, even if there's an offside."

Someone started saying, "You need to thank Miss Lenford tonight for bringing you back to your youthful days, Mr. Hayes."

Jodie let out a soft cough. "Stop it. I just didn't want Mr. Hayes to feel lonely watching the game alone. It'd be better if Mrs. Hayes was here with you."

Tristan was silent for a second before replying nonchalantly, "She doesn't like staying up through the night. It's better for everyone if she stays home."

Better for everyone?

I stood outside the door with my head lowered, staring at the thermal bag containing the hot soup I had made for him.

Eight years ago, during the World Cup Finals, Tristan suffered from gastritis, but he insisted on accompanying me until 5 AM. I had removed the old ankle brace from my college team and sewn it to the sleeve of his jersey. I told him that someone would always be watching over him every time he stayed up late to watch the game.

The side of the ankle brace was frayed, and the colors did not match. Tristan teased me about being clumsy with my sewing, but he still wore the jersey to meet all of his friends. However, now, the ankle brace was pressed onto Jodie's shoulder.

Someone suddenly opened the door from inside, and Jodie bumped into me with half a bucket of popcorn in her hand. The smile on her face froze. "What are you doing here, Mrs. Hayes?"

The screening room turned silent. Tristan was seated in the middle, the remote in his hand, and his legs crossed. When his gaze fell onto the thermal bag by my feet, he frowned slightly. "What are you doing here so late at night?"

I bent over to pick up the bag. "The housekeeper told me you hadn't had dinner yet, so I decided to drop by and bring it to you."

Jodie quickly took the jersey off, clenching the corner of it. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Hayes. I had no idea the jersey was a gift from you. I sneezed because the air conditioning here was too cold, and Mr. Hayes was concerned for my well-being as his subordinate… I'll return it to you after washing it."

Tristan held her wrist down and said softly, "Put it back on. It's cold in here."

I froze in the middle of opening the thermal bag.

Tristan's colleagues exchanged glances, and one of them tried to smooth things over. "Mr. Hayes is lucky to have such a considerate wife."

All Tristan did was look at me as if he had not heard what his colleague said. "Leave the soup here. The driver is waiting downstairs to take you home."

I glanced at the jersey sleeve, where the ankle brace was pinned with Jodie's brooch through the old threads, leaving a small hole. I reached for the jersey. "I'll take this back to have it washed."

Jodie reacted by taking a step back, becoming teary-eyed. "Did I do something wrong again, Mrs. Hayes? All I did was glance at the jersey several times because I thought it was a meaningful piece of clothing."

Tristan stood up to shield her behind him. "It's just an old jersey, Dahlia. Don't make a scene at the office."

I looked up at him. "Just an old jersey?"

The look in his eyes darkened, but his tone remained composed. "Haven't you always hated it when someone kills the mood at an event? It's the finals tonight, and everyone is here."

Jodie spoke up in a small voice, "I should return the jersey to Mrs. Hayes. I know I'm not worthy of something as precious as this."

Tristan turned to look at her. "No one is saying you're not worthy."

That was when excited shouts came from the screening room as the players started appearing on the screen to start the match. I placed the soup on the table, and the glass bowl clinked softly against it. "Enjoy the game, everyone."

Tristan seemed taken aback. "Are you leaving just like that?"

I zipped my jacket up tightly without looking at him. "What else did you expect? Are you waiting for me to plan who gets benched?"

Jodie turned pale.

Tristan's fingers tapped on the remote, and his voice lowered slightly, "Don't make sarcastic remarks with soccer terms, Dahlia. Wait for me at home."

I nodded and turned to leave. I heard Jodie suddenly asking softly behind me, "Is Mrs. Hayes mad at me, Mr. Hayes?"

Tristan was silent for a few seconds before replying, "She'll be fine after a night."

Before the elevator doors closed in front of me, I saw Tristan return to his seat. The jersey was still hanging around Jodie's shoulders, and the ankle brace on the sleeve was still pinned with her brooch.

I was pouring the remaining soup down the sink when my phone rang at 3 AM. The call from Tristan rang only three times before I picked up. It was noisy on his end, and I could hear Jodie yelling, "Goal!" from his side.

Tristan tried to suppress a laugh as he asked me, "Were you asleep?"

I stared at the sink as the soup slowly flowed down. "Nope."

Tristan sounded happy with that answer. "Go to my study and look at the second drawer on the left. There's a blue scorebook in there. Get the driver to deliver it to my office tomorrow morning."

I clenched the phone hard. "What do you want to do with it?"

I started that scorebook eight years ago. It recorded the teams he supported for every World Cup, the amount of alcohol he consumed, and the time of the match when he held my hand. The last page even had the note he secretly passed to me after he was punished and forced to kneel on the ground. Tristan told me back then that the match's champion could change at any time, but the woman next to him would never change.

He said with indifference, "Jodie is meeting a client tomorrow who wants a World Cup theme for his project. She needs some references, and you don't need that scorebook now anyway."

Jodie could be heard speaking near him. "The match is about to start, Mr. Hayes. Hurry up! You shouldn't miss this."

Tristan gave her an affirmative reply before saying to me, "Take a picture for me when you find the scorebook. Make sure not to lose it."

He hung up after that.

I stood in the study for a long time before finally pulling the drawer open. The blue covers of the book had aged, and the corners were covered with cellophane tape that I had used to hold it together. When I flipped to the last page of the book, I found the note still there, but an unfamiliar silver brooch lay beside it. The brooch looked like the one Jodie had on her tonight.

As I stared at the brooch, I was suddenly reminded of how Tristan had come home very late last week. A small gift bag had fallen out of his suit pocket while he was taking a shower. When I questioned him about it, he took the bag from me and replied nonchalantly that it was a gift from a client. I guessed that 'client' was the one who pinned the brooch on my old scorebook.

Tristan returned the next morning when the driver stopped by to pick up the scorebook. He was still reeking of alcohol, but he did not look tired at all.

I passed the scorebook to him. "I took the note. Remember to return the scorebook once you're done with it."

Tristan's hands paused while flipping the pages. "It's just some old pieces of paper. Why do you care about it?"

I looked at him. "You wrote it for me."

Tristan closed the scorebook. "Souvenirs shouldn't be turned into shackles, Dahlia. Stop treating every single thing as something so important."

Jodie's head poked out from behind him. She was hugging a folder in her hands. "Good morning, Mrs. Hayes. I'm here to pick up some documents for Mr. Hayes. I'm sorry to have disturbed both of you."

She was not wearing the brooch on her chest, but I could see a thin string tied on her wrist. It was the last of the blue thread I used to sew the ankle brace with. I reached out to stop her. "Where did you get that piece of string from?"

Jodie looked down at it. "Mr. Hayes said it's the same color as Argentina's jersey. I thought it looked nice, so I tied it on my wrist."

Tristan pulled her behind him. "It's just a piece of string."

I smiled. "Everything seems to be nothing to you."

Tritan's face fell. "Stop embarrassing yourself in front of my subordinate."

Jodie quickly shook her head. "Mrs. Hayes didn't do it on purpose, Mr. Hayes. I must have crossed the line."

I pulled my hand away. "Yes, you must have."

Jodie got teary-eyed, and Tristan quickly handed the scorebook to her while saying in a slightly cold tone, "Wait for me in the car, Jodie."

Before Jodie left while hugging the scorebook to her chest, she gently caressed the blue string. Tristan and I were left standing at the door. He looked at me. "The company is hosting a World Cup-themed event tonight. You should attend it, or others might think something is wrong with our marriage."

I asked him, "And who am I supposed to be there as?"

Tristan acted like he did not understand the question. "As Mrs. Hayes, obviously."

I glanced at the closed door. "But your Mrs. Hayes is someone who can't even get something she wants right away. Even she is forced to wait her turn for it."

Tristan clasped a watch over his wrist as his tone remained calm and composed. "You were always willing to share what you had with others, Dahlia. When did you become so petty?"

I lowered my eyes. "I guess it comes with age."

Tristan paused. He was about to say something when his phone rang. Jodie's name appeared on his phone's screen, and he quickly picked up and replied in a gentle tone, "I'll be down soon."

When the door closed once more, I saw a small, fuzzy piece of blue thread on the cupboard at the door. I picked it up to see that it had been forcefully torn off.

While I was at the registration counter to sign in for the company event, the staff handed the name tag with my name to Jodie. Jodie was taken aback, but she quickly waved it off with a smile. "This name tag belongs to Mrs. Hayes. I can't take it."

The girl at the counter lowered her voice. "Miss Lenford, Mr. Hayes already informed us that you will be standing by his side on stage tonight. The tag is just a formality. Whose name on it isn't important."

I was standing three steps away, and I heard everything clearly. Jodie turned back to see me, flustered. "I had no idea they made a mistake with the tag, Mrs. Hayes. I'll return it to you right away."

Despite her insistence, her fingers clenched the name tag, refusing to let it go. That was when Tristan walked out of the venue in a sharp, black suit, looking like everything was normal. "You should stay in your seat at the family's table, Dahlia. Jodie will be taking over the event on stage due to a last-minute decision."

I looked at him. "A last-minute decision?"

Tristan avoided eye contact as he helped Jodie straighten the name tag on her chest. "Jodie is familiar with the event flow tonight, and the clients love a young face. Don't overthink this, Dahlia."

Someone nearby started laughing. "It's fitting that Mrs. Hayes stays put where she is."

It took me three sleepless nights at home to help him write up an entire soccer-themed marketing plan. I put together the copywriting for the poster and the profiles of lesser-known soccer players, but Jodie was going on stage to take the credit.

When the host invited Tristan up to the stage for his speech, a large image appeared on the bright screen. It was a picture of my blue scorebook. As they enlarged the image of the scorebook, I could see the words, 'The tip of Tristan's ears would turn red after his third drink', appear clearly on the screen.

Everyone started laughing, and Jodie picked up the microphone, winking at the crowd. "This scorebook is a cherished item of Mr. Hayes. I heard that the person who recorded this was a woman who knew soccer well and was particularly cute."

Someone asked, "Is that person Mrs. Hayes?"

Jodie looked at Tristan, waiting for him to affirm the statement. He smiled and said, "It used to be."

The venue turned silent, and he continued, "Now she's more concerned with my health, but I guess that can be considered another form of her care for me."

Laughter rang in the air. I crushed the mineral water bottle in my hand as I sat at the family table. Jodie quickly continued, "Tonight, I'd like to represent that cute lady, and I hope that Mr. Hayes will forgive me if I don't do a good job of telling this story."

Tristan looked at her indulgently. "You're doing very well right now."

Tina, Tristan's mother, was sitting next to me. She lowered her voice. "Stop looking like that. You shouldn't embarrass your man in public like that."

I turned to look at her. "That scorebook is mine, Tina."

She frowned. "You've been married for three years. Do you really need to insist on what belongs to each of you? You should be honored that Tristan is willing to use something of yours in an event like this."

I stayed silent after that.

The event continued on stage, and at the end of the itinerary, Jodie suddenly took out a transparent box containing the silver brooch and the ankle brace torn off the jersey. She said with a smile, "As Mr. Hayes has shared, this piece of cloth represents the most passionate period of his youth, which is why I will be using it as the lucky draw prize for tonight."

I jumped from my seat, and when my chair screeched on the floor, everyone turned to look at me. Tristan frowned right away. "Sit down, Dahlia."

However, I approached the stage instead. "Miss Lenford, don't you know that the piece of cloth you're talking about that represents Mr. Hayes' youth is actually the ankle brace from my college team? I sewed it to his jersey myself, and even though it isn't worth much, you don't have the right to give it out as a prize to strangers."

Jodie clenched the box as tears started streaming down her face. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Hayes. I thought it was fine because Mr. Hayes agreed to it. I had no idea it would bother you so much."

Tristan took the box and stopped me from grabbing it. "The event is still ongoing. Don't embarrass all of us in front of our clients."

I stared at him. "You know what that means to us."

He lowered his voice to warn me, "I do, but that isn't reason enough for you to lose your temper."

The guests started whispering amongst themselves, and Tina stood up with a smile to say to everyone, "Don't worry about it. It's just a normal couple's spat."

She came to my side and grabbed my wrist as her fingernails dug into my flesh. "You can hash this out at home."

However, I refused to budge. Tristan stared at me coldly. "If you still care about our marriage, you should stop this fiasco right now, Dahlia."

I stared at the old ankle brace in the box. The blue thread had been pulled apart messily, and the sewing work was ruined.

After the event ended, I went backstage to look for the scorebook, and I found it under a contract on the table filled with gifts. When I pulled out the scorebook, the contract fell to the ground, and I saw a line written at the bottom of the page.

'South City Sports Center - World Cup-Themed Pavilion Sponsorship - Title Transfer Agreement. Recipient: Jodie Lenford'.

I clenched the contract as I spotted the signing date in the top-right corner of the papers, which was two months ago. I had no idea that they had planned this betrayal so meticulously.