Percival Phelps’ little girlfriend was throwing a tantrum, and it was putting him in a bad mood.

At dinner, he kept picking up his phone to send messages.

Noticing the frown on his face, I couldn't help but speak up. "My brother’s jewelry company just launched a new collection, and sales are booming. Maybe you should buy that limited edition set for her? She’s easy to please, and pink would look great on her—"

Before I could finish, he suddenly looked up at me, his expression unreadable.

His phone slipped from his hand and hit the floor with a loud clatter.

I blinked and quickly added, "—it would really suit her skin tone."

...

Today was Thanksgiving Day.

On holidays like this, Percival and I usually went back to the family mansion to spend time with his parents.

Only, his parents were supposed to be away in Europe on vacation, and their flight had been delayed, so they couldn’t make it back in time for today.

Though they weren’t the most affectionate people, they were getting older and liked to put on the image of the perfect couple. They always took holidays like Thanksgiving very seriously, and had called ahead to make sure we still came to the mansion for dinner, even though they wouldn’t be there. It was their way of showing they valued family.

We didn’t want to cause any trouble, so we reluctantly agreed to go along with it.

In the afternoon, Percival and I went to my house to have a reunion meal with my parents and my brother and sister-in-law.

Later, we begrudgingly headed to the old family mansion for the dinner we were expected to attend.

Even on Thanksgiving, Percival, as CEO, still had work to do. He went back to the office right after lunch.

That evening, he came to pick me up, and we drove to the family mansion together.

But the moment we got in the car, I could tell something was off.

He didn’t greet me with his usual warm smile and hug. Instead, he gave a half-hearted twitch of his lips and immediately went back to staring at his phone.

I glanced at the screen—it was open to Instagram.

He was probably waiting for a message from someone, but it hadn’t come.

His lips pressed into a tight line, and his face darkened.

After a while, he angrily tossed the phone onto the seat, leaned back against the headrest, and closed his eyes.

I glanced at the phone as it bounced once and slid to the floor.

Raising an eyebrow, I asked, "Bad mood? Something at work?"

Percival rubbed his forehead and shot me a glare, muttering, "Don’t pretend like you don’t know."

Of course, I knew exactly what was going on.

He’d never kept his affairs with other women a secret.

Recently, he’d started seeing a new girlfriend.

At lunch, while we were at my house, his phone had rung, and he stepped outside to answer it.

It was probably her, asking him to spend the holiday with her.

Percival had refused.

He had plans to have dinner with me at the family mansion.

One thing I could say about him was that, once he made a commitment, he usually stuck to it—especially when it came to promises made to his parents.

"Sweetheart, I can’t have dinner with you tonight. You’ll have to—"

I’m sure he didn’t even get to finish the sentence before she hung up.

I’d heard the dog barking in the front yard, so I went to check. That’s when I overheard him talking gently.

Looking at the phone after the call ended, I saw a flash of resigned affection in his eyes.

It seemed like his little girlfriend was throwing a fit over it and ignoring him now.

They’d only been together a week, still in that sweet, honeymoon phase.

The drive remained silent until we reached the family mansion.

When we got out of the car, Percival leaned in, pinched my cheek, and said affectionately, "Baby, I told you—those women are just distractions. You don’t have to stoop to their level. You know I lose interest after three months at most."

This time, instead of staying silent like I usually did, I smiled and nodded. "Mhm, okay."

Percival’s expression faltered for a moment.

"Your phone's not with you," I pointed to the car, reminding him.

During dinner, Percival kept reaching for his phone to send messages.

This was one of the reasons women were drawn to him. As long as the novelty lasted, he'd shower someone with affection, elevate them to the heavens, and give them whatever they wanted.

When his girlfriend threw a tantrum, he'd enjoy playing along, patiently coaxing her. But once he grew tired, he'd turn as cold as stone, and no matter how much she fussed, he'd refuse to even acknowledge her.

If she really irritated him, he'd have no problem kicking her out of the city.

But clearly, his current girlfriend hadn’t hit that point yet. He kept sending message after message, but his phone remained silent.

It seemed she had a stubborn streak.

Throughout dinner, Percival sulked, wearing a clear "I’m not happy" expression. He was fidgeting, restless, like he had ants in his pants, and it was starting to ruin my appetite too.

When Opal brought over the soup, Percival unlocked his phone again, and with an impatient flick of his long leg, he carelessly stretched it out. His foot accidentally bumped Opal’s leg.

I watched in horror as my favorite fish ball soup wobbled in Opal's hand and spilled all over the floor. The porcelain bowl shattered, and soup splashed everywhere.

"Can you stop already? If you don’t want to eat, just leave!" I took a deep breath.

Percival apologized sincerely. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your meal. I won’t check my phone anymore."

Seeing the deep furrow in his brow, I couldn’t help but speak up. "My brother’s jewelry company just launched a new collection. It's flying off the shelves. Why don’t you get her the limited edition set? She’s easy to please, and the pink would look great on her—"

Before I could finish, he suddenly looked up, his expression unreadable.

His phone "clattered" to the floor.

I blinked and kept going, "...it would look stunning with her skin tone."

Percival stared at me intently, as though studying my face.

After a long silence, he seemed to believe I was sincere. He scoffed coldly, grinding his teeth. "Rosa, you're something else, aren't you? Trying to sell your brother's products to me."

I shot back defiantly, "Tell me honestly, does Garrett Jewel really need more customers? This new six-pointed star pink limited edition just came out, and there’s only one in the world. Do you know how many people are lining up to pre-order? My brother hasn’t even made a move yet—he’s holding out to stir up more buzz."

"I was trying to help you out by being shameless enough to ask my brother, and this is how you thank me?"

In reality, the jewelry was expensive and flashy, but the value for money wasn’t great. My brother had initially planned to rent it out. Of course, if someone wanted to buy it, that would be even better.

If Percival was willing to buy, it would still be a contribution to Garrett Jewel. Why not buy it from him?

"Fine! Fine!" Percival nodded. "I’ll go to your brother and buy the jewelry right now!"

With that, he stormed out.

As I watched the car’s headlights light up the yard, I felt a strange sense of confusion. I couldn’t understand why he was upset.

When it came to spending money on women, he was always generous, sometimes willing to spend ridiculous amounts just to make a woman happy.

This jewelry didn’t seem expensive at all to him, did it?

After Percival left, I calmly resumed eating. In fact, I ended up eating more than usual.

Once dinner was over, I sat on the couch and turned on the TV. I found myself laughing uncontrollably at a funny scene in a variety show.

Before I knew it, over two hours had passed.

Opal turned off the kitchen light, covered me with a light blanket, and reminded me to get some rest before heading back to her room.

The large living room was now empty, except for me.

As I continued watching the amusing scenes on TV, I laughed so hard that tears started streaming down my face.

The hot, heavy tears rolled down my cheeks.

I covered my face, sobbing uncontrollably. And yet, amidst my tears, I started laughing again.

I wasn't sad at all.

Deep down, I knew this was a cry of happiness.

I was genuinely happy to have finally let go of Percival.

I did it.

At last, I no longer felt pain or sorrow because of him. I no longer let him control my emotions.

Percival couldn't affect me anymore.

Even though it took four long years to get here.

Four years. Like a slow, deliberate cleansing, I gradually removed Percival from my heart, leaving no trace behind.

I applauded myself—Rosa, you did great!

Since noon today, when I overheard Percival talking to his little girlfriend on the phone, speaking to her so gently and soothingly, I felt nothing but calm. Not a single ripple of emotion.

I just knew it—I was finally free.

Percival and I had been childhood sweethearts, with years of shared feelings.

Unlike the countless arranged marriages in wealthy families, we truly loved each other.

So, when I first found out about his affair, I couldn't accept it.

But everyone around me kept telling me that Percival had done enough for me.

At least, they said, he was just having fun, never getting emotionally involved, switching women every now and then.

Most importantly, he respected me as his wife. He showed up at every event for the Garrett Group, always supporting me, giving me the respect and dignity I deserved.

If some bold woman dared to cause a scene in front of me, Percival would be the first to put her in her place and kick her to the curb.

There were even people who envied me, saying I was lucky to have a husband like Percival.

In our circle, whether a man cheats or not doesn’t matter—the most important thing is the benefit.

My family saw it that way.

They didn’t care about Percival’s affair.

My father and brother, being men themselves, sympathized with him.

They believed that a man having affairs was just paying for pleasure.

Rational men understand the importance of family, no matter how much they play around.

Especially in arranged marriages, the bond between husband and wife isn’t about love—it's about mutual benefit.

In the world of high society, talking about love, loyalty, and monogamy only gets you mocked.

My sister-in-law once advised me, “At least you two married for love. Unlike me and your brother—it was purely a business arrangement. We barely talk, but we manage. Life’s different, right? As for love, I gave up on that idea a long time ago.”

Even my mom tried to help me accept reality. “Look at your dad—he was the same way when he was younger, always out playing around. The women he’s been with, I’ve lost count. But he was sensible. He promised me he wouldn’t have any illegitimate children, and I let it go. Over the years, as he got older and lost interest in all that, he came back to the family. Now, no woman is more important to him than his fishing rod.”

Mom held my hand and said earnestly, “Men are like children. When they’re young, they play. But once they’re tired, they naturally come home. What’s different about you and Percival is the years of love you share—no other woman can ever compare to you in his heart.”

But I didn’t understand. I couldn’t wrap my mind around it.

All I knew was this kind of love, this kind of marriage—it made me miserable.

Everyone always says that when you reach our level, you can waste all the wealth in your hands if you want. So why not make yourself happy?

For men, finding women outside is just a form of entertainment—why care?

But it seemed like only Percival was happy. I wasn’t.

This life that made me so unhappy—I’m going to change it.

The people who made me miserable—I’m going to get rid of them.

That night, I slept deeply.

I even had a long dream.