In front of the courthouse, I had just picked up the divorce certificate.

My ex-husband, Percival Thatcher, called out to me, warning me to move my things out by the end of the day, or else he would make me pay. His mistress, Stancy Voss, stood beside him, her smile smug and arrogant.

I couldn't be bothered to acknowledge them and turned to leave.

Unexpectedly, Percival's true nature revealed itself fully in that moment. He strode over and shoved me without a word, "Hazel Farrar, I'm talking to you! Didn't you hear me?"

Behind me were the steps. I stumbled and fell straight down.

Just then, a strong hand reached out to steady me, “Be careful.”

The man's voice was gentle.

I didn't look up but thanked him repeatedly.

Percival, however, was infuriated beyond belief, “Hazel Farrar, now it makes sense why you agreed to the divorce so readily. Now I understand that you've been cheating on me and are having an extramarital affair with another man...”

His voice was so loud that several people turned to look.

Furious, I retorted, “You brought your mistress to get our divorce certificate. Do you expect me to refuse the divorce and live harmoniously with the two of you? And don't accuse me out of thin air, I don't even know this gentleman…”

Percival didn't listen to me at all and, in a fit of rage like a cuckolded husband, rushed forward intending to slap me.

For a moment, I froze, unable to react.

At that moment, the man who had saved me earlier reached out and grabbed Percival's hand, “Sir, mind your language. I don’t know your…” He glanced at my divorce certificate and paused before continuing, “I don’t know your ex-wife at all. But as a man, I know better than to hit a woman. As for you, even if you’re divorced, a day as a couple means a lifetime of affection. Why would you resort to violence?”

Seizing the chance, I slapped Percival twice and sneered, “Percival, I agreed to the divorce to avoid further entanglement with you. If you think that after the divorce you can act without consequences, I'll take the evidence of your infidelity over the years to your workplace and ask your superiors…”

Percival's face changed; he struggled free from the man’s grasp, said nothing, and walked away.

Only then did I turn to thank the man.

I found myself staring into a pair of familiar eyes.

I was stunned.

“No need to thank me. My name is Robert Colton...”

Before he could finish, a woman walked over and extended her hand toward him, “Where’s the card?”

Robert smiled and pulled a card from his pocket, handing it to her, “The one hundred thousand is all there.”

“One hundred thousand? I said two hundred thousand,” the woman raised an eyebrow at Robert.

Robert frowned slightly and pondered for a moment, “But you initially said the bride price was one hundred thousand. Why the sudden increase? This... this isn't right.”

“I’m raising the price now. If you can pay, then we can proceed with the marriage certificate. If not, don’t waste my time. There are plenty of men willing to pay two hundred thousand. Do you really believe that at nearly fifty, you’re still as appealing or in demand?” The woman’s demeanor was arrogant.

“I... then I'll go gather the money...”

“Ah, pfft! Robert, you’re almost fifty and you don't even have two hundred thousand? Why would I marry you? This marriage is off.” The woman threw the card back at Robert and turned to leave.

Not far from us, she linked arms with another man who had been watching the scene quietly and walked into the courthouse with him.

Walking in on someone after they've been dumped is pretty awkward. Before I could figure out how to break the silence, Robert took the initiative: “Sorry about that, must have been quite a show for you... Can you believe this..."

Before he could finish his sentence, his phone rang again.

He fumbled to answer it, clearly distressed.

The call was loud enough that I could hear every word perfectly without the speaker on.

“Dad, did you and Aunt Sophia get the marriage certificate yet? Hurry up and get to Ulden Hotel, Grandma's already booked the venue. Everyone's waiting for you two. We even invited relatives. Hurry up!”

Robert seemed flustered, stammering several times before he could get the words out: “Son, well... Aunt Sophia and I... we broke up.”

“What? You broke up? Weren't you just about to get the marriage certificate? I don't care, you must bring a wife back today. It's not just me saying this, Grandma insists too. How are we supposed to face all the relatives?”

With that, the call abruptly ended.

Listening to all this, I was in a dilemma, unsure if I should stay or leave.

Robert, however, acted like nothing was wrong. He gave me an awkward smile, sighed, wiped his face, and sat down on the steps, looking utterly dejected.

I wanted to comfort him: “Brother, you're a good man. Good men always get their reward.”

His eyes lit up when he looked at me and asked: “You're divorced, right?”

I held up my divorce certificate with a bitter smile.

Robert continued, “Look, you're divorced. The person I was supposed to marry walked out. Why don't we just pair up?”

I was stunned.

But thinking about his earlier kindness, his familiar eyes, and that smile, I found myself nodding instinctively: “Alright.”

“Well, do you have your documents with you? Let's go inside. Here, take this card. There’s $100,000 on it, consider it as bride price. I'll add another $100,000 later.”

I was a bit taken aback. When I married Percival, his family only gave me $30,000 as bride price.

Robert thrust the card into my hand and led me back into the courthouse.

Halfway, he asked me: “If you have second thoughts, it's not too late to back out.”

His words unexpectedly gave me courage: “No regrets. Let’s get married.”

When we came out of the courthouse again, holding the freshly issued marriage certificate, I felt a bit lost.

Did I just... get married again?

Robert extended his hand to me: “My name is Robert Colton. I'm forty-eight, a programmer at a gaming company. I have a twenty-three-year-old son and an elderly mother. But don’t worry, you won't have to take care of them. We can live our own lives.”

I took his hand slowly: “Hazel Farrar. I'm forty-five. I used to be a stay-at-home mom and don’t have a job yet. I have no other relatives. But don’t worry, I'll find a job soon enough to support myself.”

We exchanged smiles, feeling a surprising sense of familiarity amidst the strangeness.

Robert accompanied me to Percival's house to collect my belongings. Percival wasn't home.

My ex-mother-in-law sneered, "Already found yourself a new man? Have you made my son a cuckold?"

I smirked and retorted, "If you want to believe your son has been cuckolded, go right ahead. It's usually the ones who are despicable who think others are as well."

She turned red with anger but dared not say anything more. She started creating trouble while I was packing, saying I couldn't take this and I couldn't take that. I swept all my things into packing bags without even looking at her.

She tried to stop me, but Robert stepped in and held her back. In the end, she was so furious she resorted to cursing.

Back in Robert's old pickup truck, I felt a bit embarrassed and explained to him that I usually wasn't so fierce. It's just that my ex-husband cheated on me and demanded a divorce because I couldn't have children, and after that, his family openly started to make things difficult for me, so naturally, I fought back.

Robert chuckled, "Evil people need to be dealt with in an evil manner. You did the right thing, don't feel bad about it."

I remembered how Percival used to call me a shrew for talking back, saying I wasn't acting like a woman. My eyes moistened, and I turned my head away.

Robert continued to smile, "Let's go. We'll put your stuff at my place first, then I'll take you out to eat."

"Alright."

Robert's house was an old seventy-square-meter apartment in an older neighborhood. I was stunned the moment I walked in. This place, it felt familiar, like I've been here before.

Robert noticed I wasn't moving from the doorway and asked what was wrong. I gave a bitter smile, "I feel like I've been here before... maybe I dreamt about it."

Robert paused, then laughed, "That means we're destined to be. You've dreamt of my house."

I laughed too, but I didn't miss the redness in Robert's eyes as he quickly turned away. I lowered my head, pretending not to see. Just as I could regard Robert as a stand-in, if he saw me as someone else's stand-in, it was only fair.

Robert didn’t let me lift a finger; he carried all my luggage into the bedroom himself. I couldn't help but get up and look around the house. That familiar feeling was getting stronger—it wasn't just a dream—but thinking about it made my head hurt.

"Hazel, what's wrong? Here, sit down. I'll get you a glass of water..."

After drinking a glass of warm water, my headache eased a bit. I met Robert's worried gaze and smiled bitterly, "I had a car accident when I was young and forgot some things after that. My parents said it wasn't anything important, so I didn't care much. But sometimes, when I try to remember certain things, my head hurts."

A hint of heartache flashed in Robert's eyes, "Then let's not think about it. The past is past; what's important is the future."

I nodded emphatically.

"Rest a bit more. Do you want to lie down?"

I shook my head and stood up, "Your folks are waiting for you, right? Let's go over now. I'm feeling much better, and I can nap in the car."

Robert confirmed with me several times to make sure I was okay, his cautious demeanor softening my heart. How long had it been since someone cared for me like this? Since my parents died and my brother went abroad, I've lived like a puppet...

Going downstairs, Robert offered his hand, "Be careful, these old apartments have tall steps."

"Alright." I gently grasped his hand, a sweet feeling bubbling up inside me.