The man my wife could never forget—her first love—came back to the country, only to discover she was already married to me.

That night, Eric drank himself into a stupor and tragically died in a car accident.

When the news reached my wife, she was devastated. She held his lifeless body in her arms and stayed up all night, unable to sleep.

Everyone said she must hate me now. That she’d surely file for divorce. After all, I was just the man who adored her like a fool—her second option. The one she truly loved had always been Eric.

But surprisingly, she didn’t lash out at me. Instead, she became even more loving.

The woman who had always disliked pets suddenly brought home a dog, saying she wanted to build shared hobbies to strengthen our relationship.

That was time I said I wanted a divorce—right in front of all our friends and family.

Everyone was stunned. Some even whispered I must be possessed.

My wife, Hazel, stared at me in disbelief. “Are you insane? Haven’t I been good to you?”

I stared back, emotionless. “That’s exactly why I want a divorce.”

——

“Austin, what the hell is wrong with you?!” Her eyes turned red with rage. Her voice shook with emotion. “We’ve only been married for four months! You promised to love me forever—have you already forgotten that?”

Gasps echoed around us. My mother rushed over, dabbing at Hazel’s tears with tissues.

“Hazel, don’t cry. Austin is just joking, right? He loves you so much—why would he want a divorce?”

“I’m not joking, Mom. I’m serious. I’m leaving her.”

My mother froze, utterly speechless as she looked into my unwavering eyes. She couldn’t even find words to comfort Hazel anymore.

Hazel’s eyes flamed with fury. She screamed at me hoarsely, “Why are you doing this?! What did I do wrong?”

“You like dogs, so even though I’m terrified of them, I brought one home just for you. Isn’t that enough?”

I stared at her blankly. “You did nothing wrong. I just want a divorce. Please sign the papers.”

My mother lunged forward and snatched the divorce papers from my hand, her fingers trembling uncontrollably.

“Austin, have you lost your mind? You’ve loved Hazel since you were a teenager. You chased her for eight years! You worked yourself to the bone to buy that seaside apartment just because she mentioned liking ocean views. Now that you’ve finally married her, why would you throw it all away?”

I ignored my mother’s pleading eyes and looked coldly at Hazel.

“Sign it. Let’s end this on peaceful terms.”

“Sign it?” Hazel let out a bitter laugh as tears streamed down her cheeks. “Austin, look me in the eyes and tell me the truth—is this about Eric? Do you think that now he’s dead, I finally belong to you? That you can do whatever you want, control me, humiliate me?”

Her fingernail scratched across the words "Mutual Agreement to Divorce" on the document. Her voice suddenly rose in pitch. “Let me tell you—I'll never divorce you!”

“I know you’ve always been jealous of Eric. But he’s dead now! Are you seriously still competing with a corpse?” She collapsed in front of me, sobbing. “I just want to live a normal life with you now. I cook for you, wash your clothes, and even adopted Lucky for your sake—what more do you want from me?!”

My stomach churned at the mention of that golden retriever.

Hazel had been terrified of dogs her whole life. As a child, she was once chased three blocks by a neighbor’s German shepherd. Ever since, she’d trembled at the sight of anything furry.

But two weeks ago, she suddenly walked into our home with a three-month-old golden retriever in her arms, smiling as she said we should raise it together and build a bond.

That dog always stared at me with those wet, watchful eyes. Especially at night, when it would lie silently outside our bedroom door, quietly growling in its throat.

One night, I got up to use the bathroom. In the moonlight, I saw it pawing at my nightstand.

And on that nightstand was our wedding photo.

I pulled my thoughts back and said calmly, “Lucky is a good dog, but I don’t like him.”

“You used to love dogs!” Hazel’s voice cracked with tears. “You begged me to get one. Have you forgotten all of that?”

“Things change.” I cut her off and shoved the divorce papers into her hands. “Just sign it. Let’s meet at the Civil Affairs Bureau tomorrow at 9 a.m.”

“No! I won’t sign!” Hazel burst into tears and tore the divorce papers to shreds. “Austin, just tell me the truth. Is there something going on? Something you can’t say out loud? Whatever it is, we can get through it together!”

Her tears landed on the back of my hand—hot, desperate, pleading.

A lot of our mutual friends were at the scene. They all knew how madly I had once loved Hazel. To them, my sudden desire for a divorce had to mean something was wrong.

“Exactly, Austin,” my friend Avery clapped a hand on my shoulder, “if something’s going on, just tell us. A couple can get through anything together—why rush into divorce?”

But under the weight of all those concerned eyes, I simply shook my head.

“There’s nothing I’m hiding. I just want out.”

My mother completely lost it then. She pointed at me, tears streaming down her face.

“You chased her for eight years! People laughed at you for being a fool in love. You stood outside her building for three hours in the middle of winter just to deliver a bowl of hot soup. When her dad was in the hospital, you ran around all day handling paperwork until you fell asleep in the hallway. Have you really forgotten all that?”

“I haven’t,” I said, rubbing my temples. “And that’s exactly why I need to end this.”

“What the hell are you thinking? Hazel gives you everything—her heart, her effort. What more do you want?!”

My father slammed his teacup onto the floor, rage and disappointment flashing in his eyes.

“How did our Henderson family raise someone like you? Getting the girl of your dreams, only to throw her away like trash? If you dare go through with this divorce, don’t bother calling yourself part of this family again!”

I looked at him in the eye. “Dad, that threat means nothing to me. I’ve already made up my mind.”

Just then, the sound of a car horn blared downstairs. Hazel’s older brother had arrived.

He was infamous for being overprotective. Back when I was chasing Hazel, he threatened multiple times to break my legs if I didn’t back off.

“Austin, you bastard!” He stormed in, grabbing me by the collar and throwing a punch.

His fist landed squarely on my jaw. I didn’t dodge. The metallic taste of blood spread instantly in my mouth.

“Stop it!” Hazel rushed over and grabbed his arm tightly. “Don’t hit him, please! It’s my fault—it’s all my fault...”

She turned to me, eyes brimming with tears that fell like beads on a broken string.

“Austin, please, stop this madness. Let’s go home. I’ll cook your favorite hangover soup. Don’t you love sweet and sour ribs? I’ll go buy some right now—”

“There’s no need.” I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and drew a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Hazel, I don’t have feelings for you anymore.”

“No feelings?” Her voice broke like glass. She looked at me as if I had said the most absurd thing in the world. “Austin, don’t forget—it was you who chased after me relentlessly. And now it’s you who’s begging for a divorce. What do you take me for?”

Voices rose around us, all condemning me—friends, family, everyone. Their accusations hit me like waves crashing down, but I didn’t flinch.

Because my mind was made up.

I said nothing more and walked away.

That night, I planned to stay at a hotel for a few days. But when I checked my phone and bank cards, I realized my balance was nearly zero.

It was only then that I remembered—I had transferred all of my savings into Hazel’s account when we got married. I told her I wanted to give her a sense of security.

Over the years, I worked day and night, handing over every cent I earned without fail. I never carried more than five hundred dollars in my own pocket.

Back then, I truly loved her.

So why am I so determined to divorce her now?

Probably only three people in the world know the answer to that.

The next morning, I went to the art studio where I teach.

Before I even walked in, I heard my students gossiping about me from inside.

"Mr. Henderson is really heartless, huh? Ms. Olson is like a fairy—so beautiful, so gentle—and she does his laundry and cooking too. What more could he possibly want?"

"Exactly! She’s even terrified of dogs, but she still adopted one just because he likes them. Isn’t that enough proof of love?"

"He’s just spoiled now. Back then, he chased her like a dog. Now that he’s got her, he throws her away!"

I pushed the door open. The students instantly fell silent. No one dared speak further, but their eyes spoke volumes—like they were staring at something filthy and disgusting.

I didn’t bother explaining.

Then I heard Hazel’s voice behind me.

“Alright, everyone, back to your paintings. Mr. Henderson is a good person—it’s me who wasn’t good enough.”

I turned. As expected, she had brought the golden retriever with her.

The students reluctantly dispersed, and the only sound left was the soft brushing of paint against canvas.

“Austin.” She walked up to me with a gentle smile on her face. “As long as you stop talking about divorce, I’ll pretend nothing happened yesterday. Come home early, okay? Lucky and I miss you.”

I stared at her without any expression.

“Is it because I didn’t care for you enough before?” she asked softly. “I’ve changed. Look what I got you.”

She pulled out an elegant wooden box from her bag. “It’s the wolf-hair brush you mentioned liking the other day. I had someone bring it back from Brooklyn. Try it—see if it feels right in your hand.”

One student gasped, “Oh my god, isn’t that handmade by a national heritage master? I heard it’s impossible to get, no matter how much you’re willing to pay!”

“Ms. Olson, you’re way too good to Mr. Henderson. If my future girlfriend is even half as thoughtful as you, I’d count myself lucky.”

“Come on, Mr. Henderson, she’s practically perfect. What else could you possibly want? Be careful or you’ll end up in the classic ‘begging-for-your-wife-back’ cliché.”

I ignored their teasing.

Then, without a word, I took the precious calligraphy brush and tossed it into the trash.

“If it’s a gift for me, then I have the right to throw it away. You’re okay with that, aren’t you?”

Hazel’s eyes instantly turned red. She bit her lip hard, unable to speak through the wave of hurt.

The studio erupted in outrage.

“Are you even human? She gives you her heart and soul and you just stomp on it like that?”

“Anyone who thought you two were some kind of fairytale couple must’ve been blind. You’re not even worthy of her!”

I tuned them all out.

Without another glance, I simply told Hazel to sign the divorce papers as soon as possible, then packed up my art supplies and left.

Her tearful voice echoed behind me.

“Austin! What do you want me to do?! What will it take for you to forgive me? For you to stay?!”

I didn’t look back.

For the next three days, I ignored all her calls and messages.

On the fourth day, my mother called, her tone anxious and sharp. “You little brat, where the hell have you been?! Did you know that Hazel went all the way to Santa Monica Mountain to pray for your forgiveness? She passed out halfway up the trail. Get your ass to the hospital now!”

When I arrived, Leonel—her older brother—was by her bedside. The moment he saw me, he lashed out.

“You’ve got some nerve showing your face here! She climbed that mountain at dawn just to pray for your safety, hiked for six straight hours, and only just regained consciousness!”