On our tenth wedding anniversary, my wife Eleanor Powell gifted me a puppy.

I took the puppy back to the pet store and sent her the divorce papers.

Her young boyfriend, Daniel Zuckerberg, tearfully begged me, "It's my fault. You can take it out on me, but don't trouble Ms. Powell with these trivial things."

Eleanor gently soothed Daniel's hand but looked at me and said, "Stop making a scene. You're thirty now. You know, you can't satisfy me on the bed anymore."

A thirty-year-old man might not match up in bed to a twenty-something, but he must have the charm of experience.

By the time Eleanor remembered to call me, I was already on a plane.

——

When I got home, I found Eleanor sitting on the couch, looking all mopey.

The place was a mess, and the lilies on the table were all wilted and curled up.

"Did playing Runaway funny?"

I'd been in Switzerland for nearly a month, and Eleanor only just realized I was gone.

She still thought I was the guy who put her first in everything, her personal servant.

I opened my suitcase, pulled out the souvenirs I bought, and the divorce papers, placing them in front of Eleanor.

Eleanor glanced at them casually, scoffing, "Childish games. You're too old for this nonsense."

I didn't say anything.

Eleanor cleared her throat.

"Alright. Dan... Daniel didn't mean it. Young people just love fluffy animals. If you think that gift wasn't fancy enough, I'll get you something else."

With that, she tossed me a luxury car show catalog.

Back when we were dating, she'd go all out for even a 100-day hand-holding anniversary.

Now, she couldn't even remember our tenth wedding anniversary.

I was about to pack up and leave when my eye caught on a car in the catalog.

I got a BMW classic for my thirtieth birthday.

Now, it seemed Eleanor had given the new model to Daniel, and I was stuck with the one he didn't want anymore.

I took a deep breath, feeling a bit disgusted, and tossed the car keys onto the table.

As I left, I bumped my leg on the table, and it hurt so much that I almost cried.

Eleanor was busy scrolling through her phone, not even noticing what happened to me. She casually brought up a topic, chatting aimlessly.

"If you find a good one, get a kid's size for Henry. And maybe a blue shirt, little boys look cute in blue."

It suddenly hit me that Daniel was wearing a blue shirt the day he cried at my doorstep.

"I don't know what size clothes he wears."

I could hardly remember the last time I saw Henry, my son.

Back then, Eleanor had convinced me to quit my job to take care of the newborn Henry.

But her family was worried my 'poor' vibe would rub off on Henry, so as soon as he was a month old, they took him away.

I only got to see Henry at family dinners during the holidays.

He was my own son, yet I never even got to hold him.

Eleanor's tone carried a hint of annoyance.

"Forget it. I'll have Daniel pick out something. His taste is way better than yours. It'd be great if Henry turns out like him."

Of course, I didn't have Daniel's kind of taste.

Daniel was Eleanor's neighbor, young, handsome, and from a wealthy family.

He'd just finished university in the US and joined Eleanor's company to kill time.

The Powells didn't welcome me, but they welcomed Daniel with open arms.

Even in their family photos, it was Daniel holding Henry instead of me, standing by Eleanor.

I rubbed my swollen knee. "You're right, so let's just get this divorce over with quickly so I don't mess up your family time."

"Are you enough?"

Eleanor was furious, slamming her phone down on the coffee table.

"I've been good enough to you, don't push your luck. Remember, without me, you're nothing!"

She finally said what was really on her mind.

For ten years, in Eleanor's eyes, I was the one who had climbed up, leeching off her.

But suddenly, I felt a lot lighter.

We no longer had to live like we were acting out a script.

"You've been good to me..." I said calmly, "When my mom passed away, I called you, but you didn't pick up. You were probably at a concert with Daniel."

It was kind of ironic. My wife was a billionaire, yet my mom died because she couldn't afford surgery.

My parents were harsh to my sisters. After my dad passed away, all five of my sisters ran off and cut ties with us.

When mom got sick, I was the only one who took care of her.

I may have married into wealth and power, but every penny I spent had to be approved in advance.

The day my mom suddenly fell ill, I called Eleanor countless times.

The only call that went through, I didn't hear Eleanor's voice, just deafening music.

She claimed to be too busy with work to visit my dying mom, yet she had time to go to concerts with her young man.

After hearing my words, Eleanor's brow furrowed.

"Look at you now, just like your mom."

She impatiently retreated to the bedroom as if afraid I'd dwell on it.

In the past, no matter who was wrong, as long as Eleanor ignored me, I'd make her seafood noodles to apologize.

She eating the noodles meant we made up.

But this time, when Eleanor returned to the living room, she wouldn't find steaming noodles waiting. There would be just an empty room.

The suitcase was right next to me, and I didn't hesitate any longer.

Outside the car window, the twinkling lights flew by like my once dazzling youth.

Eleanor and I were each other's first loves, from school uniforms to wedding gowns.

I once asked Eleanor why she liked me.

She said, "Because you're different from everyone else."

She was a privileged princess. Everything in the world was within her reach, except for me.

After she was held back due to illness, my name always topped hers on the report card.

My honors easily overshadowed her brilliance.

So Eleanor began to pursue me wildly, even confessing to me publicly at an awards ceremony.

When she found out I was from a poor family, she convinced the principal to set up a scholarship just for me.

She gradually filled my life.

She was bold and flamboyant, yet always respected my dignity.

If it had just been that, I could have suppressed my budding feelings with reason.

I completely let down my guard the day my parents divorced.

My family was large, and we lived hand to mouth.

I found a puppy outside and didn't dare bring it home, so Eleanor and I secretly raised it in the woods nearby.

But my dad, in a fit of anger, killed the puppy right in front of me. He skinned it and threatened my mom not to divorce him.

I cried my heart out, ready to take my dad down with me.

Eleanor arrived just in time, leaving a stack of money for my dad. She took me away, saving my future.

A man doesn't easily shed tears unless he's in deep pain.

That day, I broke down my tough exterior and poured out years of bitterness.

I said I'd never raise a dog again. It was a pain I'd never shake off.

I vowed to study and work hard, never to live a life where I was manipulated and had no control.

Eleanor held my hand, gentle yet firm. "I'll be with you."

That was her promise at eighteen, but after so many years, it had expired.

Eleanor turned my most shameful past into a joke for Daniel to laugh at.

The salvation I thought I had was actually another abyss.