At the banquet for our fifth wedding anniversary, the intern coughed so hard her whole body trembled.

My husband, Nathan Floyd, the CEO of Imperial Star Group, casually draped his jacket over her shoulders, and Vivian Fox picked up the sleeve and covered her mouth with it.

On the spot, I yanked the jacket back and threw it into the trash can, and asked for a divorce.

Nathan's brows knit tightly.

"Just because of a piece of clothing, you're going to embarrass Vivian?"

"She used your clothes to cover her mouth!"

Nathan snorted.

"It's just covering her mouth for a second. If you're going to make a scene like this, then don't celebrate anniversaries anymore."

As he spoke, he grabbed Vivian and strode away.

I turned around and made a phone call.

"Ethan Walker, I'm getting divorced right now. Does the promise you made back then still count?"

1.

The heat in the private room made people feel stifled. My husband's secretary, Vivian Fox, covered her mouth and coughed so hard her whole body trembled.

Nathan casually took off his jacket and draped it over her.

Vivian naturally pulled the clothes closer, grabbed the hanging sleeve and covered it over her mouth, then coughed hard a few more times.

After coughing, she said with feigned surprise, "Mr. Floyd, I'm sorry—this is Ms. Harding's wedding anniversary gift to you. How did I get it dirty?"

She added shyly, "But this fabric really is comfortable. Even covering my mouth with it, you can feel how soft and gentle it is. Wearing it should be light and warm, right?"

Nathan went along with it and gathered her long hair that had fallen down, his tone indulgent. "It's no big deal. Later I'll have her order you two pieces of women's clothing."

"If you've caught a cold, you need to rest more. I'll give you tomorrow off."

Vivian gave a shy smile. When she looked at me, there was an extra trace of provocation in her eyes that was hard to detect.

"Then I'll have to trouble Ms. Harding. Mr. Floyd is capable and also gentle and considerate—Ms. Harding, you're really blessed."

Nathan lifted a cheerful smile, turned his head, and reminded her to take her medicine.

Watching the two of them talk in low voices, their heads getting closer and closer, my heart completely cooled down.

From him putting the jacket on Vivian, to her picking it up to cover her mouth, it was only a short dozen seconds, yet it was like a dull knife scraping at my nerves again and again.

I thought of how when I had a cold and sneezed once, he immediately covered his mouth and nose in disgust and scolded me. "Don't you know colds are contagious? You don't even know to avoid people."

After that, using fear of infection as the reason, he moved to the study for a week.

It was only after I repeatedly promised that I would pay attention in the future that he unwillingly returned to the master bedroom, and he never once thought of letting me rest at home for a day.

So it turned out he wasn't afraid of infection, and it wasn't that he didn't know how to care about people—it was just that that person wasn't me.

I slowly stood up, walked to Nathan's side, yanked the jacket over, crumpled it, and threw it into the trash can.

Under his astonished gaze, I said the words I had thought about for a long time.

"Let's get a divorce."

Nathan's brows furrowed, and anger slowly rose in his eyes.

"What are you making a scene about now? Just because of a piece of clothing, you're going to embarrass Vivian?"

I curled the corner of my lips, with a trace of self-mocking bitterness.

"It's a jacket, and it's half a bite of dessert, and it's the same cup of water. It's the indulgence in your eyes when you look at her that you've never had for me. What relationship does she have with you? Why can she be so intimate with you?"

I watched his expression slowly sink, and said word by word. "Nathan, I can endure you socializing until late at night. I can endure you going in and out with her. But I can't endure you generously giving other people what I've never had."

Nathan stiffened for a moment, then got angry and shoved me away.

"Enough. You're the one being jealous and petty, shamelessly chasing after a man—don't splash dirty water on Vivian."

I staggered, and as I braced myself on the table, my body knocked over the tablecloth.

All the dishes crashed onto me with a clatter. Soup dripped down my dress as I stood against the wall, a complete mess.

Nathan only helped Vivian up. His gaze cut toward me, ice-cold.

"Smear Vivian's reputation again, and forget about any future anniversaries. When that time comes, apologies won't save you."

He took Vivian's hand and strode out.

The private room erupted. Vivian's lackeys started in immediately.

"You still dare to give Mr. Floyd attitude—did you forget how you shamelessly chased after him back then?"

"Better go after him. Otherwise, today's anniversary? He's spending it with Vivian."

A few friends tried to reason with me quietly.

"Alex, don't let pride ruin everything. The Harding–Floyd deal just closed. If he backs out, your father..."

My chest tightened.

If Nathan wanted, he really could force me to kneel and beg Vivian for forgiveness. It wouldn't be the first time.

But this time, I was done swallowing my pride. I wanted to live for myself, just once.

I grabbed the hard liquor from the table, tilted my head back, and drained it. The burn clawed down my throat and into my stomach. My eyes stung.

So this is what they mean when they say alcohol hurts. Just like life.

When I got home, Nathan wasn't there. Vivian had posted on social media—he was with her at the hospital.

His arm was around her shoulders, letting her lean into his chest. His other hand held the IV tube, warming it in his palm.

Vivian curled against him, voice soft and pitiful.

"Mr. Floyd, I made Ms. Harding misunderstand you today. It's all my fault. Hurry home and keep her company, okay? Otherwise she'll make a scene again."

Disgust flickered across Nathan's face.

"Doesn't she just want to chain me to her side? She wants my money, she wants me, and she wants my heart too. Greedy and pathetic."

He took Vivian's hand, voice turning tender. "I only want to be with the person I care about. She can't control that."

Through the screen, I watched Vivian's face flush with shyness. She lifted her chin, straightening slightly. Nathan seized her red lips, and the two of them kissed, deep and lingering.

I turned off my phone. Tears slid past the corners of my eyes.

Nathan and I were never really in love. It was always one-sided—my side.

I'd never dated anyone. Never been cherished.

It started at a banquet when my father slapped me across the face, berating me for "making things difficult" for my stepmother.

Nathan stepped forward. He pulled up the surveillance footage and proved my stepmother had poured the wine on herself. Then he gently pressed an ice pack to my cheek and coaxed me with a small piece of dessert until I smiled again.

I fell for him right there.

That impulse hit—the kind where you want to spend your whole life with someone.

From that day on, my eyes followed Nathan everywhere. I begged my father to take me to every banquet where Nathan might appear. I studied what he liked, memorized his preferences.

On every holiday, I gave gifts tailored to his tastes. I became the companion who came whenever he called, free of charge.

High society has sharp eyes. Everyone saw the love blazing in mine, and they whispered about how shameless I was.

Nathan just listened indifferently, still weaving through crowds, as if none of the gossip had anything to do with him.

Until the car accident.

I threw myself in front of him without thinking. I was unconscious for three months.

When I woke up, he was different. He stewed chicken soup for me himself. He took me to Antarctica to watch the stars. Like real lovers, we watched movies, held hands, wandered the streets at midnight.

He even invested in my father's company, letting him buy into projects worth billions.

One night, as he drove me home, I finally worked up the courage.

"Nathan, I like you."

That day, he pulled me into a jewelry store and picked out the biggest diamond.

"Dummy, the guy's supposed to confess. You can't let the girl make the first move."

That day, he knelt on one knee and spoke like he meant it.

"Alex Harding, marry me."

I cried tears of joy. Three years of secret longing, finally answered. I thought he was the person I'd spend my whole life with.

Until Vivian Fox appeared.

Only then did I realize—loving someone can make you lower your standards without limit.

Vivian could carelessly destroy his favorite houseplants. She could eat snacks in his office and let crumbs scatter across the carpet.

Nathan would just frown. "What a naughty little thing."

Then he'd remind her, all indulgent, to stop watching trashy videos. He'd even put a face mask on her himself, clumsy but gentle.

Unlike me—I restrained every word, every gesture, terrified of making him uncomfortable. Terrified he'd find me disgusting.

Vivian's boundary-crossing only got worse.

Until one negotiation, Nathan bypassed me entirely and brought her instead.

When I rushed over, he was having her sign the contract—for a deal I had already closed.

I snatched the paperwork and demanded an explanation. He was angrier than I was.

"Why are you so petty? You won't even let a newcomer have one deal?"

"Nathan, she's a liberal-arts secretary. Does she know after-sales? This is a multi-billion-dollar contract. If something goes wrong, who takes the fall?"

He said one cold sentence—"I will"—and held Vivian's hand as she signed.

We didn't speak for weeks. For the first time, I wavered on this love I'd chased so long.

Then the contract fell apart. The client threatened to break it and sue for damages.

Nathan said, "Wife, help me. I really can't do this without you."

Just like that, all my doubt hardened back into certainty. I salvaged the deal, spent three months on after-sales, and kept the relationship intact.

And so the cycle began again.

Vivian added mango juice to my milk. I was hospitalized from the allergic reaction. Nathan spent the whole time comforting her—then made me reassure her it wasn't her fault.

I was two weeks pregnant. Vivian deliberately poured cleaning solution at my office doorway. I slipped. I fell.

I lost the baby.

The moment I reached for my phone to call the police, Nathan grabbed my wrist.

"Vivian's still young. You can't ruin her future over this."

"Alex, she's just immature. She made a bet with coworkers about your balance. She didn't mean it. We can have more kids."

I was furious. I screamed. I cursed. For the first time, I said the word divorce.

Nathan called my father and stepmother.

My stepmother looked me over and sneered. "A little girl played a joke on you and you throw a tantrum? You really think you're royalty? That everyone has to cater to you?"

Dad delivered the verdict. "Don't even think about divorce. The Harding family can't afford that embarrassment."

"Keep making trouble, and I'll have your mother's ashes removed from the family cemetery. Dumped in some unmarked hillside. That's what she gets for raising a jealous thing who fights over men."

I just lay there on the hospital bed, listening to them take turns cursing and threatening me.

Finally, Nathan spoke. "Alex, I've never once thought about divorcing you. From now on, I won't let Vivian pull anything again."

That day, right in front of me, he called her. He scolded her, voice sharp with anger.

Through my tears, I forgave him.

But today, that last thread of faith snapped completely.

"Nathan Floyd, I don't want you anymore."

When Nathan came home, it was already late. Vivian came with him.

She looked at me like a startled deer, all timid and fragile.

"Ms. Harding, the doctor said my tonsillitis is really severe. I might spike a fever. Mr. Floyd didn't feel right leaving me alone, so he brought me back with him."