On the day of my wedding, the man I had dated for ten years, Benny Gruce—my childhood sweetheart—eloped.

Not long after, he posted on social media, proudly announcing that he had proposed to Selena Baker—my father’s illegitimate daughter—and she had said yes.

Meanwhile, Justin Rogers, the heir of the esteemed Rogers Family and someone the world believed to be cold and detached, knelt before me in public, begging me to find a new groom.

Three years into our marriage, he treated me with unwavering gentleness and indulgence.

Until one day, I accidentally overheard a conversation between him and a friend.

“Selena has already given birth to an heir. Don’t you plan to divorce Thalia Quinn?”

“As long as she plays the role of a proper housewife, it doesn’t matter who she’s married to.”

In his study, hidden inside a locked box, were ninety-nine love letters—each one written with the sincerest affection, not for me, but for Selena.

[I want to be the most important person in your life—someone you can’t live without, someone you’d never want to leave.]

[While others exchange glances, all I ever want is a fleeting glimpse of you.]

[Every time I pick up a pen, I drift off… I’m sorry, Selena. I’ve been thinking of you all afternoon. I hope you’re happy.]

Three years. It all felt like a dream. A sweet illusion that had now turned into a cruel joke.

I had booked a fake death service.

From now on, we would go our separate ways and never meet again.

After confirming the final arrangements, I met up with a friend to go shopping.

While we were out, Justin called, gently reminding me not to let the housekeeper into the study.

My friend teased me with envy.

“Thalia, you’re so lucky. Even when you’re just shopping, someone’s still worried about you.”

I smiled faintly, watching the tea leaves swirl in my cup.

“We’ve already divorced.”

She froze, stunned.

“Divorced?! Why? Was all his kindness fake? Did he just agree to it so easily?”

I ran my fingers along the rim of the teacup, a helpless smile tugging at my lips.

“Maybe he did.”

She was confused. But inside, I was just as lost. Because even I wasn’t sure if he had truly agreed.

After I overheard that conversation, I drafted a divorce agreement.

The first time I entered his study without knocking, Justin looked startled. He was hurriedly typing on his phone. When he saw me, his face darkened.

His voice was cold and sharp.

“I told you to knock first. Don’t come into the study unless it’s important.”

Before I could respond, his phone rang. He glanced down, frowned and asked impatiently, “What do you want?”

“There’s a document you need to sign.” I set the divorce papers on his desk. He didn’t even glance at them before signing.

Then, waving his hand dismissively, he gestured for me to leave—his eyes never once leaving his phone.

I knew Selena would call him on video almost every other day. Crying, complaining about her marriage to Benny—treating Justin like her emotional dumping ground.

After signing, he never brought up the divorce again.

One more month. Then I’d be free.

That evening when I returned home, dinner was already set on the table: four dishes and a soup, still warm beneath the insulated cover.

Justin stepped out of the study, his usually emotionless face wearing a rare smile.

But the moment his eyes landed on me, that warmth vanished, replaced by his usual indifference.

“I learned a new dish today. Try it. See if you like it.”

He pulled out a chair for me, then headed to the kitchen to get a bowl and chopsticks.

Usually, he didn’t speak much during meals. But today, he broke the silence.

“That document you had me sign the other day—what was it?”

Almost a week had passed and only now did he ask.

It made sense. Lately, Selena had been calling more often, complaining about her fights with Benny and even leaving home to live alone.

And no matter how unreasonable her demands were, Justin would meet them without hesitation.

Just as I was about to answer, his phone rang again.

He glanced at me briefly, then stood and walked back into the study, shutting the door behind him.

I had just taken a sip of soup when he suddenly rushed out, still in his pajamas, heading straight for the door to put on his shoes.

“Selena’s divorced. I’m going out for a bit. Eat without me.”

After leaving those words behind, Justin walked away.

It wasn’t until I discovered the ninety-nine love letters in his study that I realized—Justin had been in love with Selena for a full ten years.

Selena was my father’s illegitimate daughter and that identity had always been a source of shame for her. My father had secretly arranged for her and her mother to live in another villa—ironically, right next door to Justin's.

Although we all attended the same university, I only learned of this arrangement recently.

Justin had been a campus heartthrob—handsome, reserved and born into a prestigious family.

But he had fallen for the quiet and timid Selena. Just to be close to her, Justin would accompany her to meals every single day.

He even joined the ping-pong club, despite it being the sport he disliked most.

Selena had publicly rejected his confession, yet on her birthday, he still set off fireworks for her.

Now that Selena's marriage had ended, Justin was willing to sacrifice our marriage—just to keep me from inheriting the family fortune.

It finally dawned on me: this fake, painful marriage was no longer worth holding on to.

If that’s how it is, I should let them have each other.

And fully set myself free.

Justin didn’t come home the entire day, but he sent me a message in the middle of the night.

[There are two tickets in your bag—for your favorite band. I’m taking tomorrow off so I can go with you. I’m working overtime at the office now, so get some rest first.]

So he still remembered my favorite band.

Over the past three years of marriage, Justin had learned all of my preferences. On every holiday, he would surprise me with thoughtful little gifts. He was attentive, caring—everything a woman could hope for.

Back then, he made me feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

But now, even with him reaching out, I didn’t feel that old spark. Not even a flicker of excitement.

Still, the next day, I went to the concert as planned.

Half an hour after the show started, Justin still hadn’t shown up.

I called him, but the call went straight to voicemail.

This was the first time he had ever forgotten a plan we’d made. After calling him twenty times with no answer, I gave up.

I walked into the venue, feeling strangely empty.

Seeing my favorite band perform should have thrilled me.

But then, during the interactive segment, the camera panned across the crowd and zoomed in on a couple.

It was them—Justin and Selena. Both wearing masks and baseball caps.

No one else would have recognized them.

Selena leaned shyly against Justin, her smile sweet and affectionate.

When the lead singer asked if they were a couple, they both shook their heads.

“It’s the perfect moment—why not confess your feelings?”

Right then, Justin dropped to one knee. He pulled out a ring from his pocket and looked up at Selena, his voice sincere.

“Ten years… Can this ring help me preserve this moment?”

I watched in silence as he slowly slid the ring onto Selena’s finger.

I already knew who lived in Justin’s heart. But seeing it—seeing it with my own eyes—still struck like a blade.

A sharp pain surged through my chest and my eyes filled with tears that refused to stop.

Even as the screen switched back to the lead singer, my tears kept falling.

I collapsed stiffly into my seat, my body frozen. At that moment, the final shred of hope I’d been holding on to... shattered completely.

Through my tears, I sent Justin a message.

“Justin, you broke your promise.”

Less than five minutes later, he replied.

“Something urgent came up. I forgot. I’ll explain when I get back.”

I let out a bitter laugh, unable to suppress the sour ache in my heart.

I didn’t want to stay any longer.

Outside, the crowd had thinned. A few raindrops splashed against my arm.

I hadn’t brought an umbrella. By the time I got home, I was drenched from head to toe.

Then Justin sent another message.

[It’s raining outside. Don’t forget to close the window. Don’t be scared. I’ll be back soon.]

Staring at his message, tears mingled with the rain streaming down my face.

My hand trembled as I gripped the phone. I couldn’t hold back the storm of anger and heartbreak inside me any longer.

So I wrote back.

[Justin, was the concert good?]

This time, he didn’t reply.

It wasn’t until 1 a.m. that Justin finally came home.

When he saw me sitting silently on the sofa, his eyes flickered in surprise. Then, with a guilty expression, he knelt down beside me and gently took my hand in his.

“I’m sorry I didn’t go to the concert with you,” he said softly. “It was my fault. Selena just got divorced… she wasn’t in a good state of mind. I was afraid she might do something reckless, so I stayed with her a little longer.”

“I was planning to come back and go with you, but she promised that if I went with her instead, she wouldn’t do anything irrational. She’s your blood sister, after all. I couldn’t just turn my back on her. Can you understand?”

My tears had long dried. I slowly pulled my hand from his grasp, my voice hoarse and drained.

“I understand.”

It didn’t matter anymore. In less than a month, whatever he did with Selena would no longer concern me.

Seeing my silence, Justin continued coaxing me.

“Tomorrow, I’ll take you to the shooting range. Didn’t you say you’ve always wanted to try it? I’ll call and make a reservation right now. Can you give me a chance to make it up to you?”

I said nothing. For Selena’s sake, he—someone who had once prided himself on never breaking a promise—had started lying.

I was afraid… afraid that if I hoped for even a little, that hope would be shattered all over again.

Justin returned to the study. A moment later, my phone buzzed.

It was Selena. She had sent several photos and videos.

They were shamelessly boastful.

“Don’t blame Justin. I divorced Benny and he was worried about me, so he stayed with me all night. I didn’t know you had concert plans today. If I had, I definitely would've told him to go with you. After all, you are his wife.”

Her tone was sugary, but the images told another story.

In one photo, Justin had his arms wrapped tightly around her, massaging her head with care.

In another, his eyes were red-rimmed with concern as he sat by her bedside, holding her hand tenderly.

And in a video—Selena, drunk and weeping, looked straight at him.

“If I asked you to divorce Thalia and marry me right now… would you do it?”

Justin was silent for a long moment. Then, he answered slowly.

“I would. For the past ten years, there hasn’t been a single moment I didn’t think of you… didn’t want to marry you.”

Hearing those words, I couldn’t help but laugh.

I covered my face, laughing so hard my body trembled as tears streamed between my fingers.

I slumped back on the sofa, utterly drained of strength.

Justin had already showered. When he saw my expression, he walked over without saying a word, bent down and scooped me into his arms, carrying me straight into the bedroom.

He leaned over me, gently kissing my face, his voice low and husky.

“Baby, I’m sorry I hurt you. It was my fault. I won’t do it again.”

As he spoke, his hands began to roam my body. The scent on his skin and the familiarity of his touch filled the air with heat and tension.

Just then, I suddenly pushed him aside and sat up.

“You can sleep in the guest room tonight.”

Justin froze, clearly startled by my sudden movement. When he heard my words—words that drew a line between us—his expression darkened and his emotions exploded.

“Thalia! What the hell are you thinking? I already explained everything to you and apologized. Are you really going to keep dragging this out? It was just a concert. Is sleeping in separate rooms really necessary?!”

I looked up at him and let out a bitter smile.

“Am I the one making a fuss? Justin, you promised to go to the concert with me. But the moment Selena said one thing, you forgot me completely. Do you even know where your heart really is anymore?”

“What are you implying? There’s nothing going on between Selena and me. But if that’s how you want to think, go ahead. I’m not going to argue with you.”

With that, he grabbed a blanket and walked out.

My fingernails dug into my palms as I sat there forcing a bitter smile, mocking myself in silence.

He didn’t even care enough to explain anymore.

***

The next morning, Justin made breakfast like usual.

He made my favorite egg pancakes, urged me to sit down and thoughtfully served me a bowl of porridge.

“I’m sorry for breaking our plans yesterday,” he said gently. “I remember all your favorite things and I’ll always keep my promises to you.”

His warmth wrapped around me like a soft blanket—and for just a moment, I almost forgot.

I almost forgot who those gentle promises were truly meant for.