Five years ago, Gary Cooper proposed to me 99 times just to marry me.

Five years later, to cheer up the secretary he adored, he handed me 99 divorce papers.

"Relax. I'm not actually divorcing you. I'm just humoring her. Just pretend like you always do. There's no need to sign."

When Gary said it, he was even smiling.

As for me, the heartbreak I once felt had long since faded. Now, there was barely a ripple left.

I suddenly remembered what day it was and asked quietly, "Will you be home for dinner tonight?"

He paused for a moment, then casually shook his head.

"Probably not. Today's kind of special. I don't want her to get jealous."

I nodded and watched him walk out the door.

Then, I picked up a pen and carefully signed my name on the 99th divorce agreement.

"Just pretend like you always do. There's no need to sign."

Gary Cooper pulled out the divorce agreement like it was routine. His tone sounded like he was comforting me.

I took the paper from him, completely calm. I didn't even feel like responding to what he said.

"Shannon."

Gary frowned slightly, clearly annoyed by my silence, and repeated himself.

I reluctantly pulled my eyes away from my phone and answered, "Okay."

Ever since Priscilla Beck appeared, this exact scene had played out 99 times.

The first time happened right after I found out I was pregnant.

Gary handed me the divorce agreement Priscilla had written herself. His eyes wouldn't meet mine.

"I've been seeing someone. It's her birthday tonight. Just do me a favor."

My mind went blank. The glass in my hand slipped and shattered on the floor.

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" I asked.

He frowned and glanced at my still flat stomach. "Think about the baby. Don't make a scene."

It was our first child.

That night, I lay in bed like a ghost, crying until nearly morning.

In the end, I gave in.

The second time happened when my mother was seriously ill.

By then, my pregnancy was already showing. I was running back and forth between the hospital and home every day, my belly heavy in front of me.

Gary stopped me in the hospital hallway and handed me another agreement.

"This is the second one. Same as last time. I'll take a picture and send it to her so she knows."

He even used my mother's medical bills to pressure me.

People passed by in the crowded hallway while I stood there holding the divorce agreement in both hands. Under everyone's gaze, I felt like a complete clown.

After that came the third time, the seventh time, the twenty-eighth time…

By the 32nd time, I lost the baby.

The doctor said it was caused by severe depression during pregnancy. My hormones had been completely thrown off.

The baby had already grown tiny hands and feet.

But it still couldn't stay.

That time, I completely broke down.

I grabbed the divorce agreement from Gary's hand, signed my name across it, and threw it back at him.

"I've had enough. Let's just get divorced!"

My throat tightened as I shouted like a madman, my voice shaky and desperate.

Gary looked at me in surprise.

Then, he laughed.

He reached out and slowly pulled me into his arms, his voice gentle.

"Don't be silly. Back then, I proposed to you 99 times before you agreed to marry me. If we're going to divorce, we'll wait until we reach the 99th agreement. Otherwise, I'd be taking too big a loss."

I froze.

I stared at the man in front of me as if he were some kind of monster.

Five years ago, when Gary proposed to me, I had just been accepted into an overseas study program.

To make me stay, he proposed 99 times.

On the 100th time, I finally gave in.

His persistence moved me so much that I gave up the opportunity I had worked so hard for.

I stayed and became the woman everyone envied in Starborough.

Until the moment he said he would be "taking a loss," I had believed those proposals were proof that we loved each other.

A wave of exhaustion and bitterness swallowed me whole.

After that day, I never brought up divorce again.

A locked metal box had appeared in the nightstand beside the bed in the master bedroom.

Inside were every single divorce agreement Gary had given me over the past five years.

Today, the 99th agreement finally arrived.

My fingers trembled as I typed on my phone, but my face stayed calm.

"Will you be home for dinner tonight?"

Today was the 5th anniversary of my marriage to Gary.

By now, I knew the routine.

He would leave me behind and take Priscilla to the most expensive restaurant in Starborough for a perfect evening.

Just like always, this time was no different.

"Probably not," he said casually. "Today's kind of special. I don't want her to get jealous. Then I'd have to spend the whole night calming her down. It'd be too much trouble."

I nodded and said nothing. I simply watched him leave.

Only after he disappeared from sight did I finally let out a quiet sigh.

Then I picked up a pen and carefully signed my name on the 99th divorce agreement.

-

That night, with the divorce papers I had waited so long for finally in my hands, I drank until I was completely drunk.

When the alcohol hit its peak, my mind drifted back five years.

Back then, I had just won a full scholarship through my own hard work. My future felt bright.

Then, suddenly, someone doctored sultry photos of me and spread them across every corner of the college forum. At my lowest moment, Gary held my hand and went door to door through the dorms, confronting the people spreading those photos.

He demanded that they apologize and clear my name.

I still remembered how warm his hand felt that day. It was so warm that it felt as if it had burned straight into my heart.

"As long as I'm here," he told me, "no one gets to bully you."

Later, he proposed to me 99 times, and I gave up my chance to study overseas.

On our wedding day, when he saw me in my wedding dress, he cried so hard that he could barely speak.

He said marrying me was the greatest blessing of his life. He promised he would treat me well forever, that he would make me the happiest woman in the world.

Back then, every word sounded sincere.

What I didn't understand then was that people change pretty easily.

I finished the last sip of wine in my glass and staggered toward the master bedroom.

From the nightstand, I took out the small safe that held the agreements.

The password was 0105, the date Gary and I got married.

I had carefully labeled each agreement, from the first to the ninety-eighth with its number and date.

One was from the night of Priscilla's birthday.

Another was from Valentine's Day, when they went to Rivermoor to watch the snow. Gary had his assistant deliver it to the house.

And one was during my mother's birthday party.

Gary had slipped it into the gift box he brought for her. It nearly got discovered.

That was the only time Gary panicked after publicly admitting he was cheating.

He knew my mother was the kind of woman who couldn't tolerate infidelity.

When my father cheated years ago, she had packed her bags and walked out with three-year-old me without hesitation.

Of course, she could do the same again and force me to divorce her worthless son-in-law.

So, that night at the birthday party, Gary acted like a completely different person. He stayed glued to my side the entire evening.

Priscilla called again and again, but he rejected every call. He was terrified my mother would notice something.

What he didn't know was that I was even more nervous than he was.

My mother's illness required money. A lot of it. So, I couldn't afford to divorce him yet.

That night, to everyone watching, we looked like the perfect couple, one of the rare true love stories in high society.

But only I knew how fake my smile really was.

Still… It was all over now.

I touched the locket around my neck. Inside was a small black-and-white photo.

It was my mother's memorial portrait.

Three months ago, a video of Gary and Priscilla kissing in an underground parking garage exploded online.

It shot straight to the top of the trending lists.

My mother saw it and couldn't catch her breath.

And just like that, she was gone.

I didn't even get the chance to see her one last time.

Tears fell onto the papers as I slowly pulled out my phone and made a call to someone across the ocean.

"I got the divorce agreement. I'll pack tomorrow and leave the day after."

"Thanks again for helping with the immigration paperwork."

The words had barely left my mouth when the bedroom door suddenly swung open.

"Immigration? What immigration?" Gary walked in carrying a paper shopping bag, confusion in his voice.

My heart skipped, but I ended the call calmly. "Nothing. A friend is planning to move overseas and asked for my opinion."

Gary frowned, clearly suspicious.

He was about to ask more when he noticed the bed. Every inch of it was covered in documents.

He froze.

"Why did you take all of these out?"

He tossed the bag aside and picked up one of the papers at random.

"Fifty-eight? There are this many?"

A flicker of panic crossed his face. His eyes scanned the bed, clearly searching for the latest divorce agreement.

But I was faster. I gathered the papers into a pile and shoved them back into the locked box.

Then, I changed the subject as if nothing had happened.

"Why are you back? Weren't you supposed to be with Priscilla? Aren't you worried she'll get mad?"

In the past, the moment I mentioned Priscilla, Gary would immediately shift his attention away from me.

But today, something was different.

He tugged at his tie and spoke in a low voice, "Aren't you happy I came home?"

I froze. My body felt stiff, like a statue.

"Of course, I'm happy."

His expression softened a little.

Almost proudly, he handed me the paper bag from the floor.

Inside was a soft gray designer handbag.

"Didn't your mom always want one of these?" he said. "A friend of mine just got back from Caldrith, so I had him bring it back. Take it to your mom tomorrow."

For a moment, I didn't know if he was pretending to be innocent or deliberately trying to provoke me.

My mother died three months ago because of him.

What was this supposed to be? A burial offering?

Tears suddenly streamed down my face. I jumped off the bed, grabbed a pair of scissors, and started hacking the bag to pieces.

"What are you doing?"

Gary stared at me in shock, reaching out to stop me.

"Do you know how hard it was to get that bag? Even Priscilla asked for one, and I didn't give it to her. What the heck are you doing?"

I swung my hand and slapped him across the face. My voice broke as I shouted.

"Then give it to her! Why give it to me? Gary, you're disgusting!"

The room went silent. We both froze.

In the five years we had been married, aside from the first few fights, I had never lost control in front of him again.

Because I always remembered the night I received the 32nd agreement.

The night I lost our baby.

I stood barefoot on the cold floor, my hair a mess, completely out of my mind. I had grabbed Gary and screamed that I wanted to die with him.

He had calmly pried my fingers off him one by one. Then, he sighed and said coldly, "If I'd known you were this crazy, I wouldn't have helped you back then."

So the man who once saved me when I needed him most had long regretted it.

Tears and mucus smeared across my face. I was shaking so badly that I could barely breathe. I gripped the edge of the bed, as if I might collapse.

Gary stepped forward, trying to steady me.

But then, I caught the scent on him.

It was jasmine, Priscilla's favorite perfume.

For five years, night after night, I had fallen asleep with that smell lingering in the air. My drawer had been filled with allergy medication because of it.

Thinking about it now, I almost laughed.

I steadied myself and pushed Gary away, ignoring the complicated look in his eyes.

I didn't even bother packing. I only took the box filled with those ridiculous divorce agreements.

Step by step, I walked out of the house.

Two more days.

In two days, even if he searched every corner of this country, he still wouldn't find me.

-

At 3 a.m., I finally fell into a deep sleep in my hotel suite.

Gary didn't sleep at all that night.

When I woke up the next day, I checked my phone.

Thirty-eight missed calls.

The first one came seven minutes after I left the house.

The last one came at 6 a.m.

After washing up and grabbing some breakfast, I spent the whole day lying around in the hotel room.

It wasn't until 8 p.m. that I finally called a cab and headed home.

I had already checked Priscilla's social media.

Tonight, she and Gary were supposed to be at the movies.