1 My fiancée always had an excellent memory, almost photographic, but when I proposed, she forgot to extend her hand for the diamond ring. When we went to get our marriage license, she forgot her ID. On our wedding day, she didn't even show up. She was busy saving her childhood sweetheart's wedding in the venue next door. This scene caused my mom to have a heart attack on the spot. I begged my fiancée to come to her bedside to explain, but she gently held the hand of her childhood sweetheart's mother, called her "Mom," and then claimed I was a persistent stalker. Later, I arranged my mother's funeral alone and applied for an overseas assignment. When I got home to pack my bags, my fiancée, Scarlett, who had just returned from her honeymoon with her childhood sweetheart, Ethan, looked content and asked with a smile: "John, is your mother feeling better? We can pick another good day to have our wedding and make her happy." She didn't know that ever since my mom passed away, it was already over between us. I was folding winter clothes one by one into my suitcase. Suddenly, the front door was pushed open, and someone tiptoed in. A pair of cold hands covered my eyes from behind. "Guess who I am?" she asked playfully, intentionally lowering her voice, just like she used to tease me every time I returned from a business trip. In the past, I would have smiled and said, "Of course, my dearest darling," and then tenderly warmed her hands. But now, only cold indifference remained in my heart; I had no mood to play along. I pulled her hands away directly and continued folding clothes. Scarlett paused, her fingers tightening slightly, then she cooed, "John, what's wrong? Isn't a month of silent treatment enough? Last time you suddenly burst into the wedding, it made everyone so awkward; I had to explain for ages." I sneered. A month ago, I became the laughingstock in everyone's eyes. My bride married someone else in front of everyone. My mom had a heart attack because of it, and I was disgracefully chased out of the venue by Scarlett, like a beggar. Until the day my mother was buried, the townsfolk were still pointing fingers at me, full of sarcasm: "That's him, the guy whose wife ran off with someone on his wedding day? And he was supposed to be a straight-A student, thirty years old and can't even find a partner!" "How embarrassing. I heard his mom's passing was hastened by the stress. If I had a son like that, I'd just want to disappear!" That damp, oppressive feeling from the funeral surged back into my heart. Coming back to my senses, I calmly said: "It's not silent treatment…" We're breaking up. Before I could finish, Scarlett dragged out an "oh" sound and said with a smile, "Not silent treatment, you're just mad at me, right? Alright, didn't I send you a message explaining? Ethan's fiancée ran off, and our families are old friends; helping out wouldn't cost us a limb." She flopped onto the sofa, picked up a black and gray sweater casually, and while folding it, she frowned and muttered, "This sweater is so ugly, why don't we just throw it away!" I didn't speak, just stared at the shining diamond ring on her ring finger, realizing only then what the cold touch that had covered my eyes was. Scarlett followed my gaze, quickly pulled off the ring and stuffed it into her pocket, sticking out her tongue and laughing, "We have to play the part fully, you know; I forgot to take it off. John, you big jealous baby, aren't you mad again?" Actually, I wasn't angry at all. I just suddenly remembered that when I proposed to her, kneeling on one knee and pulling out the custom-designed diamond ring, she didn't extend her hand. She said she didn't like the feeling of being restrained by a ring and would wear it during the ring exchange at the wedding. But in the end, she first wore the ring Ethan gave her, and couldn't even bear to take it off. Angry? Never again. For the past month, I had masochistically watched news reports of Scarlett and Ethan on their honeymoon, traveling the world, and my heart had long gone numb. I looked away, not answering, just taking the sweater back from her hand and saying flatly, "This is a wool sweater my mom knitted for me herself." Scarlett's hand froze in mid-air. She looked somewhat displeased, pursed her lips, but still suppressed her anger and said gently, "Oh, by the way, how's your mom? She should be much better after a month of rest, right?" She added with a smile, "Actually, I always felt our wedding venue was too small and simple. Let's take this opportunity to pick a new date and have a luxurious wedding, that'll make your mom happy!" I knew Scarlett was in a good mood today and had given me many chances to back down. If I didn't take them, she would definitely blow up. But she forgot, on the day we were supposed to get our marriage license, she claimed she forgot her ID and went to the Registrar's Office, but then turned around and accompanied Ethan, whose fiancée had absconded, to try on wedding dresses. We never even got the license, and we didn't need any wedding. Coming back to my senses, I just gave a desolate laugh: "No need." After being cold-shouldered by me several times, Scarlett's face immediately darkened. She was about to speak when her phone suddenly rang. Seeing Ethan's name on the screen, her brows relaxed, and she said sweetly, "I just got home, why are you calling?" I don't know what was said on the other end, but she cradled the phone between her neck and shoulder, picked up the camel wool coat from the coat rack, and laughed, "Ethan, you're annoying! Your girlfriend's still trying to soothe her boyfriend! This is the last time, alright!" I watched her skillfully put the ring back on, checked her makeup and the hem of her coat in the full-length mirror, and picked up her bag, ready to leave. When her hand was on the doorknob, she seemed to remember my existence. So she hastily turned back, stood on tiptoe, ruffled my hair, and said in a clingy voice, "Alright, John, stop sulking. I bought you a little gift; I'll bring it to you tonight." I watched her leave, then turned to the floor-to-ceiling window. Through the glass, I saw a bright yellow sports car parked downstairs, its chassis so low it looked like it was hugging the ground. Ethan was leaning against the car door, a lit cigarette flickering between his fingers. And Scarlett, who was always a clean freak, skillfully took the cigarette from Ethan's hand, bit the filter, and turned to sit in the passenger seat. I looked away, pulling the curtains shut. Turning, I picked up the overseas assignment application form on my desk, which I had already filled out. 2 Fingering the sharp edge of the application form, I left the house without hesitation and hailed a cab to the company. After a day of packing, it was already evening. I had applied for the overseas assignment in the system two days ago, and it had been approved; now I just needed to submit the paper information for filing. At the company, everyone looked at me and whispered. "Isn't that the guy from the video who caused a scene at CEO Ma's wedding? Oh, wasn't he on bereavement leave a while ago? How dare he show up again?" "I bet he's here to resign. He's been working for the company for ten years, and he's still just a team leader. They say he's applied for promotion five times and never got approved. What a loser." These harsh comments, which once made me feel depressed, now left me unfazed. After all, during the time I was arranging my mother's funeral, I had heard too many similar taunts. I walked straight ahead, knocked on my superior, Mr. Davis's office door. "Come in." Mr. Davis looked at the form in my hand, nodded, and said with satisfaction, "John, I didn't believe you the other day when you said you wanted to go overseas. Before, when I suggested it, you said you wanted to stay with your girlfriend and didn't want a long-distance relationship. This time you're quite decisive." "Tomorrow, people from headquarters will come to inspect the overseas assignment situation. You just need to show up at the company again tomorrow, and then you can leave." "Speaking of which, we were interns at the same time. You were more capable than me and helped me a lot. Now you've finally come to your senses... That's good." I lowered my gaze. Yes, perhaps it was bad luck; all my fellow interns became executives, while I remained stagnant. Walking out of the company, I looked back at the skyscraper I had worked in for ten years. For these ten years, Scarlett's family company grew stronger and stronger, even their branch office building reached new heights. But why did my relationship with Scarlett collapse so spectacularly? My meeting with Scarlett was a classic rich girl meets poor student story. My father passed away early, and my mother raised me alone. At that time, besides classes, I practically squeezed out every minute to work part-time, helping people with tutoring. Until a thug not only owed me tutoring fees but also brought his buddies, wanting me to hand over all my money. I was full of despair; it was Scarlett who came with bodyguards and saved me, pulled me up from the ground, and even offered to treat me to dinner. She said her grades weren't good, and she was afraid of failing, so she asked me to help her cram for finals. Actually, I knew her grades were excellent; this was just her way of helping me. I was attracted by her kindness and outgoing personality, and we gradually got together. On the day I confessed my feelings, she held my hand and declared to everyone on campus: "This is my smart, handsome boyfriend!" When I graduated, I gave up a government-sponsored overseas scholarship. When I started working, I gave up a high-paying executive job at a major international company. I just wanted to stay with Scarlett, hoping simply to marry her, have children, and grow old together. Everything changed a year ago, on the day Scarlett's childhood sweetheart, Ethan, returned from overseas. That day, Scarlett left me, sick, for the first time, just to pick up Ethan at the airport. That night, she got completely drunk at the welcome party, lay in Ethan's arms, whining that she wouldn't come back with me, crying and asking, "Ethan, why did you take so long to come back!" From then on, I constantly argued with her because of Ethan. I wanted her to have boundaries, but she accused me of being too controlling, not allowing her to have any friends. She even said sarcastically that, considering Ethan and she had known each other since childhood, I was the latecomer. Until two months ago, on the day Ethan sent her a wedding invitation, she, who had refused my 99 marriage proposals, suddenly leaned into my arms and muttered, "John, maybe we should get married too?" Shaking my head, I shook off the memories, my silhouette stretched long in the setting sun, a solitary figure. In this world, I no longer had any family. After a few steps, the sky turned completely dark. I was just about to pull out my phone to call a cab home. Then, I heard a familiar laugh nearby, speaking intimately: "Ethan, put me down quickly, if you drop me, you're dead!" Turning my head, I saw the entrance of a bustling bar, bathed in neon lights. Ethan was carrying Scarlett in a princess carry and spinning her around. Scarlett's long arms were tightly wrapped around Ethan, laughing heartily. A crowd had gathered around them, egging them on. "Alright, three more rounds! Go, Ethan, don't forget to drink an interlocked arms toast with your wife when you stop!" "That's some serious boyfriend strength! No wonder Princess Scarlett can't forget our Prince Ethan!" After Ethan stopped, Scarlett, a bit dizzy, jumped down and then, with Ethan, skillfully took the wine glasses handed to them by the people nearby and drank a toast with interlocked arms. Instantly, the cheering around them grew louder, clapping and shouting: "Kiss! Kiss!" Scarlett seemed a bit dazed and didn't move. Ethan laughed, defending Scarlett: "Alright, you guys. You just got back from your honeymoon and you're already trying to make up for some post-wedding shenanigans. My wife has been playing along all day, from noon to afternoon; it's time for everyone to go home!" But the next second, Scarlett grabbed Ethan's tie, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him directly. Her eyes were open, her gaze clear and tender. The next second, she looked away, slowly released Ethan's tie, and covered her head, pretending to be drunk: "I want to go home... My head hurts so bad..." I took in Scarlett's attentiveness, her careful love for Ethan. And I watched as she shakily pulled out her phone and made a call. Then, my phone rang. From several meters away. Scarlett heard the ringtone and, the moment our eyes met, she straightened up. 3 Everyone looked at us, bewildered, as we stared at each other, and asked Scarlett, "Scarlett, who is this?" Scarlett's eyes flickered, and she mumbled, "He's our family driver. My mom asked me to go home for dinner with her today." Ethan's eyes were full of triumph; he deliberately enunciated each word: "Oh, so he's the driver. Well, you'd better take good care of your young lady." If it were the old me, I would have grabbed Ethan by the collar and started a fight. Now, I just felt bored; I didn't even spare a glance, turning to get into the ride-share I had called earlier. Back home, I hadn't eaten all afternoon, and my stomach was cramping, so I cooked myself some plain noodles. I had barely taken two bites when I heard the click-clack of high heels outside. The next second, Scarlett kicked the door open. Seeing me eating, she flew into a rage, turning and hitting my back with her purse: "John, why did you just turn and leave earlier? Do you have any idea how much face that made me lose!" What surprised me even more was that Ethan had followed her. He put a concerned arm around Scarlett's shoulder from behind, saying gently, "Scarlett, how can you hit John? Didn't I say we should talk nicely?" He turned to me with a smile, masking the triumph in his eyes. "John, please don't get angry. I just followed along to explain because I was afraid you two would argue, but you also have a point. Scarlett's a girl; how could you leave her alone on the street?" Another chopstickful of noodles went into my mouth; I answered Scarlett without lifting my head: "Scarlett, with your husband Ethan there, what are you afraid of?" Scarlett's face turned ashen; she was so angry her chest heaved continuously: "What husband? John, you need to have a limit to your jealousy, alright? Those are just some acquaintances in our circle, and Ethan and I were just putting on a show! Do you think I like drinking? I did it all for you!" I found it absurd. She was clearly enjoying being lovey-dovey with Ethan, and now she's acting all aggrieved? Looking at Scarlett, I put down my chopsticks and countered, "For me?" Scarlett said matter-of-factly: "For you! Ethan's family and mine are merging, and my mom only agreed to give me the heir position if I married him! Only then can I be with you, and only then can I transfer you to headquarters as a VP. Isn't all of this for you and your career!" Ethan subtly frowned, a hint of malice flashing in his eyes, but he superficially agreed: "Scarlett's right, you don't know this, do you? To protect you, she deliberately rejected all your promotion applications over the years. She put so much thought into you!" I froze. Suddenly, a chill ran down to the top of my head. So all the cold treatment I received over the years was orchestrated by Scarlett herself. Then what were all those late nights working overtime on proposals, the contracts I signed only after drinking until my stomach bled, the lack of holidays that meant I rarely saw my mother? What did all that count for? I asked Scarlett, "Is that true?" Scarlett didn't feel guilty at all; instead, she nodded as if seeking praise: "Yes, not only to protect you, but also to temper your will, so you can take on great responsibilities! It's just a little salary; now that you're my husband, you'll have everything you want in the future." I found it ridiculous. Scarlett always insisted on not making our relationship public. Even for our wedding, she only wanted me to invite my closest relatives and friends, not to make a big deal of it. Practically no one knew about our relationship; her so-called 'protection' of me was just an empty excuse. Everything was just to satisfy her controlling desire to belittle and suppress me, making me revolve around her. Now I realized that what I once believed to be sweetness and sincerity was never pure. I shook my head, finally speaking the words in my heart: "Scarlett, let's break up!" Scarlett's eyes widened; she looked at me in disbelief. Her lips trembled; she couldn't even utter a single word. A gleam of joy flashed in Ethan's eyes, and he quickly reprimanded, "John, you can't break up with Scarlett just because she's close with me! Scarlett really loves you; when she was on her honeymoon, the first thing she thought about when she saw unique souvenirs was sending them to you!" With someone backing her up, Scarlett regained her composure and became even angrier, putting her hands on her hips and scoffing, "John, are you getting more and more carried away? Do you think you have me wrapped around your finger? Break up? Do you even have the right to break up with me? For the past ten years, you've eaten my food, used my things, I found you your job, what more do you want?" She spoke in a long, unbroken stream, as if she had prepared it in advance. So she was so dissatisfied with me, thinking she was the one who paid the most. If it were the old me, I might have argued with her, debating who had sacrificed more. But now, looking at her in a rage. I suddenly laughed. "Thank you." Instantly, Scarlett's anger subsided a lot; she looked confused: "Thank you for what?" My lips were still curled upwards as I calmly said, "Thank you for letting me know that in your heart, I'm just a useless leech." After speaking, I took the finished dishes and chopsticks into the kitchen, turned on the faucet, and washed them clean. When I came out again, Scarlett was still standing there, motionless. Ethan handed her a glass of honey water, whispering, "Scarlett, drink some honey water to sober up, you used to love it." For the first time, Scarlett placed the glass absentmindedly on the table. Her face flushed; after a long moment, she softly said to me, "I didn't mean that..." I ignored her, turned around, picked up my already packed suitcase, and walked out. As I walked out the door, behind me, a glass was violently smashed against the doorframe, breaking into pieces. Sticky honey water splattered all over me. Then, another box was thrown to the ground. Inside, two clay rings spilled out. 4 I looked at the clay rings at my feet, a bit puzzled. Behind me, Scarlett shrieked, full of grievance: "These are the rings I specifically made for you overseas! I was always thinking of you, John! Why are you so inconsiderate, running away from home!" I only found it laughable. I don't know what she was thinking. The initials of Scarlett and Ethan were engraved on the inside of the rings, clearly their couple's rings. Yet she had the nerve to say they were specially made for me. My steps no longer faltered; I pulled my suitcase and found a random hotel to rest for the night. Anyway, I was leaving this city tomorrow. The next morning, I finished washing up and went to the company. But I didn't expect to hear a chorus of praise as soon as I entered the company. "Wow, CEO Scarlett and CEO Ethan, you two are so perfect together! And you're even wearing matching outfits, you guys are couple goals!" "CEO Scarlett, CEO Ethan, I'm also a fan of your ship! Can you let me take a picture?" I saw Scarlett and Ethan standing hand-in-hand in the center of the company, accepting everyone's adoration, while Mr. Davis was bowing and smiling apologetically. Turns out they were the so-called "headquarters people." Seeing me, Mr. Davis introduced, "John, these are CEO Scarlett and VP Ethan from headquarters. They're here to check on the overseas assignment situation." Scarlett deliberately turned her head away from me, her previously upturned lips flattening, and she just asked coldly, "Who are the people going on overseas assignment this time?" Mr. Davis found my name and two others, and smiled, "These three." Instantly, Scarlett's expression froze, her eyes clouded with dark emotions. Ethan immediately jumped in, his face filled with shock, and he reprimanded, "How are you conducting your work? Don't you know our company strictly prohibits married employees from overseas assignments! Both the applicant and the approver will be penalized!" Mr. Davis looked bewildered and blurted out, "There are no married people here." Scarlett's delicate brows furrowed slightly; she pointed at me, her red lips curving into a cold sneer: "Didn't this person take marriage leave a while ago?" Mr. Davis honestly replied, "He initially took marriage leave, but I guess he applied for the wrong one. It was later changed to bereavement leave; his mother passed away." Upon hearing this, Scarlett's face instantly turned pale, her outstretched finger stiff, looking at me in disbelief. As if realizing something, her eyes flickered, and she quietly asked, "Why didn't you tell me... about your mother's passing..." I found it ridiculous. My mother had always cherished Scarlett as a daughter-in-law, saying I was incredibly lucky to marry her, and always looked forward to the day Scarlett would call her "Mom." But what my mother received was Scarlett marrying someone else and affectionately calling their mother "Mom." I said calmly, "No need, Ms. Ma. Does headquarters even manage the personal affairs of regular employees?" Scarlett felt something gradually slipping out of control; she gritted her teeth, and her anger flared up: "How is it unnecessary! I'm still her daughter-in-law, after all!" "Whose daughter-in-law are you?" While everyone looked astonished, the company's main door was pushed open. An elderly woman walked in, the fine lines around her eyes revealing a sharp demeanor. Scarlett's mother, Ms. Henderson, the chairwoman of Henderson Corp. Everyone reacted, collectively calling out: "Good morning, Chairwoman Henderson!" Chairwoman Henderson nodded; she turned her head and asked Ethan with a smile, "Ethan, I asked you two young spouses to show your faces at the branch offices, but it seems you've run into some trouble?" Remembering Scarlett's earlier statement, everyone present remained silent, not daring to breathe. Ethan's face turned green, then white, then he forced a smile: "Scarlett's best friend is John's wife, and now that John is going overseas, Scarlett just wants to stand up for her friend." Hearing this, Scarlett bit her lip and remained silent, her head bowed in conflicted thought. Chairwoman Henderson's brows deepened further; she said sternly, "Is someone daring to violate company policy? I want to see who's so bold!" I spoke calmly, "Chairwoman Henderson, they've misunderstood. I'm not married, and my ex-girlfriend and I broke up peacefully a long time ago." Chairwoman Henderson raised an eyebrow slightly, looked me up and down, then asked Scarlett, "I've seen John's file; he is indeed unmarried. Are you mistaken? He needs to catch his flight today; don't delay him." "Catch his flight?" Scarlett's pupils suddenly contracted. Turning, she saw my calm expression, and Scarlett's heart skipped a beat. She suddenly showed a panicked expression and blurted out, "Mom! It's not a best friend, it's me! I'm John's wife! How could I be mistaken? The marriage license date was November 3rd; he must be lying! I personally got the license with him that day!" Everyone present swallowed hard, never expecting to witness such a scene of family drama. Scarlett's expression relaxed a little, thinking this would stop me from going overseas. But Chairwoman Henderson's brows deepened further; she looked between me and Scarlett, and after a moment, made her judgment: "What nonsense are you talking about? Even if he's your ex-boyfriend, your ID has always been safely locked away with me. What would you have used to get a marriage license with him?"
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