The day before New Year's Eve, Arthur Sterling walked downstairs fully dressed. I was putting up festive window decals. He walked over to me. "I won't be home for the holidays. Will you be okay by yourself?" Before I could even ask why. He said, "She's pregnant. The baby is mine. I need to be with her." My hand trembled, and the red paper fluttered softly to the floor. "Why are you only telling me this now?" Watching him stand there in silence, I knew our marriage was over. I forced the words out: "Arthur... let's get a divorce." "Chloe, have I not treated you well? Why do you want a divorce?" 1 Even someone with the best temper and the most rational mind would break down upon hearing those words. I grabbed the heavy glass ashtray from the coffee table and hurled it at him. "Why?!" "Why?!" "Arthur Sterling, you're sleeping with another woman, and you have the nerve to ask me why?!" "Don't you realize how absurd you sound?!" Arthur didn't dodge. Glass shattered everywhere, and a bruise instantly formed on his forehead. Still furious, I threw books, magazines... everything on the table at him. Arthur didn't even flinch. He stood there, rigid and unmoving. Finally, I grabbed my favorite vase and smashed it. It held the flowers I had just picked from the garden that morning. Arthur had always been a cold, distant person. Before we got married, his apartment was decorated in sterile, cold tones. There was absolutely no warmth or life in it. Every week, I would buy fresh flowers to decorate our home, just to make it feel a little warmer. After we got married, I meticulously worked with designers to decorate this entire mansion. I handpicked every single piece of furniture and decor. This used to be the warmest place in the world. Our home. And now, it was a disaster zone, destroyed by my own hands. Arthur watched me quietly. His eyes held a strange, almost clinical detachment, like he was observing a madwoman. When I was finally too exhausted to throw anything else, I covered my face, crouched on the floor, and sobbed uncontrollably. Arthur walked over and stood in front of me. After a long time, he picked me up off the floor, cleared a spot on the sofa, and set me down. He crouched in front of me, a flicker of what looked like heartbreak in his eyes, and used his thumb to wipe the tears from the corners of my eyes. "Chloe, don't do this... it breaks my heart." 2 I saw my reflection in his eyes. Tear-streaked, blurry, and utterly pathetic. I froze for a second. How did it come to this? I wiped my cheeks, trying to compose myself. "Do you remember what you promised me?" "You said we would be together forever. That we would never leave each other, and grow old together." But Arthur, we've only been married for three years, and you've already betrayed me. You betrayed our marriage. "How long have you been together?" Arthur quickly looked away, unable to meet my eyes. "Almost a year." A year? They had known each other for that long? I dug my nails into my palms and offered a bitter smile. "Why tell me now? Why not just keep hiding it?" Arthur sat next to me in silence. He pulled out a lighter and lit a cigarette. The smoke blurred his sharp features. "I didn't want to lie to you anymore." I didn't want to lie to you anymore. What a grand, hypocritical excuse. If he didn't love me anymore, he could have just told me. We could have gotten a divorce. I'm not the type to cling to a dead relationship. But he chose to cheat on me while we were still married. "She's in her early twenties. Young, cute. She's not like you. When I buy her things or give her money, she doesn't refuse. She's clingy, and she loves to act spoiled." As he spoke, a light seemed to spark in his eyes, only to dim when he looked back at me. "But Chloe, you don't do any of those things. You make me feel so... detached." "I'm your husband. I'm supposed to be the closest person to you in the world." But Arthur, this is just who I am. I've always been independent and a bit aloof. My upbringing and my family dynamic forced me to be this way. I don't know how to act spoiled, and I hate being a burden to anyone. Even with the people I'm closest to, I always try to keep things perfectly balanced. I had been trying so hard to change. To learn how to rely on him. But when I actually needed him... when I got into that car crash and called him from a hospital bed... Where was he? "Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, we have sweet and sour ribs. Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, it's tomato and egg stir-fry. Honestly, I'm sick of it. I'm so tired of this monotonous, lukewarm life." I didn't understand. The table was always full of food. Those were the only two dishes I actually liked. Everything else was cooked specifically for him. Why was he fixating on those two dishes? "Chloe, you're like a bowl of plain porridge. Tasteless, but a shame to throw away. But she's different. She's like a piece of candy. I willingly let myself drown in her sweetness." A smile touched Arthur's lips. It was indulgent, and it was sweet. "She's so bold. She dragged me to an amusement park and immediately wanted to go into the haunted house. She stood there, hands on her hips, swearing she wasn't scared. But once we were inside, she got so terrified she jumped into my arms and begged me to hold her." "Her heart was beating so fast that day. Thump, thump, thump. She threw her arms around my neck, her face bright red, and kissed me. I should have pushed her away, but I didn't..." "Stop it!" The pain was so intense I felt numb. I was completely breaking down. "Chloe..." "Arthur, I'm begging you. Please. Stop talking." 3 The living room fell into a deathly silence. Arthur's phone rang. He pulled it out, glanced at me, and answered it right in front of me without the slightest hesitation. A sweet, whiny female voice came through the speaker. "I'm hungry! When are you coming back?" "You're hungry?" When Arthur looked over at me, I immediately stood up and started frantically searching the room. "Yeah! The baby and I are both starving!" "Wait for me. I'll come feed you both." My entire body was trembling with cold. I pressed my hands hard against my temples. What... what am I looking for? My phone. Yes, my phone. What if I miss an important work email? What if I miss an important call? "Be a good girl. I'll be there soon." "I love you, hubby! Mwah~" I tried desperately to block out the sounds around me. I wished I was deaf. But I wasn't. Arthur's relaxed, cheerful voice crashed into my ears like a tidal wave. It wasn't until my nails drew blood from my palms that I finally managed to calm down a fraction. Arthur had ended the call at some point and walked up behind me. "She's waiting for me. I need to go." "I'll explain everything to my mom. If you don't want to go to the main estate tomorrow, just stay here." He paused, then added, "Do you want me to call the housekeeper back to keep you company for the holidays?" "Actually, that's probably not a good idea. Tomorrow is New Year's Eve. Everyone wants to be with their family." Arthur just kept talking. So he knew. He knew tomorrow was New Year's Eve. He knew the holidays were meant for family. So what was I? Was I just a complete stranger to him now? I grabbed the kettle and poured myself a glass of hot water. The warm liquid slid down my throat, chasing away half the freezing chill in my body. "Arthur, we're getting a divorce." By the front door, Arthur paused while putting on his shoes. "I promised I would treat you well for the rest of our lives, Chloe. If you want, you can always be Mrs. Sterling. Everything can stay exactly the way it was." "And what about her?" "I'll buy a villa and set her up outside. I won't let her bother you." 4 Arthur left. The only thing left in the trashed living room was me, entirely alone. Before he left, Arthur had walked over and wiped my tears. And with the very same lips that had kissed me thousands of times, he delivered the most cutting blow. "Chloe, be a good girl and behave. She won't fight you for anything." Numbly, I walked up the stairs and back to the bedroom. I stared at our wedding photo on the wall. The girl in the photo was smiling so brightly. She looked so happy. I turned and walked into the bathroom to wash my face. The woman in the mirror looked awful. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face stained with tears. I slowly raised my hand. Chloe Vance, you shouldn't look like this. The cold water splashed against my face. I told myself I shouldn't be sad. But after so many years together, how could I not be sad? I collapsed onto the bed, desperately wishing the last hour had been nothing but a nightmare. That I would just wake up. But the memories replayed in my mind, screaming that it was all real. My phone vibrated. It was Arthur's mother. I didn't answer. I just stared blankly at my laptop screen. A few minutes later, she called again. After a moment's hesitation, I picked up. "Chloe, it's New Year's Eve. Make sure you and Arthur come over early tonight." I gripped my phone, unsure of what to say. "Chloe?" "Did Arthur... did he not talk to you guys?" "What's wrong? Did you two have a fight? That brat isn't answering his phone." "It's nothing." "As long as everything is okay. Just remember to come over early with Arthur." 5 Some things are better said in person rather than over the phone. But before heading to the Sterling estate, I needed to make a stop at a print shop. The normally bustling streets were completely deserted because of the holidays. I checked several shops, but they were all closed. The biting winter wind whipped against me, and I pulled my coat tighter around myself. Just as I thought I wouldn't be able to print the documents, I spotted a small shop still open. Suddenly, I thought, Maybe my luck isn't completely terrible after all. The owner asked what I needed printed and if I required any help. I smiled politely and said no. She looked a bit surprised. She was probably wondering who prints divorce papers on New Year's Eve. She quickly bound the documents and handed them to me. "Happy New Year," she said. My hand froze as I paid her. She was the very first person to wish me a Happy New Year today. Not my family. Not even Arthur. My eyes suddenly burned, and I replied, "Happy New Year!" Stepping out of the shop, I tilted my head back and let out a long breath. I put the documents in my bag and called Arthur. "Are you going to the estate?" "He's in the shower. It's not a good time for him to take a call. Do you need something, Ms. Vance? I can pass a message." It wasn't Arthur who answered. It was his little mistress. Her tone was dripping with pure provocation. "Please tell Arthur that his mother wants him home."
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