Chapter 3

3.

Janelle didn't return until the next morning.

She held out a paper bag with breakfast.

"I got this specially for you. Eat before you head to work. You know your stomach acts up when you skip breakfast."

Hearing her act as if nothing had happened made me feel as if the last two days were just a bad dream.

As soon as I opened the bag, she added casually, "The firm is sending me on a three-day business trip. Remember to eat properly while I'm away."

At the exact same moment, my phone pinged with a notification.

While Janelle went into the bedroom to pack, I unlocked my phone.

It was a screenshot sent by the salesman―a luxury suite reservation at a romantic boutique hotel.

So, her so-called business trip was just an anniversary getaway with another man.

I saved the screenshot to the cloud and tossed the warm breakfast straight into the trash can.

When Janelle rolled her suitcase into the living room, she was surprised to see me still sitting there. "Why haven't you left for campus?"

"No morning classes today," I replied smoothly.

Janelle used to know my lecture schedule by heart and knew I never rearranged classes without a serious reason.

In the past, she would have grilled me out of concern.

Now, she merely nodded. "Alright. Rest up at home. I'm heading out."

The moment the front door clicked shut, I grabbed my coat and headed to a law firm downtown.

After finalizing the divorce strategy with the attorney, I went back to campus to finish transferring my responsibilities.

When my department colleagues heard I was leaving, they insisted on taking me out for a farewell dinner that night.

I agreed without hesitation.

In the past, I had always rushed home to care for Janelle and rarely attended social gatherings.

I had never competed for promotions or grants either.

My friends used to tease me for having no professional ambition, claiming my entire universe revolved around Janelle.

Back then, I would always laugh proudly and say, "She's the love of my life. Of course she comes first."

How proud I sounded back then, and how humiliated I felt right now.

That night, I drank heavily with my colleagues until the early hours of the morning.

Stumbling home with a buzzing head, I dialed Janelle's number.

No answer.

In the old days, we would keep a voice call running all night long, even if we were just doing our own chores in silence.

Yet today, from the moment she walked out the door, she hadn't sent a single text.

I lay on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as hot tears rolled down into my hair.

To say I wasn't devastated would be a lie.

For the past two days, I had been desperately holding my crumbling composure together, pretending everything was fine.

The next morning, I spent the day packing away everything that belonged to me.

Looking at the dust-covered matching couple mugs and trinkets, a bitter laugh escaped my lips.

When we first got married, we loved buying matching pairs of everything.

Now, I shoved every single reminder into heavy black garbage bags and tossed them into the dumpster downstairs.

Just then, the salesman sent me a live location pin.

I stared at the screen, took the freshly printed divorce petition, and stepped out into the afternoon light.

When I arrived at the grand ballroom of the hotel on the map, I was greeted by an elaborate wedding setup.

My stomach dropped, a sickening suspicion gnawing at my gut.

I tried to tell myself Janelle couldn't possibly be this cruel.

Yet the knot in my chest tightened with every step.

I stood silently in the shadowed corner of the banquet hall.

As several of Janelle's close friends trickled in, my worst fear hardened into reality.

Suddenly, the hall lights dimmed, and the massive LED screens began playing romantic wedding photos of Janelle and the young salesman.

The title slide glowed boldly: "Welcome to the Wedding of Janelle Vance and Skyler Reed."

Any lingering sliver of hope dissolved instantly, replaced by a surge of icy, uncontainable fury.

When we signed our marriage license six years ago, I had begged for a small, intimate ceremony with our families.

Janelle had rejected the idea outright, saying weddings were too tedious and unnecessary.

Looking at the extravagant, lavish decor around me, the coldness in my veins turned to frost.

The ceremony began shortly after.

There weren't many guests, mostly their close circle of accomplices and friends.

Step by step, the ritual unfolded.

I stood there, watching my wife of six years in a flowing white gown, holding another man's arm with a radiant, blissful smile.

When Janelle gazed lovingly into Skyler's eyes and whispered, "I do," a sneer of utter disgust curled my lips.

Clutching the divorce papers in my white-knuckled grip, I walked steadily toward the center stage.

My sudden entrance caused a loud murmur to ripple through the room.

The commotion made Janelle turn around, having just finished her kiss with Skyler.

The moment her eyes landed on me, the bliss on her face curdled into pure, unadulterated terror.

She pulled her hands away from Skyler like she had touched a hot iron, her eyes wide with shock.

"Honey... what are you doing here?"

I tilted my head, offering a mocking smile.

"I came to attend your wedding, of course."

Janelle rushed forward, grabbing my sleeve in desperation. "We were just playing around! It's not real! Honey, please don't misunderstand!"

Behind her, Skyler glared at me with sullen, venomous eyes.

I violently shoved her hands off my arm and said coldly, "Your groom is standing right over there. Keep your hands to yourself."

"No! You and I are legally married! I just felt sorry for him, that's why I agreed to this farce!"

I hadn't expected her to spin such shameless excuses even at a moment like this.

I had zero interest in listening to another word. I slapped the thick divorce agreement straight against her chest.

"Janelle, we're through. Sign the papers."

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