Chapter 3

3

When I woke up the next morning, Zachary was already gone.

He clearly treated my mention of divorce as an emotional outburst, refusing to take it seriously.

He had left a note on the kitchen counter:

"Something came up at the studio. I'll explain everything tonight. Don't ever bring up divorce again. You know how much I hate being threatened."

The sharp, elegant handwriting practically radiated his arrogant confidence.

Zachary never allowed anyone to push him around, but there had always been one exception.

Back in college, he was the golden-boy campus heartthrob.

I was just the plain, quiet girl blending into the background of his admirers.

Back then, Gigi had flirted openly with guys from other schools.

She even made out with a stranger during a drunken dare in a private karaoke lounge.

When Zachary found out, they had a massive blowout.

Gigi didn't care in the slightest, brushing it off as just a party game.

"If you can't handle it, then let's break up," she had said coldly.

The proud, untouchable Zachary had dropped to his knees, begging her not to leave.

He compromised again and again, only for Gigi to abruptly dump him and fly overseas without a single goodbye.

After she vanished, I spent two long years pulling Zachary out of his dark depression.

I gently, patiently stitched his shattered heart back together.

I used to believe that time was the ultimate cure.

I thought that if I stayed by his side long enough, he would finally let her go.

Then, six years into our marriage, I accidentally stumbled across his secret burner account on Instagram.

Thousands of posts, every single one filled with his endless longing for Gigi.

Even on the day of our wedding, he had secretly snapped a photo and posted it with a caption:

"You should have been the one in the white dress today. If there is a next life, can I be your groom instead?"

Six years of my love hadn't erased the woman who tore him apart.

Back then, I didn't dare confront him, terrified of blowing up our fragile life together.

A chime from my phone pulled me out of my memories.

A notification popped up showing a new post from Zachary's official brand account.

Along with several jewelry sketches, the final photo was a mirror selfie in front of a boutique display.

Reflected in the glass behind him was Gigi's silhouette.

She was wearing a matching designer trench coat, the giant blue diamond glittering brightly on her finger.

Years apart, and they were already playing the part of soulmates reunited.

My thumb hovered over the message box, wanting to scream at him for his shameless betrayal.

Yet as the anger settled, a strange wave of numbness washed over me.

I didn't care anymore.

I tapped the screen, liked the post, and left a public comment:

"You two look great together."

Less than two minutes later, Zachary's call blew up my screen.

I answered calmly, only to be met with his furious shouting on the other end.

"Delete that comment right now! People are going to get the wrong idea!"

He panted into the mic. "We're just modeling samples for her fashion line to help with promotion. Can you stop being so delusional?"

Before I could speak, Gigi's sweet, teasing voice drifted through the receiver.

"Zach, remember how we never got around to wearing couple outfits back in college?"

She giggled softly. "Don't you think we look incredibly good together in this set?"

There was a sudden pause on the line as Gigi realized the call was active.

"Is that your wife?" she asked innocently.

"Yeah," Zachary muttered.