After Years, We Forget Each Other

I stepped out of the company building into the biting cold, the wind cutting through my coat like shards of glass.

Five hours. I waited under the flickering streetlights, frozen in place until the last office light dimmed.

Finally, Tristan emerged. The moment his gaze landed on me, he whispered something to Zara, who stood beside him, then turned and walked toward me.

My heart twisted painfully as he wrapped me in a warm embrace. “When did you get here? Why didn’t you come inside?”

“I’m fine,” I forced a smile. “I just wanted to bring you dinner, but your secretary said you’d already eaten.”

His brow furrowed in gentle concern. “You’re not well—don’t do that again. I’d feel awful if you wore yourself out.”

He pulled a small bottle from his pocket. “By the way, Marco dropped off your medicine. You’re almost out, right?”

I took the pills wordlessly, slipping them into my bag. Winter’s embrace was still warm, but his touch had turned cold.

When we arrived home, Tristan wasted no time pulling me down onto the couch. His hands moved with urgency, his lips hovering over my neck. I placed a firm hand against his chest, stopping him.

A flicker of irritation crossed his face, but he forced a smile. “What’s wrong? Haven’t you always wanted a child?”

“I’m not feeling well today. Maybe next time.”

His desire evaporated instantly. Without a word, he stood and disappeared into the bathroom to shower.

Moments later, his phone buzzed on the table. Zara’s syrupy voice filled the room, each word grating on my nerves. I unlocked his phone effortlessly using her birthday as the passcode.

The screen sprang to life, revealing only one social app. Inside, there was a single contact labeled Hot Kitten.

Her profile picture was of Zara dressed provocatively as a cat girl. I scrolled through their messages, my stomach twisting with nausea. The chat history was filled with flirtatious exchanges that pierced through me like knives.

[Mr. Muller, rooftop date?]

[Goblin, wait for me.]

[Mr. Muller, how about tonight in the car? It’s parked right under your house. I’ve never tried it before.]

[Not afraid of getting caught? Guess I’ll have to risk it for the princess.]

[Mr. Muller, I really want to be part of that new foreign project…]

[No problem. Impress me tonight and it’s yours.]

I clenched my jaw and opened the company's project records. Every major deal from the past five years had Zara’s name attached to it.

To appease her, he’d handpicked a popular celebrity as the project spokesperson. The final payment date? Her birthday.

There were countless auction receipts for luxury jewelry, all gifted to her under the guise of company prizes.

Tristan’s so-called hidden love wasn’t hidden at all. It was blatant, etched into every detail of his life. The brands of jewelry he’d bought for Zara were ones I recognized—the same ones he claimed were gifts for me.

I had believed him, thinking they were rewards from auction sponsors. My frugality, my loyalty, my sacrifices—everything had become weapons he used to wound me.

I laughed bitterly, the sound hollow and cold. I didn’t need to read any further. Instead, I contacted a lawyer online to discuss the terms of our divorce. What was mine would remain mine. No one would take it from me.

The night passed without sleep. At dawn, I got up and washed, ready to face the day. My phone rang just as I stepped out of the bathroom. Tristan’s voice was tinged with confusion.

“Linda, what did you book?”

I moved the phone away from my ear, keeping my tone indifferent. “Nothing, just a beauty appointment. Didn’t you say I should dress up more?”

He chuckled, seemingly pleased by my answer.

“There’s a meeting at the company today. I better get going,” I added.

He pulled me into his arms, nuzzling against my neck. “My wife is the most beautiful woman in the world, even without trying. Marrying you was the best decision I ever made.”

I smiled faintly but said nothing. Some lies no longer hurt—because I had already decided to leave.