After Years, We Forget Each Other

Zara winked playfully at me after delivering her smug little performance. The room fell silent. An awkward pause lingered in the air as employees hesitated with their glasses raised halfway—unsure whether to drink or toast. Ignoring their curious stares, I nodded calmly and took my seat, unfazed by the horrified expressions around me.

Zara’s lips curved into a smile as she gracefully lifted her wine glass and sauntered toward me.

“Mrs. Linda,” she said sweetly, “you truly amaze me. Balancing work and family must be exhausting. But remember—a woman should always take care of herself. Even as she ages, dressing beautifully never goes out of style.”

Her gaze flicked pointedly to my casual outfit, the meaning behind her words as sharp as a blade.

Feigning indifference, I replied coolly, “I don’t drink wine. Tea will do.”

The corner of Tristan’s mouth twitched with irritation. “You’re not drinking wine?” he asked incredulously. “Are you kidding, Linda? This is your idea of not being upset? Stop fooling around.”

Zara ignored my refusal and filled the empty glass in front of me without missing a beat.

“Here,” she insisted, offering the glass once again.

Suppressing the anger rising in my chest, I kept my voice steady but icy.

“I told you—I can’t drink today. I’ve been on medication.”

Zara shot a glance at Tristan, who frowned deeply but said nothing. With a forced smile plastered on her face, she stubbornly shoved the glass into my hand. The wine splashed over the rim, staining her dress as I casually pushed it away. The delicate fabric clung to her chest, darkened by the crimson liquid.

A sharp crack echoed through the room as the glass shattered at her feet, cutting a jagged line across her skin. Blood beaded along the wound, bright against the pale floor. The booth plunged into silence. Tristan shot to his feet, fury etched into every line of his face. His chopsticks clattered heavily onto the table.

“Linda,” he snarled, his voice thick with anger. “Have I given you enough face? How much longer are you going to cause a scene?”

He gestured toward Zara, whose eyes glistened with well-timed tears. “She’s already made amends and toasted you. Show some respect!”

I couldn’t help the cold smile that tugged at the corner of my lips. “Made amends?” I asked with mock curiosity. “A toast? Which part of that was supposed to be an apology? Is there something wrong with my ears, or is it your brain that’s malfunctioning?”

His face darkened further, his temper teetering on the edge. “You can’t understand human language, can you?” he spat venomously. “Fine—I’ll personally toast you!”

Before anyone could react, he grabbed the back of my neck, forcing my head to tilt backward. The pungent scent of alcohol filled my senses as he poured white wine directly into my mouth.

I choked, coughing violently as the burning liquid seared my throat. Tears stung my eyes, blurring my vision.

Through the haze, I felt myself being swept off my feet as Tristan carried me in his arms, his voice a harsh whisper against my ear.

“Apologize to Zara right now,” he demanded coldly. “Don’t push me to turn my back on you.”

His grip tightened. “Think carefully—this company is under my name. Divorce me now and you won’t see a single penny.”

The room held its breath, waiting for my reaction. But I didn’t explode. Instead, I smiled faintly, though my face burned red from humiliation.

“Fine,” I said evenly, my voice cutting through the tension. “Let’s get divorced.”

Stunned silence filled the space. Tristan froze, disbelief flickering across his face. I calmly picked up my jacket, draped it over my shoulders and turned to leave. But I only managed two steps before the world tilted violently. Pain shot through my body as darkness closed in and I collapsed onto the floor. Scarlet liquid pooled beneath me, staining the floor like a cruel work of art. Gasps filled the room as chaos erupted.