Divorced After Her Betrayal

I don’t even remember how I got home. My mind was in a haze as I collapsed onto the couch.

All around me were the stuffed toys I had once given to Lynette. The home I had so carefully created for her now seemed to mock my foolishness with every detail.

A memory surfaced—her first time stepping into this place. There was no surprise, no delight. If anything, a trace of disappointment flickered in her eyes.

She forced a smile and asked, “Zack, is this really going to be our home? Is it even 100 square meters?”

Back then, I was drunk on love and dreams of our future together. I couldn’t see her dissatisfaction or sense her indifference. I had simply beamed, saying, “This is our first little nest, full of love. Trust me, it’ll grow bigger and better! I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world!”

However, my promise brought no joy to her face. She simply asked coolly, “You just graduated. How are you paying for this place?”

Her question froze the smile on my face. I hesitated, then told her not to worry. To prove my worth to both her and my family, I took out a loan to buy the apartment. To make her happy, I borrowed money to buy gifts. I worked tirelessly to pay off those debts, taking on overtime and night shifts.

Months blurred into each other. I took more pills than meals to keep going. The effort paid off professionally. I became the fastest among my batch of interns to get a permanent position, and later, a promotion.

My father called countless times, ordering me to come home, but I always refused. I wanted to prove myself and show that my choice in Lynette was right.

Unfortunately, no matter what I did, it didn’t make her look forward to our future. Instead, she drifted further and further away.

Jim eventually approached her directly, offering to teach her business skills, grow her network, and secure clients. I’ll never forget the sparkle in her eyes when she agreed; it was a look she had never shown me.

That unease began to gnaw at me. We started pretending not to know each other at work. Eventually, even at home, we barely exchanged words. No matter how many surprises I planned after watching tutorials online or how expensive the gifts I bought for her were, she wouldn’t spare me a glance.

Once, she even forced me to return a shopping bag. “This probably cost two months of your salary, doesn’t it? It’s unnecessary. I don’t like it. Take it back.”

Later though, I saw the same item in her social media photos, labeled as her “favorite gift.” Her coworkers’ comments were filled with envy.

Neither did she ever let me appear in her posts nor did she allow me to share any pictures of her. The love I poured my entire heart into became a shameful secret in her eyes. The harder I tried to hold on, the farther she drifted away.

Now, we had completely fallen apart. I stared at the ceiling, a sharp pain constricting my chest, making it almost impossible to breathe.

Dragging myself up, I started throwing the stuffed toys into the trash one by one, along with the pitiful scraps of my love.

When I finished cleaning, the living room felt cold and empty. I opened my phone, only to see the work group chat buzzing with excitement. I scrolled up for five minutes before I found the reason: something Lynette posted just half an hour ago.

It was a photo of a luxury seaside hotel room with floor-to-ceiling windows. Reflected in the glass were two people in an intimate embrace. Her caption read: “The right person will always be part of your future.”

At that moment, whatever was left of my crumbling world completely collapsed. I grabbed a small bottle of vodka from the fridge and gulped it down. The alcohol, which I had once despised, now felt like the only thing keeping me sane.

I slumped to the floor, leaning against the corner of the couch, the buzz creeping into my head. My vision blurred, and a bitter smile tugged at my lips.

I couldn’t even tell when Lynette and I had begun to drift apart. After all, she was the one who had chased after me at the start.