At the wedding, the husband's first love announced that she was pregnant

The pain felt like an invisible hand clamped tightly around my chest, making even breathing difficult.

In that moment, I truly realized for the first time how pitiful I had become.

I turned off the screen. In the darkness, my reflection surfaced. Pale face. Hollow eyes. Not a trace of life left.

The next second, my phone lit up.

A message from my lawyer.

The divorce procedures were basically completed. We could arrange the signing tomorrow.

I wandered outside for the entire day and only returned home after night fell. When I pushed the door open, a wave of cold air mixed with a strange, unfamiliar scent rushed toward me.

There was no trace of me left in the house.

Instead, Thalia’s presence was everywhere.

Her shawl lay carelessly draped over the back of the sofa.

On the coffee table sat a half finished glass of milk, still carrying her perfume. Soft, yet suffocating.

Even by the entrance, her pink slippers were placed neatly side by side, as if this home had always been waiting only for her.

I walked into the bedroom and sat at the desk, writing my final letter.

Not to him.

But to the naive, stubborn version of myself.

Tears fell silently, blurring the ink beneath my pen.

Cassian, I loved you for nearly fifteen years.

From the clumsy love letter I handed you in high school, to standing beside you at the altar, I always believed that if I loved you enough, you would eventually see me.

But in the end, I realized how completely wrong I was.

I thought marriage required effort from two people. Yet it turned into nothing more than chains binding you from pursuing your happiness.

I can no longer waste our time.

This time, I choose to let you go, and to let myself go as well.

After finishing, I placed the letter on the desk and gently pressed my discharge papers beneath it.

The miscarriage report.

Then, carefully, I erased every trace of myself from the room. I removed my fingerprint from the smart lock, packed my luggage, and left the place once called home.

Now, it was nothing more than a cold prison.

As I stepped out the door, sunlight fell across my face, and I found myself smiling for the first time in a long while.

Happy divorce, Cassian.

There will be no next time for us.

When Cassian returned home, night had already deepened.

He carried two bags of desserts. All of them were my favorites.

He looked exhausted. He must have spent a long time finding them.

But when his eyes landed on the letter on the table, the expression on his face froze.

An instinctive fear rose rapidly in his eyes, impossible to hide.

When he reached out to pick up the letter, his fingers trembled slightly. The thin paper was stained with tears, yet the words were sharp as blades.

We should never see each other again.

That single sentence struck him like a heavy punch to the gut, stealing his balance in an instant.

Then, he saw the medical report beside the letter.

Pregnant six weeks. Threatened miscarriage. Uterine evacuation completed.

At that moment, his phone vibrated.

A new message popped up.

“Mr. Cassian, the divorce procedures between you and Ms. Melody have been fully completed.”