I Chose My Research, and He Chose Regret

In the seventh year of my marriage to Simon Heath, I finally walk away from him after his 32nd mistress shows up at my door.

I join a classified government program and disappear from his world. Now he's falling apart and calling me non-stop.

"Lily, I was wrong. Please come back."

In the past, a single word of apology from him would have been enough to make me stay.

But not this time.

This time, he's bound to be disappointed.

I was in the kitchen making dinner for Simon Heath when his 32nd mistress walked through the door.

The young woman standing before me couldn't have been more than 20. She was young and beautiful and had a cheerful smile.

She gave me a dismissive glance and said smugly, "Mrs. Heath, my name is Sophie Martinez. I'm Simon's girlfriend."

Her eyes landed on my apron, and she sneered.

"The Heath family can't even afford a maid? I guess that's how it looks when someone stops caring," she teased. "He says the kitchen's too greasy and smoky, so he'd never let me set foot in there."

Hearing that, I found myself staring at Sophie's pale, dainty fingers. Her words made me zone out for a second.

Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my finger. When I came back to my senses, blood was already dripping down my hand.

Sophie laughed even harder when she saw the vacant despair in my eyes.

She purred, "Let's be honest, Mrs. Heath. The one he doesn't love is always the third party. Simon loves me, and you're just a box he checks."

As she said that, she gently placed her hand on her lower abdomen. There was a bright, expectant gleam in her eyes.

For some reason, I felt like laughing.

Every time one of Simon's 31 mistresses confronted me, they declared their love was genuine. However, he would dump every single one of them without fail.

I figured this time would be no different, but something about Sophie made me uneasy. My heart was racing for no reason, like something was spinning out of control.

When she saw I wasn't reacting, she grew more agitated.

"Lily Taylor, why is a washed-up woman like you still clinging to Simon like a parasite? Don't you realize you're just dead weight dragging him down? You bring nothing to the table and can't even give him a child."

She pulled out her phone and shoved it in my face, showing off her messages with Simon.

My mind went blank as I looked at their sweet, affectionate conversations on the screen.

It turned out he could be thoughtful enough to remind her to eat breakfast on time and go to bed early at night. He even shared many random stories with Sophie, like how he spotted a stray cat on the street and so on.

Sophie tucked her phone away and strutted out in her heels.

I ignored the blood still dripping down my hand, reached for my phone, and then scrolled through my chat history with Simon.

Looking back, it was always me keeping the conversation going. All he ever replied with were clipped responses—"Yeah." "Okay." "Got it."

I chuckled wryly, then I called him.

Simon picked up almost immediately, and he asked coldly, "What is it?"

Hearing his voice made my chest tighten with that familiar ache and bitter disappointment. Still, I told him about Sophie's visit.

The breathing on the other end suddenly became erratic. After a while, his urgent voice came through.

"She's still young. I'll talk to her later."

Hearing that, the truth slowly sank in. Having known Simon for so many years and loved him for just as long, how could I not understand that he had already fallen for Sophie?

I looked at the burned food on the stove and smiled bitterly.

I should've known that this marriage was already over.