Our Anniversary Tattoo Marked the End of My Marriage

I relaxed my hand, took the cleaning cloth passed over by the servant, and slowly wiped my hands.

“You’re wrong about one thing.”

“In Nashville, I am the power.”

The second the surgery light turned on, the sharp scent of cleaner made me dizzy for a brief moment.

I suddenly saw eighteen-year-old Rosalie clearly.

She always sat in the front row of the classroom, spine straight like a ruler.

Her collar had been washed until it faded, worn down into tiny loose threads.

Once, she ran a high fever and skipped lessons for three days. When I finally found her, she was sorting trash by the roadside.

I pushed five thousand yuan into her bag.

She chased after me across three streets to give it back, voice rough. “Kaegan, please let me keep some pride.”

After that, I only “by chance” brought an extra breakfast, and “along the way” lent her study notes.

On the night of the Winter Solstice, she carried two roasted sweet potatoes in her pocket.

In the minus-ten cold wind, she waited outside the dorm until the lights went out, and the first line she spoke when she saw me was:

“Keagan, can I ask you to wait for me?”

Many years later, she rose from nothing and brought her company to the market.

She held me close through the night, voice breaking. “Those years I slept only three hours a day, scared I couldn’t keep pace with you, scared you’d notice I had to save a whole week just to buy you a coffee.”

Until the day she met my family, when she saw my father in the living room, she understood that the Foster in Keagan Foster was that Foster.

Later, Rosalie told me that at that instant her head held only one thought. “So the finish line I chased my whole life, couldn’t even reach your starting line.”

After learning my family roots, Rosalie became known for pushing herself too hard.

She fought for deals and projects without rest, burned down her health, and forced her way into the highest circles of Nashville.

Then she laid out a rose manor with 99,999 gold roses and asked me to marry her.

What did she say at that time?

She said her purpose in living was to become someone good enough for me.

As the anesthesia slowly wore off, a light ache rose from my chest.

The love Rosalie gave me was vast and shining.

Pity, brief.

Promises shine brightest only when they are spoken.

The forever we promised did not last past seven years. “Young sir?”

I snapped my eyes open, fingertips brushing the cold wetness at the corners of my eyes.

The ache pressing on my chest would not ease.

The butler spoke quietly, “Miss Rosalie has come back.”

I dropped my eyes to my chest; the skin there had already been fully changed.

Fresh flesh, faintly pink, smooth and even, no mark left.

Rosalie walked in holding bags, warmth familiar on her face.

She set the jewelry-brand bags aside and reached out to touch my face.

“Keagan, Fritz went too far today.”

“I bought you a new watch, don’t be angry with him, hm?”

The medical staff had already gone from the old house; only a handful of guards stayed behind.

Rosalie noticed nothing strange. She smiled and opened the jewelry case, diamonds shining brightly.

“I promise I won’t let Fritz stir up trouble again.”

When she spoke Fritz’s name, warmth slipped into her voice without hiding; even she failed to notice it.

I stood still, watching her quietly.

Now she wore a necklace worth tens of millions.

The collar, once worn thin by washing, now held smooth mother-of-pearl buttons.

Even the gardenia scent on her body was exactly the same as the smell in Fritz’s hair.

I looked at her graceful appearance and suddenly thought of that Winter Solstice long ago.

She stood in the snow, the cuffs of her down jacket leaking cotton, yet hugged roasted sweet potatoes to her chest, afraid they would turn cold.