She Believed a Pretender, But Forgot Her True Husband

And I didn’t even have a single piece of red clothing in my closet.

“Veronica, that day, I clearly called out to you.” The unwillingness in my heart still forced the words out.

“And then?” Veronica lifted her eyelids. “Do you want me to apologize for my psychological illness?”

“Lincoln, you already knew I had this problem before we got married.”

Looking at her indifferent face, I suddenly felt exhausted. Yes, everything was of my own making.

“Fine, I’ll go to the press conference.”

But Veronica’s eyes shifted, fixed on my bag, where half of an airline magazine was showing.

I followed her gaze and saw the page open to a group photo of a symphony orchestra performance.

Dozens of people crowded together, and in the most unnoticeable corner sat a man playing the cello. He was the man Veronica had embraced.

The photo was so blurry it was nearly impossible to make out his features, yet Veronica, with just one glance, recognized him.

So, it wasn’t that she couldn’t recognize men’s faces; she just couldn’t recognize the man she didn’t love.

My heart felt as if it were being gripped, and even breathing became painful, but I still forced a smile, pulled out the magazine, and shoved it into Veronica’s arms.

“Here, take it. I don’t want it anymore.”

With this identity and these three years of neglect, I didn’t want them anymore.

The next day, I arrived at the press conference on time.

The spotlights fell on me like countless blades striking all at once.

I wore a gray-green suit, the complete opposite of the white Veronica had always demanded. Taking the host’s microphone, I began calmly.

“The reason I was wrongly arrested was because my wife, Veronica, told the police to their faces that she didn’t know me.”

The entire audience erupted. I paused and turned toward a camera, as though my eyes were fixed on Veronica through the lens.

“I think, for someone who has been married three years and still cannot recognize her own husband, being trapped in this marriage must be nothing but painful. So, I’ve decided to grant her wish. Veronica and I will hereby divorce.”

Once I got into the car, I realized my hands were trembling, not from fear but from the relief of finally breaking free of my shackles.

My phone vibrated wildly, the screen flashing Veronica’s name, and I turned it off without hesitation.

The car hadn’t gone far when it was forced to stop by Veronica. She stepped out, her face so dark it looked as though water could drip from it.

“Lincoln, are you crazy?!”

She dragged me from the car, her nails digging into my skin. “Who gave you the nerve to spout nonsense at the press conference!”

I stared coldly at her furious face. “Which sentence did I say wasn’t true?”

She was caught off guard by my question, her anger flaring even hotter.

“Do you know this could hurt other people? What if they dig up the airport surveillance, and Enzo gets dragged in? He worked so hard to get into the Vienna Orchestra!”

She really could tell them apart, and the pain in my chest spread all at once, as if tearing me apart. “Veronica, you can recognize him.”

Veronica’s face showed thin irritation. “So what? He means something different to me, but I still married you. Don’t forget, all of this was you begging for it.”

Yes, everything was my obsession. Veronica couldn’t even remember my face, so how could she remember a promise made twenty years ago?

I wiped the tears from my face. “Veronica, I regret it. Let’s divorce.”