The 99th Divorce Agreement

Five years ago, Gary Cooper proposed to me 99 times just to marry me.

Five years later, to cheer up the secretary he adored, he handed me 99 divorce papers.

"Relax. I'm not actually divorcing you. I'm just humoring her. Just pretend like you always do. There's no need to sign."

When Gary said it, he was even smiling.

As for me, the heartbreak I once felt had long since faded. Now, there was barely a ripple left.

I suddenly remembered what day it was and asked quietly, "Will you be home for dinner tonight?"

He paused for a moment, then casually shook his head.

"Probably not. Today's kind of special. I don't want her to get jealous."

I nodded and watched him walk out the door.

Then, I picked up a pen and carefully signed my name on the 99th divorce agreement.

"Just pretend like you always do. There's no need to sign."

Gary Cooper pulled out the divorce agreement like it was routine. His tone sounded like he was comforting me.

I took the paper from him, completely calm. I didn't even feel like responding to what he said.

"Shannon."

Gary frowned slightly, clearly annoyed by my silence, and repeated himself.

I reluctantly pulled my eyes away from my phone and answered, "Okay."

Ever since Priscilla Beck appeared, this exact scene had played out 99 times.

The first time happened right after I found out I was pregnant.

Gary handed me the divorce agreement Priscilla had written herself. His eyes wouldn't meet mine.

"I've been seeing someone. It's her birthday tonight. Just do me a favor."

My mind went blank. The glass in my hand slipped and shattered on the floor.

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" I asked.

He frowned and glanced at my still flat stomach. "Think about the baby. Don't make a scene."

It was our first child.

That night, I lay in bed like a ghost, crying until nearly morning.

In the end, I gave in.

The second time happened when my mother was seriously ill.

By then, my pregnancy was already showing. I was running back and forth between the hospital and home every day, my belly heavy in front of me.

Gary stopped me in the hospital hallway and handed me another agreement.

"This is the second one. Same as last time. I'll take a picture and send it to her so she knows."

He even used my mother's medical bills to pressure me.

People passed by in the crowded hallway while I stood there holding the divorce agreement in both hands. Under everyone's gaze, I felt like a complete clown.

After that came the third time, the seventh time, the twenty-eighth time…

By the 32nd time, I lost the baby.

The doctor said it was caused by severe depression during pregnancy. My hormones had been completely thrown off.

The baby had already grown tiny hands and feet.

But it still couldn't stay.

That time, I completely broke down.

I grabbed the divorce agreement from Gary's hand, signed my name across it, and threw it back at him.

"I've had enough. Let's just get divorced!"

My throat tightened as I shouted like a madman, my voice shaky and desperate.

Gary looked at me in surprise.

Then, he laughed.

He reached out and slowly pulled me into his arms, his voice gentle.

"Don't be silly. Back then, I proposed to you 99 times before you agreed to marry me. If we're going to divorce, we'll wait until we reach the 99th agreement. Otherwise, I'd be taking too big a loss."

I froze.

I stared at the man in front of me as if he were some kind of monster.

Five years ago, when Gary proposed to me, I had just been accepted into an overseas study program.

To make me stay, he proposed 99 times.

On the 100th time, I finally gave in.

His persistence moved me so much that I gave up the opportunity I had worked so hard for.

I stayed and became the woman everyone envied in Starborough.

Until the moment he said he would be "taking a loss," I had believed those proposals were proof that we loved each other.

A wave of exhaustion and bitterness swallowed me whole.

After that day, I never brought up divorce again.