Our Thirtieth Wedding Anniversary is His First Love’s Birthday

###Chapter 2

I endured the sharp pain in my chest and said softly, “Next month, my friend is having a birthday. She invited me to go.”

Only then did Richard snort lightly. He walked to the sofa and sat down, then, as usual, stretched his feet out in front of me.

Like I had done countless times before, I bent down skillfully, took off his leather shoes and put on his soft house slippers. His voice, full of dislike, fell from above me.

“If you could learn even half of Margareth’s grace and manners, I wouldn’t have to clean up your mess all the time.”

My hands suddenly stopped.

At that moment, I finally saw the truth. For all these years, I had only been a hardworking servant by his side, not his wife.

Yes. Margareth was the woman he truly cared about. Her face was delicate, her features refined and though she was approaching sixty, she moved with a grace and elegance that spoke of careful self-care.

How could these rough hands of mine and this pale, tired face worn down by life, ever catch his eye?

Richard loosened his tie and calmly accepted my service, as if it was only natural.

I looked up at him, my voice trembling. “Richard, do you remember what day this weekend is?”

He lowered his head and played with his phone, not paying attention. “What could be so important?”

My eyes burned. I clenched my teeth to stop them from shaking. “It’s our thirtieth wedding anniversary.”

Richard paused and finally looked up from his phone.

He had really forgotten.

Seeing the disappointment in my eyes, he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Hermione, sorry. I have to go on a business trip that day. I can’t stay with you.”

That was the day he was going to hold a grand birthday party for Margareth.

I knew he would never choose me. But why did my nose still sting, as if tears were about to fall? Compared to staying by Margareth’s side, our thirty years together were as light as dust.

Even our wedding had been deliberately set on Margareth’s birthday.

I could not hold it back anymore. My lips trembled as I opened my mouth. “You and Margareth…”

I was just about to question him about the marriage certificate when Margareth’s special ringtone suddenly rang.

Without thinking, Richard answered the call at once. Realizing I was still there, he turned slightly and covered the phone, but Margareth’s crying voice still came through.

“Richard, I wanted to cook porridge for you, but I burned my hand… It hurts so much!”

Richard jumped to his feet. “Don’t move. I’m coming right now!”

He rushed toward the door. When he reached the stairs, he seemed to remember me and quickly turned back. “There’s an urgent matter at the company. I have to deal with it. I’ll make it up to you for the anniversary next time. Don’t you like Japanese food? I’ll take you to the best restaurant.”

But the one who liked Japanese food was my sister. My stomach had long been ruined from years of cooking for him. I could not even eat raw or cold food anymore.

Thirty years had passed and he still remembered her preferences deeply. But everything about me had never stayed in his heart.

In his hurry, Richard knocked over the ceramic vase on the coffee table.

It was something we made together during our only private trip. He once said he would treasure it for a lifetime.

I stared blankly at the broken pieces on the floor. It was like the sincere love I had given in half my life—shattered, never able to be put back together.

Richard did not even look at it. His figure quickly disappeared into the night outside.

“Fine. I will let you have each other.”

I pulled the wedding ring off my ring finger and threw it hard into the trash can. Then I walked to the safe in Richard’s study and entered Margareth’s birthday.

With a click, the door opened.

I wanted to take out a document. More than twenty years ago, I had given Richard the share certificate of the Hawthorne Group for safekeeping.

But when the safe opened, what I saw inside made my blood freeze instantly.