Why So Serious?

My usually cold and distant wife shared a bowl of soup with her newly joined colleague.

Surprisingly, I felt calm, even as I brought up divorce.

She sneered at me, "Don't be ridiculous. I'm exhausted. He's just a colleague of mine."

"Even if we're married, you have no right to interfere with what I do with my colleagues."

"If that's what you think, then I can't help you."

When I actually put the divorce papers in front of her, she flew into a rage.

"Ryan, do you think the Wagners were still what they used to be? You're nothing without me!"

During dinner, Jen Walter avoided the food I served her for the third time.

Her rejection turned me off.

We had been married for two years, but she never accepted the food I offered her. She even insisted on using separate utensils.

She glanced at me when she noticed I was distracted. "Hmm? What did you just say?"

I looked at her calmly and said, "Let's get a divorce."

Her smile vanished, replaced by a look of disdain. "Stop joking around. I had a tiring day. I've told you Wesley is just a colleague of mine."

I slammed my bowl and retorted, "What kind of colleagues share the same bowl of soup? Are there not enough bowls or something?"

She stood up and glared at me as she shouted, "Stop being ridiculous, Ryan Wagner! We're married indeed, but you have no right to interfere with what I do.

"I know you regret marrying me. You're impatient and frustrated because you want a divorce. The Wagners aren't as glorious as they used to be, huh? What a joke."

She crossed her arms and added, "Let me tell you something. I won't let you get what you want."

I would not have believed it if I had not seen it with my own eyes. Jen shared a bowl of soup with her colleague, Wesley Dyson.

Her company had a team-building event earlier that day. She had never invited me to one previously, but a few friends of mine from her company had told me to come.

I did not expect to witness that scene.

Wesley filled a bowl of soup, drank half, and Jen picked it up casually and took a sip.

"That's mine," Wesley reminded her.

Jen replied as if it were nothing. "I know."

Wesley's face turned red as he sat there.

At that moment, I was just as stunned as everyone else around them.

It turned out that Jen could share food and utensils with someone, but she never touched the food I served her.

She could joke around with someone, but not with me.

We had been married for two years, yet I was not even comparable to her colleague who she had only recently met.

"Jen, I said I want a divorce," I repeated firmly.

She still thought I was being unreasonable. She grabbed her things and headed toward the door.

"Calm down. This isn't a big deal. We'll talk when you're thinking straight. Also, don't forget to take care of what Mom asked you to do. She's been bugging me about it again."

She left, and the room fell silent.

Back then, her family had been on the brink of bankruptcy. They needed someone to bail them out of their financial mess.

That was when she remembered me—the guy who had been chasing after her.

She looked at me with her usual arrogance and said, "I can marry you."

However, I did not expect that after two years of caring for her, I would get nothing in return but her and her family's increasing demands.

Later that night, Wesley sent me a video.

Jen was partying with a group of people and having the time of her life. She did not look like someone who had just had a fight with her husband.

Back when I wanted to introduce her to my friends, she immediately refused.

At the time, I thought she was just emotionally distant, maybe socially anxious. However, I finally understood that it was merely because she simply did not want to be a part of my world.

She did not want to know my friends or be involved in my life.