Chapter 3
Yolanda’s eyes flickered with panic. She probably didn’t expect to run into me here.
But I just left the report at the door, turned around, and walked out without saying another word.
It wasn’t until I was almost home that I received a message from Yolanda.
[Matthew, I only brought Chris home today to introduce him to my parents.]
[He kept insisting on a wedding, so I just let him meet my parents.]
[But don’t worry, it’s just a fake wedding. You’re still my husband!]
She typed quickly, as though she had been waiting to say this for a while, and the words came pouring out.
This message certainly came later than the idea of a wedding.
<
I didn’t know how long she had been planning the wedding with Chris.
I also didn’t know how long I had stopped being her husband in her heart.
All I knew was that in five days, I would never have to see Yolanda again.
I wandered aimlessly down the street, my feet instinctively carrying me toward the café where Yolanda and I used to go on dates.
Everything inside the café felt so familiar.
But now, the two people sitting at the bar drinking coffee were Yolanda and Chris.
He held a glass of wine, his arm around her. Both of them flushed, their eyes full of desire.
“Come on, Yolanda, let’s drink another toast.”
A toast?
I stared at the two of them, my mind scrambling to remember this gesture.
The memory shot back to our wedding day when Yolanda looked at me in her pure white wedding dress, her eyes full of love and gratitude.
But after that day, we never had the desire to share a toast.
I had tried countless times, but all I got in return was rejection.
Yolanda refused to drink even a single glass of wine in front of me, but with Chris, she drank glass after glass.
The two of them were completely engrossed in their interaction, not noticing me sitting nearby, but the coffee shop owner did. His gaze shifted between me and the couple, confusion and shock filling his eyes.
Maybe, to others, we appeared like a happy couple, but only I knew how torturous this marriage really was.
Chris followed the owner’s gaze and immediately furrowed his brow when he saw me. He set down his drink and walked over, his voice tinged with frustration.
“Matthew, I just asked Yolanda to spend a few days with me. You don’t have to act like this!
“I swear, I’m not trying to take Yolanda away from you. Please, just let us have a few more days together. Just a few, I beg you!
“After that, I won’t bother you two anymore!”
Yolanda, seeing me, had the flush of alcohol and desire fade from her face in an instant.
“Chris, be a bit more polite to Matthew. Stop making a scene!”
Hearing Yolanda’s words, Chris looked down and quietly returned to the bar, sipping his drink.
Yolanda’s brow furrowed tightly as she gripped my hand a little too forcefully.
“Honey, I’ve told you. He won’t shake your place in my heart. You’ll always be my husband!
“After this fake marriage is over, we can remarry, okay?
“But right now, just leave us alone. Don’t show up here again, alright?”
Her voice grew louder and more desperate, almost turning into a scream.
I wasn’t angry, nor was I pleading. Just like when she told me she wanted a fake divorce, I quietly nodded and turned to leave.
Yolanda still wanted to say something, but seeing my silent demeanor, she opened her mouth and couldn’t get a word out.
3:50 PM
<
The greatest sorrow was when one’s heart died.
When one gave up on someone, even the desire to be angry at them vanished.
For the next few days, I stayed home, as the condition the system gave me kept me bedridden.
Then, I received a message from Chris.
[Matthew, today is the wedding between Yolanda and me. Are you coming?]
