He Spent Our Fifth Anniversary With Another Woman

I turned on my phone, and there it was on TIKTOP—a viral video of a CEO wooing his wife.

The video had already amassed over a million likes, with the comment section filled with blessings for the couple, proclaiming them a perfect match made in heaven.

The woman's delicate laughter and the man's indulgent chuckle in the video grated on my ears.

In front of me, a table full of food I had prepared myself had lost all its aroma.

Today marked the fifth anniversary of my relationship with Oliver. He had promised to come home early to celebrate with me and even mentioned a surprise.

However, by the afternoon, he told me there was a slight issue at work and asked me to wait for him; he'd be back as soon as he was done.

Naively, I had prepared a lavish meal, eagerly awaiting our anniversary celebration.

Taking a break, I scrolled through my phone only to discover that his so-called major work issue involved flying a private plane with his childhood friend Victoria.

What a surprise indeed.

In the video, the man was piloting the plane, carefully writing “Victoria” in the sky.

Oliver’s usually stern face was smiling, his sharp jawline softened by his grin.

His gaze, full of emotion, was directed at Victoria beside him, and it was painful to see.

He had never looked at me that way.

I had thought he was just slow to warm up, poor at expressing his feelings, naturally aloof, and allergic to romance.

Clearly, I was entirely mistaken.

I let out a self-deprecating laugh and picked up some sweet and sour pork ribs I had made.

Taking a bite, the mix of sweet and sour flavors mirrored the complexity of my feelings.

I picked up my phone and called Oliver.

He answered quickly, his voice as cool as ever, “What’s up?”

The roar of the plane came through from his end. After a moment's silence, I asked, “Are you done with work?”

“Not yet, just tell me what you want,” he replied impatiently.

There was no sign of guilt in his voice; he was completely unapologetic.

“It’s okay if you’re not done; we are done,” I declared.

“What are you talking about now?” he sighed.

“Wishing the mighty CEO and his delicate wife a lifetime of happiness,” I said, and then I hung up.

It was over, and it was time for me to move back to my small, rundown apartment from his grand mansion.

It was a shame for the feast on the table to go to waste.

I invited Mrs. Jackson and Mr. Rees over for a farewell dinner. Mrs. Jackson asked, "Diane, aren't you waiting for Mr. Dyer anymore?"

"No longer waiting," I replied lightly, adding silently to myself that I wouldn't wait anymore.

After dinner, I cleaned up the pots and pans and then went to gather my luggage from the bedroom. Spotlessly clean, the room bore no traces of my presence anymore. Dragging my suitcase, I took a taxi back to the small apartment my parents had bought for me. The journey from the villa to the suburban apartment took a full hour.

After I started dating Oliver, he often complained about the long distance between our homes, claiming it made dating inconvenient and suggesting we live together. So, Oliver had helped me move my luggage to his place, and now I was hauling it all back by myself. Not only was our homes far apart, but so were our hearts.

Despite sharing a bed every night, I never truly knew what he was thinking. Upon reaching my empty home, I saw the dusty bed. I mustered the energy to tidy up a bit before collapsing into sleep.

Waking up the next day, I realized my phone was dead; it must have been noon already. After plugging it in, I saw a few urgent messages on WeChat.

"What's wrong now?"

"Stop making a fuss. Calm down and come back on your own. You're too old to be running away from home like this."

I wasn't sure if he had returned or if Mrs. Jackson had told him. It didn't matter anymore. I didn't respond to his messages and continued tidying up my little apartment, accustomed to the routine.

Whenever Victoria had an issue—be it a blown bulb, a burst pipe, or a power outage—she'd cry, and Oliver would drop everything to be with her. Oliver and I had argued countless times over this. He always thought I was being unreasonable: "I don't know what you're always thinking about. There's nothing going on between Victoria and me, believe it or not."

Each time, after leaving me to attend to Victoria following our arguments, he would transfer me some money and say things to pacify me. Then, I would forgive him and continue to immerse myself in this relationship. But now, I'm just so tired, I can't keep this up any longer.