Divorced Three Years, Still Estranged

At my high school reunion, everyone looked at me as if they had seen a ghost.

“Sophia Carter? Didn’t your husband say he was widowed—that you died three years ago?!”

I froze in place.

My husband works overseas with Doctors Without Borders. They don’t know him, and there’s no way they could have contacted him. Unless… I frowned.

“Which husband are you talking about?”

The class president’s face went pale, her voice trembling.

“Who else? Daniel Hughes!”

“Oh.” My tone was flat. “He’s my ex-husband.”

Daniel Hughes was my first love.

We were together for ten years, but only married for three months before divorcing.

Because of me, his assistant jumped from a building and broke her leg.

He said he had to pay my debt by taking care of her for the rest of her life—and demanded that I disappear forever.

I was certain—the widow he claimed to be wasn’t me.

The class president’s expression turned horrified, her words stumbling.

“Sophia, are you human or a ghost? I’d rather believe you’re a ghost than believe you two actually divorced!”

“Why can’t we get divorced?” I asked calmly.

She looked at me with a mix of shock and disbelief, as if the idea was impossible to accept.

“You two were the top of the class—the number one and two! Even our homeroom teacher joked after graduation that when you married, he’d demand a toast for being your matchmaker!”

“You turned down an Ivy League offer just to follow Daniel to Columbia University!”

“On your wedding day, he held you and cried his eyes out. The star of Roosevelt High, the untouchable genius, was so shaken he couldn’t even speak.”

The more she spoke, the more agitated she became.

“Even now, Roosevelt High still tells your love story. On the campus wishing wall, there’s still writing that says, ‘Sophia Carter and Daniel Hughes, forever.’”

I curled my lips faintly.

Yes, we had once loved each other deeply—but love fades with time.

And divorce? It’s never that complicated.

People grow tired, or one of them finds someone new.

Daniel was no exception.

After our wedding, he began hinting that I was dull—whether in daily life or in bed.

He said marriage was a man’s grave, and he had no intention of being buried alive.

Not long after, he was already with his young, lively assistant, Emily Brooks.

“Sophia?”

The class president waved her hand in front of me.

I came back to my senses.

“When love fades, if it doesn’t work anymore, you separate.”

Seeing my lack of interest, she dropped the subject.

But once the box was opened, my classmates grew animated, their chatter circling back to Daniel again and again.

He had been a legend at Roosevelt High, and even a decade after graduation, he was still the star everyone followed.

“Daniel Hughes went straight into a top investment bank after graduation. Within a year he was promoted to director. His salary ranks among the top three in the industry. He’s basically a financial legend.”

“And just recently, he gave an interview to an international finance magazine. His fluent English and calm aura got him labeled the ‘most charismatic financial elite.’”

“But he’s practically celibate! All these years, aside from Sophia, he’s never been seen with another woman.”

“Right! Just the other day, some influencer confessed to him during a livestream. Daniel coolly replied, ‘I have a wife,’ and hung up immediately.”

Before long, the conversation circled back to me.

“He really loves you. Claiming to be widowed—that’s just his way of denying the divorce.”

“Look at him, he’s clearly still in a cold war with you.”

“What a pity he didn’t show up today. Otherwise, maybe you two would have reconciled right here.”