To land business deals, I often drank with clients—too much, too often. I lost count of how many times I ended up in the emergency room because of it.
It was Vanessa’s choice not to have children. But to protect her, I took the blame. I told everyone the problem was with me.
I said it so many times, even she started to believe it.
After she started bringing that little boy around all the time—her “nephew,” so she claimed—Vanessa stopped coming home. Always an excuse. Always too busy. She never gave me another chance. No intimacy, no future.
Sometimes, I’d catch myself wondering: when did I become the one everyone pointed fingers at?
The birthday banquet began.
My father-in-law’s younger brother made his rounds, toasting everyone. When he reached me, I rose from my seat out of respect—basic courtesy as a son-in-law.
Apparently, he didn’t see it that way.
He shot me a look full of disdain and scoffed, “Why are you standing? I’m not drinking with you. You shouldn’t even be here.”
Then he glanced at the fruit box I’d brought.
“You had the nerve to send rotten fruit? Look at what Julian brought.”
With that, he turned and walked away.
I clenched my fists and laughed bitterly.
The wine and cigarettes that Julian “gifted” were bought by me. Even the consecrated jade pendant—that I drove hundreds of kilometers to get from a temple—I was the one who prepared that. For them.
Vanessa had said she was too busy to prepare a birthday gift. So I handled everything. I made sure it was thoughtful, elegant, and meaningful.
But in the end, all my efforts wore someone else’s name.
While I was on the road—exhausted, sweating, worrying if I’d make it back in time—they were posting polished photos together on social media. Smiling. Matching outfits. Filtered bliss.
I’m not a fool.
Everything was orchestrated by Vanessa.
She had the chance to defend me. She could’ve said something. But she didn’t. She let everyone believe I was the cheapskate who brought spoiled fruit.
And at that moment, I felt… nothing. No more pain. Just the urge to laugh.
I’ve never been a coward. I had the guts to choose Vanessa back then—and I have the guts to walk away now.
The moment I saw her light a cigarette for Julian, I knew.
It was over.
The lighter? I gave it to her. She asked for it specifically.
When I asked why, she had smiled and said,
“I want to light your cigarettes for the rest of our lives. You work too hard, always pushing yourself. If you have to smoke, I want to be the one to light it… only for you.”
That vow meant everything to me.
Now, it means nothing.
As I turned to leave the banquet, Julian exhaled a cloud of smoke in my direction—casual, arrogant, like I was the one being dismissed.
Vanessa’s family stared at me coldly, as if I was an intruder. An embarrassment.
“Daniel,” Vanessa called after me, arms crossed, voice dripping with disdain,
“You better think this through. Don’t come crawling back to me like a dog when you regret it.”
I didn’t even glance back.
When I got home, the first thing I did was call an old friend.
“I want a divorce,” I said.
Then I packed my belongings and placed the house key on the table.
Before I walked out, I took one last look at the place Vanessa and I had decorated together.
Goodbye, Vanessa.
---
I spent that night at a hotel. The next morning, I rented a modest apartment in an old neighborhood. The space was small, the walls faded, and the plumbing groaned with age.
But it didn’t matter.
I’ve lived through worse.
I still remember the first time I met Vanessa. She’d just been admitted to a third-tier university, while I got into one of the top ones. Her campus wasn’t far from mine.
That day, her father tried to drag her home—said she couldn’t afford tuition and should drop out.
I happened to witness the scene. I saw Vanessa crying, pleading. Something in me stirred.
I stepped in.
Her father barked at me, told me not to meddle in things that weren’t my business.
“She’s got no money. What’s the point of school? Better marry her off while she’s still young.”
I didn’t think. I just said,
“I’ll pay her tuition.”
At the time, I only wanted to protect her right to an education.
I never expected her to fall for me.
Later, I found out her father wasn’t poor. He just thought education was a waste on girls.
Vanessa told me more than once,
“You saved me from a dead end. You were my hero.”
Funny how heroes become fools in the end.
