That evening, after packing everything, I lay exhausted on the bed when I received a call from my best friend, Mitchell Potter.
"What's going on with Ivy? She's going overboard. Check your socials—she's actually flaunting her love with that Owen guy.
"You two aren't even divorced yet! How can she do this?"
Listening to Mitchell's complaints, I casually unlocked my phone. Owen's latest post was at the top.
In the photo, Owen wore a Patek Philippe watch on his wrist and held the red paper bag Ivy had taken from home at noon. Only then did I realize she'd come home at noon just to get the concert gift for Owen.
Below the image was a caption.
"Three years of knowing each other. I'm so lucky to have you, Ivy. Happy third anniversary!"
At that moment, it suddenly hit me.
Third anniversary?
Right, today was our third wedding anniversary too. But we'd never celebrated our wedding anniversary, so much so that I'd completely forgotten it myself.
I let out a long breath before replying to Mitchell, "She doesn't need a divorce because we never registered our marriage."
"What? You've been married for three years and still haven't registered your marriage?"
Mitchell's surprised exclamation over the phone practically blasted my eardrum.
He was right. We'd had our wedding ceremony three years ago, and she'd unilaterally canceled our marriage registration 17 times.
