The rich aroma of roast beef was so intense it seemed to saturate every corner of the house.

Today was Adam’s birthday.

Louise, wearing her apron, carried the final dish—stir-fried broccoli—to the dining table.

The table was laden with food, a modest fruit cake sitting at its center.

The hands of the clock on the wall had already ticked past seven-thirty.

He was late.

Louise took out her phone, intending to ask him where he was.

Just then, on the living room coffee table, another phone began to vibrate abruptly.

Buzz—Buzz—

It was Adam’s phone. He had left in such a hurry that he had forgotten to take it.

Louise walked over, intending to silence it for him, but the screen lit up on its own.

A text message notification popped up, glaringly visible.

[Adam, I’m at the St. Regis Hotel, the same room as last time. Tonight, I’m going to give you a birthday you won’t forget.]

Sender: Annie.

A stranger's name.

Louise’s hand froze in mid-air.

The cold light of the phone screen illuminated her face, thoroughly dispelling the last trace of warmth from her eyes.

She felt the blood rush to the top of her head, only to instantly run cold.

The food that had filled the room with fragrance just moments ago now smelled nauseating.

Annie...

St. Regis Hotel...

A birthday he wouldn't forget...

Every word was like a searing steel needle, stabbing viciously into her heart.

She grabbed her own car keys, not even bothering to take off her apron, and turned to rush out the door.

"Bang!"

The heavy slam of the front door shook the soup bowls on the table.

The meal she had spent the entire afternoon preparing, along with that little birthday cake, was instantly abandoned in the cold silence.

The red Beetle tore through the night like a maddened beast.

Louise’s foot was stamped dead on the accelerator, her knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel so tightly.

The St. Regis Hotel.

She was going to see exactly who this woman named Annie was!

She was going to ask Adam to his face: what did the days and nights of these past three years actually mean?

The brilliantly lit entrance of the hotel drew closer, looking like a giant maw ready to swallow everything whole.

Louise slammed on the brakes. The car screeched piercingly and came to a halt by the roadside.

She pushed open the door, carrying a chill around her, and strode toward the luxurious lights.

She had already imagined countless scenarios.

She would storm in, find the room, and slap both of them across the face.

However, the moment she was about to step onto the hotel stairs, she froze completely.

Standing in front of the hotel's revolving doors were two figures she knew all too well.

Her father, and her mother.

"Dad? Mom?"

Louise’s mind buzzed, going blank.

Why were they here?

While she was still dazed, a young girl in a champagne-colored slip dress walked out of the hotel, smiling, and affectionately linked arms with her mother.

That face—even under exquisite, heavy makeup—was one Louise could never mistake.

It was her own sister, Anna.

In a split second, Louise felt as though she had been struck by lightning. She stood transfixed.

So, the 'Annie' in the text message was her!

Her mother saw her, too. The smile vanished from her face instantly, replaced by a look of undisguised disgust.

"Louise? What are you doing here!"

Her mother’s voice was shrill and mean.

"Look at the state of you! Running out wearing an apron, acting like a lunatic. Are you trying to humiliate our family on purpose?"

Louise’s father also frowned, his tone full of reproach.

"Your sister finally managed to get Adam out to celebrate his birthday and let him relax. Why did you chase him here like a spy?"

"Can’t you be sensible for once? Adam has just recovered from a serious illness. He needs a gentle, considerate wife, not a prison guard watching his every move!"

Her sister, Anna, let go of their mother’s arm and walked up to Louise, her eyes holding a trace of condescending pity.

"Sis, don't be like this. You'll put a lot of pressure on Adam."

"He just wanted to have a meal with us. Don't overthink it."

Every sentence was like a knife, slicing repeatedly across Louise’s heart.

They all knew.

They all knew!

This so-called "family dinner" was kept secret only from her, the legitimate wife!

She looked at these three people—her so-called family—and the expressions of self-righteousness on their faces, and suddenly found it incredibly laughable.

She said nothing.

No arguments, no questions.

Because in their eyes, the one at fault was always her.

Louise simply gave them a deep, long look, then turned around and walked back to her car, step by step.

Sitting in the driver's seat, she felt as if all the strength had been drained from her body.

She slumped over the steering wheel, her shoulders beginning to tremble uncontrollably.

Three years ago, Adam had been in a car accident and became a vegetable.

The doctors said the chance of him waking up was less than one percent.

Everyone advised her to give up, including her parents.

They said, "Louise, you're only twenty-five. You can't waste your whole life on a living corpse."

But she wouldn't listen.

She quit her promising job, sold all her jewelry and bags, and guarded him at the hospital day and night.

She learned how to sponge-bathe him, how to massage him, how to turn him over to prevent muscle atrophy.

For over a thousand days and nights.

Every day she spoke in his ear, telling him about the outside world, reading him his favorite novels.

She had only one sentence: "Adam, you must wake up."

Two months ago, he actually woke up.

The doctors called it a medical miracle.

She thought this was a divine reward for her three years of youth and love.

She thought the good days were finally coming.

But she was wrong.

After Adam woke up, the way he looked at her always carried a polite distance.

Instead, it was only when her sister Anna came to visit that a true light would spark in his deadened eyes.

She understood now.

It turned out that the name Adam had muttered intermittently during his coma—the "An-An" she had dismissed as nonsense—was never her, Louise.

It was her dear sister, Anna.

The true love in his heart had never been the wife who gave everything for him.

It was the young, beautiful, forever glamorous sister.

Then what were her three years worth?

A free, diligent nurse?

A colossal joke!

Not worth it.

It wasn't worth it at all.

A scalding tear fell onto the cold steering wheel, shattering instantly.

Followed by a second, a third...

Finally, Louise raised her head and wiped the tears from her face.

There was no longer a trace of sadness in her eyes, only ice and resolve.

She restarted the car.

Back home, the house was cold.

The food on the table had gone completely cold, the congealed grease glistening white, looking like a failed sacrifice.

Louise walked into the bedroom and dragged a suitcase from the bottom of the wardrobe.

She began to pack her things.

Her movements weren't fast, but they were methodical.

Clothes, skincare products, and a few of her professional books.

The things that belonged to her were actually very few.

Almost every item in this home had been bought around Adam’s needs.

Half an hour later, the sound of a key unlocking the door came from the entryway.

Adam was back.

He carried a faint scent of alcohol and the smell of unfamiliar women's perfume.

He saw the lights on in the living room, Louise sitting on the sofa with a suitcase standing beside her, and he frowned.

"Why are you sitting in the dark? You scared me."

He changed his shoes and walked in, his tone carrying a trace of imperceptible impatience.

"Didn't I say I had a dinner engagement tonight? Why did you still cook a table full of food? Isn't that a waste?"

Louise didn't look at him; her gaze rested calmly on the table in front of her.

Her voice was like a frozen lake, betraying no ripple of emotion.

"Adam."

Adam’s hand paused as he loosened his tie. He finally sensed the atmosphere was wrong.

"What is it?"

Louise slowly raised her head, her gaze meeting his eyes directly for the first time.

Those eyes, once filled with adoration and tenderness, were now empty.

She spoke, clearly and deliberately, word by word:

"Let's get a divorce."