Old Love Falls Apart

On the eve of the tenth anniversary, Irina Middleton, my wife, who had always been unromantic, suddenly suggested taking wedding photos again.

She said she wanted to make up for my regrets in my youth and my hard work over the years. But at the celebration, someone painted my photo with the word 'kept man'.

Her young assistant cried and tried to explain, "Adrien, I don't know how this happened. Maybe people just assume that the one who isn't loved is the kept man," he said. I saw the paint still on his hands and sneered as I smashed the wedding photo frame.

The assistant then posted a picture on his social media, showing off a milliondollar watch and a photo of him with my wife in our wedding attire. The caption read: [Love is clear, we are the most compatible pair.]

As I scrolled through the divorce papers, I left a comment under his post: [Respect and congratulations—indeed, scum and trash are a match made in heaven!]

——

Just as I finished reading the divorce agreement, Irina, my wife, called. In all the years we've been married, this was her first call.

Her tone was sharp and filled with contempt, "What are you fussing about again? Chris made an innocent mistake, so why are you making a big deal out of it? You're in your thirties. Is it necessary to bully someone younger than you?"

"Hurry up and apologize to Chris, or else …" Otherwise, Irina would give me the silent treatment. She would cut off my allowance. She would kick me out of the house on a stormy night.

I had been through all of that before. In the past, I endured and compromised for love. But the moment she cheated and allowed that pretty boy to provoke me, all my love and memories vanished.

I spoke slowly, "Irina, let's get a divorce. I agree, you two are more suited for each other."

Irina paused for three seconds, then let out a cold laugh, "Divorce? You think you're worthy of bringing up divorce with me? Take a look in the mirror. Who would want a loser like you, a man who's accomplished nothing and lives off a woman? If you have any selfrespect, get over here and apologize to Chris!"

I didn't want to argue, so I hung up. What selfrespect did I have left?

She had trampled on my dignity to make her lover happy, turning me, the rightful husband, into a complete joke.

I remembered when we got married, we had no money, no wedding banquet and no wedding photos. We couldn't afford the photos, leaving that as an unhealed regret.

She had promised to make up for it, but little did I know she would make it up to another man. Ten years of marriage, starting from nothing.

This woman, the love of my life since high school, had become the deepest wound in my heart. Swallowing the bitterness, I contacted a lawyer to discuss the division of our assets.

Midway through the call, Irina returned and said, "Who are you on the phone with? Why haven't you made dinner yet?"

She stepped closer and the strong smell of cigarettes wafted over. I frowned and took a step back.

Her face immediately darkened when she asked, "What's the matter? Feeling guilty? Adrien, are you chatting with some woman behind my back?"

"Is this your way of getting revenge, or are you just too lonely? I'm the one supporting you and you're using my money to flirt with other women!" After speaking, Irina grabbed my phone and threw it to the ground.

I picked it up and a long, glaring crack ran across the screen, just like the state of our marriage. Irina looked down at me with disdain.

She said arrogantly, "Fine, I won't argue with you this time. Let's just call it even. Now go make dinner."

Irina always had double standards. She could spend nights out with Chris, going on trips and drinking. But I wasn't allowed to say a single word to another woman.

In her eyes, no matter what conflict arose between us, it was always my fault. I was always the one who had to apologize.

But this time, I didn't want to bow down and I didn't want to continue in this degrading, hopeless marriage. Seeing me lying on the couch, unmoved, Irina was about to explode with anger.

But then she saw the scar on my leg, left from when I saved her years ago. She sighed softly, "Adrien, that's enough. Isn't it just a set of wedding photos? I've already had the store send over a new set. What more do you want?"

Just moments ago, I had contacted the photographer. The store owner told me that Irina not only took the most expensive wedding photos with Chris but also shot an intimate boudoir photo set.

Chris had said he wanted to 'capture beauty,' but what he was capturing was moments with someone else's wife.

I turned to look at Irina as she was taking off her coat. She was a picky person who paid attention to every detail. That's why I ironed her shirts neatly every morning.

But today, her lipstick was smudged and her shirt was wrinkled. Clearly, she had been in a heated encounter with Chris not long ago.

Suddenly, I felt nauseous and rushed to the bathroom to vomit.

When I came out, Irina frowned at me and said, "Pretending to be sick again. How childish are you? You're just a lazy, goodfornothing bum, why are you always so melodramatic? It's because you're so useless that you killed our baby!"

I clenched my sleeves, a sharp pain piercing through my heart like needles. Years ago, I had downed drinks to shield Irina from social obligations, which led to a stomach hemorrhage and left me with a serious gastric condition.

After our startup succeeded, Irina took charge of managing the company, while I, due to my poor health, stayed home to care for our baby and handle the household. I became the 'kept man' in the eyes of others.

Once, Irina brought the baby and me to a company retreat, where Chris accidentally pushed our child into the river. I immediately jumped in after them, severely injuring myself, but I still couldn't save the baby's life.

I considered holding Chris responsible, but Irina just laughed at me, "How dare you blame others for your incompetence? If you hadn't wrecked your body fooling around when you were younger, maybe you could've saved a child."

She knew I drank at social events to help her business. She knew it was Chris's fault that our baby died. Yet she still used the cruelest words to insult and belittle me.

Over the years, her constant brainwashing had made me insecure and fearful. It was only today that I finally understood, endless tolerance doesn't bring love, it only encourages the other person to trample over you.

I didn't want to argue with Irina anymore, so I went to the bedroom to pack my things. She thought I was doing my usual housework.

Lounging on the sofa with her legs crossed, she casually chatted with Chris, waiting for me to serve her. Their conversation was accompanied by a closeup selfie of the two of them.

Irina was so engrossed in the chat that she didn't even notice when I came out with my suitcase.

"Chris wants to treat you to dinner as an apology," she said. "See how generous he is? You made such a fuss over a small issue, embarrassing him in front of everyone. Tomorrow, you're going to the office to apologize to Chris publicly and we can put this matter behind us. Then we can get back to living our lives."

I didn't say a word, just lowered my head and glanced at the message from my lawyer. It would take about ten days to settle the assets and gather evidence of her infidelity. I had already waited ten years, so what were ten more days?

I kept my thoughts to myself, but Irina misinterpreted my silence as another surrender. She grabbed my arm and forcefully dragged me out the door.

In the underground garage, I habitually opened the passengerside door, but she quickly shoved me aside. My forehead hit the door and the pain brought tears to my eyes.

"Are you okay?" Irina seemed flustered.

She pretended to be concerned about my injury, but her body was deliberately blocking the leopardprint underwear Chris had left in the passenger seat.

She pretended while asked, "The passenger seat is a little dirty. Why don't you sit in the back? Are you seriously hurt? Should we stop by a pharmacy first?"

It was indeed dirty. I avoided her touch and sat in the back, pretending not to notice the label that read 'Chris's Special Seat' stuck to the front seat.

Feeling guilty, Irina tried to make small talk with me on the way, her tone noticeably softer, "Adrien, we've been married for so many years. Don't you know me well enough? There's nothing between me and Chris. He's just a naive young man. I only look after him because he's younger."

I nodded and turned my gaze out the window.

As we passed through a grove of red maple trees, Irina spoke again, "Look, the maple leaves are red again. I remember we took a picture here once. You were smiling so beautifully back then."

Outside, the maple leaves were as vivid as flames, but inside, my heart felt like it had plunged into an icy abyss.

I looked at her and spoke slowly, "We have been together for ten years and apart from the wedding photo that was destroyed, we have never had a photo together."

I used to think that Irina wasn't into romance. She was different from most women, she never liked taking pictures.

Once, during a business trip, I saw some beautiful scenery along the way and suggested we take a picture together as a memento. But she pushed me away and scolded me in public, "Why do you have to follow every trend? Do you think you're still young?"

"People like you, living in the illusion of beauty filters, are destined to achieve nothing in life! What's the point of taking pictures? Stay away from me. Walking next to you is embarrassing enough!" After that, I never dared to suggest taking a photo together again.

In fact, I became so selfconscious that I'd lower my head whenever I faced a camera.

So, Chris was right, love and indifference are obvious.

Feeling awkward, Irina fell silent. The car became quiet, except for the soft clicking sound of the photo keychain of her and Chris.

We finally arrived at our destination. As soon as we got out of the car, Chris rushed into Irina's arms and said, "Irina, you're finally here. I've been waiting so long my legs are sore."

Irina immediately squatted down, took off his shoes and smilingly massaged his feet. I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture of them, capturing this 'beautiful' moment.

It was only then that Irina remembered my presence. She said casually, "I'm just … showing normal concern for a subordinate."

"I understand. Let's go eat," I replied.

When we entered the restaurant, the waiter greeted us warmly, "Mrs. Middleton, are you here again with your husband for dinner? The usual?"

Irina glanced at me and cleared her throat, "This is my actual husband," she corrected.

I didn't respond, just walked over to the table and sat down. Compared to the brandname clothes Chris was wearing, my plain attire didn't make me look like Irina's husband at all.

Once we were seated, Chris scooted his chair closer to Irina and took out an old watch from his designer bag and said, "Adrien, Irina gave me a new watch, so this old, secondhand one is for you. Consider it a peace offering. Don't be so petty about the wedding photo incident."

Irina looked a bit displeased and said, "I gave that to you."

She said again, "Adrien, if you like, I can buy you a new one. There's no need to compete with Chris over it. Besides, you stay at home washing clothes and cooking, you don't deserve such an expensive watch."

Chris smiled as he held Irina's hand and playfully whined, "Irina has given me so many gifts. One watch is nothing."

If this had been in the past, I would've demanded answers upon hearing such things. But now, I just calmly glanced at Chris and then lowered my head to send a message to my lawyer.

[I want to reclaim every penny Irina spent on her love], I typed. After receiving the lawyer's confirmation, I picked up my fork, feeling at ease.

When all the dishes were served, Irina, who usually refused to get her hands dirty with food, patiently peeled shrimp and deboned fish for Chris.

Chris gave me a smug look and said sarcastically, "Oh, Irina always takes care of me like this. Adrien, aren't you jealous? Irina, you should eat, too," he added, naturally handing her a shrimp he had already bitten into.

Without hesitation, Irina ate it, completely different from the woman who had once smashed her bowl in disgust when I offered her food, claiming it was unsanitary.

The sight of it made me too nauseous to eat. I slammed my fork down on the table in disgust.

"What's wrong with you now?" Irina's face was full of impatience. "I shouldn't have brought you along. You're just an embarrassing freeloader who's never seen the world!"

Chris glanced at me and then tugged on Irina's hand, whining about wanting to play tennis.

I frowned and refused. Every time I joined Irina for group activities, it left me with bad memories.

Chris said coldly, "You're such a buzzkill. No wonder Irina doesn't like you. You should learn to engage with the outside world. You're a grown man. You can't spend your whole life at home doing nothing, living off a woman."

I took a napkin and wiped my mouth and said, "I was young once too. At your age, I was out running the market, bringing in clients and building my own company. Unlike you, who spends your time clinging to someone else's wife."

As soon as I finished speaking, a glass of water was splashed in my face.

Irina quickly stood in front of Chris, shielding him, her finger angrily pointing at me and shouted, "Adrien, don't you dare push your luck. Look at yourself! What right do you have to compare yourself to Chris?"

"He graduated from a prestigious school. And you? You're a worthless parasite! What gives you the right to speak to him that way?"

I picked up my coffee, ready to throw it back at her when my phone buzzed.

It was a message from the lawyer, confirming that they had gathered enough evidence of Irina's infidelity, which could help me get a larger share of the assets.

"Aren't you listening to me? What are you looking at now?" Irina tried to grab my phone, but I spoke first, "Let's go play tennis."

Irina looked at Chris and when he nodded, she didn't ask any further questions.

On the way, Chris glanced at me disdainfully, "You sure know how to endure. Do you think this will save your marriage? Her heart hasn't been with you for a long time!"

Seeing his smug expression, I calmly replied, "You've got lipstick smudged on your face."

They had been fine during dinner, but after a trip to the bathroom, one of them had an open button on their shirt and the other had lipstick smeared on their face. Such a childish and clumsy trick.

I couldn't be bothered to argue. Once we reached the tennis court, I grabbed a racket and sat off to the side. I didn't know how to play tennis and frankly, I wasn't in the mood.

I kept my head down, chatting with the lawyer about the divorce. Irina never cared about how I felt, nor did she pay attention to what I was doing.

She and Chris played enthusiastically, wiping each other's sweat and handing each other water like a couple deeply in love. I looked up and snapped a few pictures of them, capturing their 'happiness.'

Just as I was starting to feel drowsy, a tennis ball flew straight toward me, hitting me square on the back of my head.

The world spun and I collapsed from my seat, landing on my knees.

"Adrien!" Irina dropped her racket and ran toward me.

When she saw her hands covered in my blood, her eyes were filled with panic, "I'll take you to the hospital."

"Irina, are you going to leave me behind again?" Chris looked at Irina pitifully.

I could already imagine it. Year after year, on birthdays, Valentine's Day, anniversaries, Chris had always managed to take Irina away from me, over and over again.

Seeing her hesitate, I pushed her away, "You two keep playing. I'm fine."

In the ten years we had been together, Irina had never once chosen me with certainty.

So this time, I wouldn't be the one left behind or ignored anymore. I made my own choice, to leave this humiliating marriage. To let go of this worthless woman.

Irina let out a slight sigh of relief, but she still pretended to show concern. She said, "You go ahead and get checked. I'll come see you once I'm done with my work. Don't be stingy, use the best for everything."

I left, holding my head, ignoring her empty words. Since I resigned, Irina had taken complete control of the family finances. Every expense had to be approved by her.

She could spend hundreds of thousands on luxury goods for Chris without batting an eye, but when I bought a new pair of shoes, she verbally lashed out at me, "You, a freeloader, dressing up like this, who are you trying to seduce? I work hard to make money, not for you to waste! If it happens again, you can go out on the street and beg!"

Over the years, her harsh words had wrapped around me like a curse, causing me headaches and selfdoubt.

But now, I finally understood, I deserve the best of everything. It was Irina who doesn't deserve me.

At the hospital, I was diagnosed with a mild concussion. I carefully followed the doctor's instructions and kept my medical records before going home to recover.

Irina, who had said she had prepared a gift to make up for things, suddenly messaged me in the evening, saying she had to go on a business trip.

She wrote: [I know you're not someone who complains. Back when you broke your leg helping me collect debts, you didn't even make a fuss. I'm sure you won't mind this time either.]

[Don't worry, I'll bring you a gift when I return.]

[I've also booked the best wedding photo package. If there's one you don't like, we'll retake it.]

I scrolled through our chat history. In ten years, this was the first time Irina had sent me so many messages.

Every other conversation was cold orders, telling me to do things for her. For her, this was already the extent of her humility.

In the past, I would have been thrilled, thinking I had finally melted the ice queen. But now, the only thing I cared about was how much I could get from the divorce.

While she was away, I spent my days going through the company accounts and her personal financial records. I printed every bit of evidence and sent it to my lawyer.

After several days of work, I finally had some free time. When I checked my phone, I found my feed flooded with Chris's posts. There were endless photos of him and Irina together.

They had gone on a beach vacation, with yachts and luxury cars, spending lavishly. His caption read, [Documenting the proof of our love.] I gave it a like and sent the evidence of their affair to my lawyer.

Judging by Chris's social media activity, they had already returned. But for some reason, Irina still hadn't come home.

On the scheduled day, my lawyer sent me all the documents. I checked the calendar and called Irina, "Are you coming home tomorrow?"

She reflexively lied, "There's a lot of work at the company …"

I didn't want to listen to her pathetic excuses, "Tomorrow is the anniversary of our baby's passing. You promised me you'd be there every year to pray." This had been our agreement.

At the time, I naively believed Chris's actions were accidental and that Irina was protecting him to preserve the company's reputation. Because of that, I hadn't pursued it further.

But now, it seemed that everything back then might have been a longplanned scheme.

Irina was silent for a moment before promising me, "You and our baby will always be the most important to me. No matter what, I'll be back tomorrow."

The next morning, I dressed in mourning clothes and went to the chapel. I waited throughout the entire ceremony, but Irina never showed up.

As I was leaving, I received a message from Chris: [She's pregnant and the baby is mine.]

[She'll never come back to you again.]

I blocked him immediately. Then, I took all the evidence and filed for divorce at the courthouse.

I also contacted the media to expose Irina's affair.