After My Husband Saved His Friend I Divorced Him

In the third year of secretly loving Leland, I married him. A year later, on the ski slopes, both his friend and I ended up in trouble. Leland raced to the scene, shielding his female friend as they tumbled to the ground. Lying on the snowy surface, I suddenly felt disenchanted. Things that have lost their meaning should simply be cast aside.

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For our first wedding anniversary, Leland and I traveled to the Alps. At his friend's private ski resort, I met Anya Sanchez. She was quite the opposite of what her name suggested—a woman whose appearance didn’t particularly stand out, yet she had an undeniable vibrant energy. Anya was excellent at extreme sports, and I heard she first met Leland on the slopes. Anya and I skied down one after the other. As we approached a corner, her ski pole unexpectedly fell. I tried to stop abruptly but couldn't, causing my ski to come off. Instinctively curling into a ball, I started to roll downhill, when a shadowy figure swiftly appeared from the side. The silver strap that flashed before my eyes was all too familiar; I had fastened it onto Leland just half an hour earlier. Leland dashed to Anya’s side, using just his arm strength to pull her back from spiraling out of control. My back collided painfully with the ski-track safety net, the pain blurring my vision as the crowd gasped.

Dizzy and disoriented, I saw Leland flipping over to shield Anya beneath him, snowflakes pelting his back relentlessly. I tilted my head, gasping for air, my mouth and nose filled with snow, cold and painful. As the snow melted with each breath, I lowered my head to find something warm dripping down. I stared at the red stain on the snow for a couple of seconds before realizing it was blood.