Love, Broken, and Found

Rumor had it that Jeff and Larissa's fight was about me.

I just smiled, indifferent.

I wasn't that hopeless romantic anymore, the one who used to refresh social media dozens of times a day, stalking them and everyone who knew them, hoping to catch the tiniest crack in their relationship.

If I succeeded, I would then rush to Jeff the second I thought he might need me, ready to remind him that I was the one who truly loved him.

Couples who are really in love argue in bed and make up before breakfast.

So what if the fight was about me? I had always just been another player in their little game anyway.

Still, after that, Jeff started calling me more and more.

But I either hung up immediately or found some excuse not to see him.

Then, the day before I was leaving the country, he asked me to go to the concert with him.

"I already got the tickets. I'll see you tonight. It's our anniversary today. You're not gonna stand me up, are you?"

He had never sounded so pleading before.

Before, he would casually bring up something or take one step toward me, and I would run toward him the rest of the way, trying to please him. But in the end, I realized he had even stopped getting close, all because of Larissa.

I didn't even know what to say because today wasn't really our anniversary.

It was the day of our fourth remarriage. After so many cycles of breaking up and getting back together, only I would be stupid enough to keep track of every single detail about him.

Still, I said yes. I really did want to see the concert.

That night, I waited at the venue, but Jeff never showed up.

I opened the voice message he had just sent me. His apologetic voice was layered over the noise of the concert, faintly mixed with Larissa's light laughter.

"Sorry. Larissa suddenly felt a little sick. I had to take her to the hospital. We'll have plenty of anniversaries in the future anyway. After Larissa leaves tomorrow, I'll do anything you want, okay?"

The concert finally started. The music drifted through the stadium, soft and melodic.

I closed the messaging app and, for the first time in a month, opened social media.

A photo Larissa had just posted popped right up—it was her selfie with Jeff at the concert.

The music continued, as if mocking me for still holding out hope for him when I agreed to the concert and during the journey here.

And now, that tiny hope was completely gone.

After divorcing him seven times, I should have known by now.

At least this time, it was the last.

With nothing left holding me back, I went to the airport and sat there all night.

By 7 a.m., I had checked in.

Jeff messaged me, asking when we'd remarry. I didn't reply and deleted him from my contacts.

By 8 a.m., I was in line for boarding.

He called, but I didn't answer. I blocked his number.

By 9 a.m., I was on the plane.

The flight attendant instructed everyone to switch to airplane mode. Right then, Scarlett called.

Jeff's anxious voice came through the phone. "Helen, where are you?"