Sold His Dreams, Then Walked Out on Him

After work, I went back to our sprawling mansion.

I had bought this place entirely with the hard-earned commissions I made from entertaining clients and working myself to the bone selling properties.

The down payment alone had wiped out three full years of my savings, and the mortgage ran over 20,000 dollars a month.

Back when we were still in our hometown, Ryan used to envy people who owned houses like this.

I remembered that, and I made it happen.

But standing here in this empty living room, all I felt was a chill.

I took a shower and was heading out to grab a bite to eat. While putting on my shoes at the entryway, I noticed a bottle of gastro medication sitting on top of the shoe rack.

Ryan had a terrible stomach. Whenever he drank, it flared up so badly he would break out in a cold sweat. He never went anywhere without these pills.

He must've been in such a rush to leave today that he forgot them.

I stared at the bottle, my hand hovering in mid-air.

When we first started in the industry, he began drinking with clients every single day. I had told him not to push himself so hard, but he refused to listen, insisting he could handle it.

One night, he downed over half a pint of hard liquor and threw up the second he came home.

Then, the stomach pains hit. Ryan was drenched in sweat from the pain and curled up on the couch.

That night, I crouched outside the emergency room, unable to stop crying.

After debating with myself, I finally picked up the bottle of medicine, hailed a taxi, and headed toward the restaurant where his reunion was being held.

I didn't plan on crashing the party. My plan was simply to drop the pills off at the front desk and text him to come down and pick them up.

But as I walked past a partially open private room, the roaring laughter echoing from inside made me freeze in my tracks.

"Hey, isn't your Millie getting promoted again? She's making two million a year now. That's incredible!"

"Oh, please. It's nothing compared to your wife. She got her master's degree abroad and is currently employed at a state-owned enterprise."

It was Ryan's old classmates, aggressively sizing each other up.

Standing out in the hallway listening to them, I found the whole display completely meaningless.

Suddenly, someone turned the conversation toward Ryan, their tone dripping with subtle mockery.

"Ryan, what happened to that wife of yours? You know, the one who dropped out of school to work for you? Why isn't she here tonight?"

The corners of my mouth tugged into a smile outside the door.

Ryan had dragged me to one of his reunions once, and I had overheard two people talking in the restroom.

"Why on earth would Ryan marry a woman like that? She barely finished high school. What does he even see in her?"

I hadn't told Ryan back then because I didn't want him to be stuck in an awkward position.

This time, I assumed Ryan would brush it off like he usually did, or at least attempt to smooth things over for me.

Instead, a brief silence stretched through the room before his voice drifted out, light and completely unbothered.

"Don't bring her up. We divorced ages ago. We move in completely different social circles. We couldn't make it work."

Those words felt like a slap to my face.

Divorced ages ago? When on earth had we gotten a divorce?

Just this morning, he was calling me his wife, but by nightfall, I was someone he had "divorced ages ago."

"Oh, my God. You got divorced? Then who are you with now?"

His classmates gasped, their voices instantly alive with curiosity.

"Let me introduce her."

Ryan's voice rang out again, laced with a hint of pride. "This is Lucinda Brooks. She holds a master's degree from an international university, and she is… my new wife."

The room erupted.

"Wow! You sure are sneaky, Ryan!"

"I knew it. I was wondering why you brought such a stunning woman tonight. Turns out you traded up a long time ago!"

Just then, Lucindia spoke in fluent Iridian. She said something to the server, apparently ordering a replacement bottle of red wine.

The server responded with absolute deference.

I looked through the crack in the door.

Lucinda was leaning her head casually against Ryan's shoulder, and Ryan was looking down at her with a tender smile plastered across his face.

All of a sudden, I felt like the past six years of my life had been an utter joke.

I genuinely believed that all the hardship and suffering I endured had been worth it.

I honestly thought he was different from the rest of them, that he would never look down on my education, and that he would never care about my background.

But they were all the same.

He was just a lot better at playing the part and managed to keep the mask on a little bit longer.