Stranded for His Mistress on Our Anniversary

The following day, Victor still hadn't come home. I grabbed a quick breakfast of a dinner roll and coffee and headed to the office. On the way there, my phone buzzed with a message from him.

"Francesca, why didn’t you make my breakfast?"

"Is it because I didn't spend Thanksgiving with you yesterday?"

"Why do you always have to blow things out of proportion?"

Victor has stomach issues, and no matter how much we argued, I always remembered to make his meals. I never imagined it would become something he took for granted. Instead of replying, I blocked his number. In truth, I should have ended this relationship long ago.

Everything changed when Colette entered the picture with her list of demands. No matter what was on it, Victor fulfilled every wish. There was the time he left me stranded at a rest stop or stood me up on my birthday or vanished halfway through a movie. We argued constantly, but Victor would justify it by saying: “Francesca, Colette got hurt saving me when we were kids. I promised to always be there for her. Do you really expect me to go back on my word?"

"Besides, these are all minor things, aren't they? Helping a friend shouldn't be such a big deal."

Initially, I bought into his excuses, but these minor issues snowballed into major ones: fetching medicine when she was sick or taking leave from work to accompany her on trips. As his girlfriend, I could only watch him grow closer to another woman. If I ever voiced my discontent, Victor would accuse me of being petty and immature, claiming that without Colette, he wouldn't be here today.

I held on, thinking that once all the requests were fulfilled, Victor and I could return to normalcy. But now I realize how mistaken I was. Blocking Victor brought unexpected serenity into my life. I refocused on work and messaged my manager: "Wesley, is that overseas position still open?"

A month ago, my boss proposed an overseas assignment, promising that after three years, my salary would double. I turned it down because I couldn't bear to leave Victor. My ultimate dream was to build a future with him. Despite the obstacles, leaving was never part of my plan.

Now, I've decided to let go.

My manager quickly replied: "Francesca, are you ready to go now? That's wonderful! I can't think of anyone better for the role than you. If you're willing, it's perfect."

With the overseas assignment settled, I threw myself into work. That evening, as I was leaving the office, I spotted Victor's familiar black sedan parked at the entrance. I tried to walk past as if I hadn't noticed, but Victor stepped out and blocked my path.

"Francesca, I've booked a restaurant to celebrate your birthday today." Ignoring any attempt at refusal, he led me to the car. It was rush hour, and I wanted to avoid making a scene, so I climbed into the back seat.

Victor looked slightly tense over such a trivial matter. “Francesca, sit up front today…”

I casually replied, "The back is more comfortable."

Before, I always took the front passenger seat. But one time, Colette joined us for dinner. Afterwards, I instinctively opened the passenger door, only for Colette to quickly add another demand: "Victor's passenger seat belongs to Colette."

Such a simple sentence, and I hadn't sat there since. I argued with Victor about it. He merely furrowed his brow and said, "It’s just a seat, Francesca. Does it really matter where you sit? Can you stop making it difficult?"

I closed my eyes, hoping to avoid further conflict, but as soon as the air conditioning kicked in, I started sneezing uncontrollably. The vents carried a strong, unfamiliar perfume scent. Once the sneezing subsided, I noticed the car had changed significantly since I’d last been inside. The dashboard was cluttered with little toys, and clothes and cosmetics were strewn across the back seat.

I once wanted to place a protective charm in Victor’s car. He scolded me, saying, "Francesca, if you want me to drive safely, don’t clutter my car with things that block my view!"

It wasn’t the items that bothered him, it was me.

I looked at Victor again and noticed that he wore a wedding ring, alongside a matching wristwatch. An “M” tattoo peeked from his neck, and a sparkling ruby earring adorned his ear—a piercing he once vowed never to get.

I used to overlook these details, but now I couldn’t ignore how Colette’s list had utterly transformed Victor. Though each wish seemed minor, they left visible marks on every aspect of our relationship. Those marks felt like sand in my eyes, constantly grating.

But now, as I looked at Victor, imprinted with Colette’s traces, I realized that even though there wasn’t anything I could do, those once painful little things didn’t irritate me as much anymore.

Seeing me no longer sneezing, he said: “Colette’s list is finished now. We won’t argue anymore because of her requests. Just relax and don’t hold grudges against me.”

Is that really true?

Thinking about their extravagant wedding and his friends’ congratulations only made me chuckle.

I replied indifferently, "Oh."

Then Victor's phone rang. The car’s dashboard displayed "Colette Darling."

He tapped the button to answer, and her voice filled the car. “Victor, can you come pick me up? I'm stranded in the suburbs without a ride and feeling scared…”

Her voice began to shake.

Victor quickly calmed her, "Colette, don’t worry. Send me your location, and I’ll be right there."

Listening to his anxious tone, it was clear that, even though the list was completed, their bond wouldn’t end.

After the call ended, Victor glanced at me in the rearview mirror, hesitant. “Let’s pick up Colette and have dinner together. More people make for a lively celebration.”

I declined, “Just drop me off at the next stop. I’ll head home myself; I’m worn out today.”

Victor’s temper flared at my response. “Francesca, why do you always have to be so difficult? Do you even get how unsafe it is for Colette to be out there alone?!”

“You choose the worst times to make a fuss. Do you find joy only when she’s in danger?”

I replied coolly, “I’m not stopping you from helping her. I’m just exhausted. Why do you assume I wish her harm?”

Victor lost interest in arguing and instead gave me an ultimatum.

“Francesca, you can either come with me or get out now.”

Hearing this, I smirked bitterly.

We were on the highway, and if Victor left me here, catching a ride would be unlikely. I’d struggle just to safely exit the highway.

My bitter smile seemed to infuriate him completely. He pulled onto the emergency lane, got out, and dragged me from the car.

“Fine, if you don’t want to go, then get home on your own.”

With that, he drove off without looking back, leaving me stranded.