The 99th Divorce Agreement

A locked metal box had appeared in the nightstand beside the bed in the master bedroom.

Inside were every single divorce agreement Gary had given me over the past five years.

Today, the 99th agreement finally arrived.

My fingers trembled as I typed on my phone, but my face stayed calm.

"Will you be home for dinner tonight?"

Today was the 5th anniversary of my marriage to Gary.

By now, I knew the routine.

He would leave me behind and take Priscilla to the most expensive restaurant in Starborough for a perfect evening.

Just like always, this time was no different.

"Probably not," he said casually. "Today's kind of special. I don't want her to get jealous. Then I'd have to spend the whole night calming her down. It'd be too much trouble."

I nodded and said nothing. I simply watched him leave.

Only after he disappeared from sight did I finally let out a quiet sigh.

Then I picked up a pen and carefully signed my name on the 99th divorce agreement.

-

That night, with the divorce papers I had waited so long for finally in my hands, I drank until I was completely drunk.

When the alcohol hit its peak, my mind drifted back five years.

Back then, I had just won a full scholarship through my own hard work. My future felt bright.

Then, suddenly, someone doctored sultry photos of me and spread them across every corner of the college forum. At my lowest moment, Gary held my hand and went door to door through the dorms, confronting the people spreading those photos.

He demanded that they apologize and clear my name.

I still remembered how warm his hand felt that day. It was so warm that it felt as if it had burned straight into my heart.

"As long as I'm here," he told me, "no one gets to bully you."

Later, he proposed to me 99 times, and I gave up my chance to study overseas.

On our wedding day, when he saw me in my wedding dress, he cried so hard that he could barely speak.

He said marrying me was the greatest blessing of his life. He promised he would treat me well forever, that he would make me the happiest woman in the world.

Back then, every word sounded sincere.

What I didn't understand then was that people change pretty easily.

I finished the last sip of wine in my glass and staggered toward the master bedroom.

From the nightstand, I took out the small safe that held the agreements.

The password was 0105, the date Gary and I got married.

I had carefully labeled each agreement, from the first to the ninety-eighth with its number and date.

One was from the night of Priscilla's birthday.

Another was from Valentine's Day, when they went to Rivermoor to watch the snow. Gary had his assistant deliver it to the house.

And one was during my mother's birthday party.

Gary had slipped it into the gift box he brought for her. It nearly got discovered.

That was the only time Gary panicked after publicly admitting he was cheating.

He knew my mother was the kind of woman who couldn't tolerate infidelity.

When my father cheated years ago, she had packed her bags and walked out with three-year-old me without hesitation.

Of course, she could do the same again and force me to divorce her worthless son-in-law.

So, that night at the birthday party, Gary acted like a completely different person. He stayed glued to my side the entire evening.

Priscilla called again and again, but he rejected every call. He was terrified my mother would notice something.

What he didn't know was that I was even more nervous than he was.

My mother's illness required money. A lot of it. So, I couldn't afford to divorce him yet.

That night, to everyone watching, we looked like the perfect couple, one of the rare true love stories in high society.

But only I knew how fake my smile really was.

Still… It was all over now.

I touched the locket around my neck. Inside was a small black-and-white photo.

It was my mother's memorial portrait.

Three months ago, a video of Gary and Priscilla kissing in an underground parking garage exploded online.

It shot straight to the top of the trending lists.

My mother saw it and couldn't catch her breath.

And just like that, she was gone.

I didn't even get the chance to see her one last time.

Tears fell onto the papers as I slowly pulled out my phone and made a call to someone across the ocean.

"I got the divorce agreement. I'll pack tomorrow and leave the day after."