18 Delays Later: Too Late for Tears

My phone vibrated. It was a message from the law firm's HR department:

[Does Mr. Brooks know you're resigning?]

I walked out of the room, holding my phone. Ethan was still sitting at the dining table.

He stared at me with a strange expression, hesitating for a moment before testing the waters. "Why didn't you ask me for a reason this time?"

Only after replying to the HR manager did I finally look up at Ethan. "There's no point anymore."

I meant it literally.

The first time we had scheduled to register our marriage, his junior associate, Chelsea, suddenly claimed she had a stomachache. I waited on a bench outside City Hall from dawn till dusk, only to return home alone.

The second time, Chelsea said she didn't know how to format a case spreadsheet. Ethan pulled over and left me on the side of a busy highway, turning back to the office without a single glance behind.

Every single time we made an appointment to get our marriage certificate, Chelsea would invariably encounter some sort of emergency right on schedule.

We had been married for six months, and this same drama had played out seventeen times.

Ethan seemed choked up by my words. His Adam's apple bobbed as he remained silent for a moment. Then, he slid his phone across the table toward me.

"I notice a lot of couples hire a photographer to follow them around when they register their marriage," Ethan said. "Let's hire one too. Didn't you always love those little romantic gestures?"

So, he actually remembered that I cared about those special moments.

I thought about it and asked, "Are you free tonight? Let's have a..."

Before I could finish the words "farewell dinner," his phone started ringing.

It was his junior associate, Chelsea.

I couldn't hear what she said on the other end, but once the call ended, Ethan looked at me guiltily. "Honey, Chelsea just..."

I cut him off with a slight smile. "Just go. Drive safely."

Ethan froze, seemingly surprised by how calm I was today.

After a brief pause, he put on his coat and headed for the door. "I'll bring you a gift when I get back tonight."

The door slammed shut with a heavy thud, and soon the sound of a car engine starting faded into the distance downstairs.

I stood in the silence, staring at the closed door.

We had been in love for five years and married for six months.

In truth, I should have let go of this relationship a long time ago.

That afternoon, I went to the office and personally handed my resignation letter to the HR manager.

She looked at me, her face filled with regret and confusion.

"You and Mr. Brooks are the gold-medal duo of this firm," she said. "At your wedding six months ago, not only did the senior partners show up, but so many of our top clients came to congratulate you both. Everyone envied you two back then. Why are you suddenly leaving?"

My mind drifted back to that wedding six months ago.

There were over a hundred tables of guests, a red carpet stretching across the hall, and seas of fresh flowers. Ethan had held my hand and sworn to protect me for the rest of his life.

It had indeed been grand, and it had indeed been beautiful.

But no matter how grand and beautiful it was, there was no going back now.

By the time I finished the resignation process and returned home, it was already past ten o'clock in the evening.

The house was exceptionally cold and completely empty.

When I unlocked my phone, a social media post from Chelsea immediately popped up.

She had explicitly tagged me.

"Thank you, Mentor, for staying by my side all afternoon. To repay you, tomorrow I'm taking you to a concert!"