A Love Without Anchor

"Sir, the divorce agreement from the safe."

On their fifth wedding anniversary, in a dimly-lit restaurant, Xavier Hampton's secretary placed the divorce papers in front of him.

Five years ago, on the day Elizabeth Eaton and he registered their marriage—

She had loved him deeply. So deeply that she had prepared the divorce agreement in advance, signed her name, and locked it away in the safe. If she ever betrayed him, all he had to do was sign.

Xavier picked up the pen and swiftly signed his name.

Across from him, the empty seat seemed heavier than any presence. His gaze dimmed.

"Send the divorce papers to Attorney Harvey," he said, his voice calm, almost detached. "Then book a hotel and have the wedding venue set up in advance."

The secretary hesitated for a moment before carefully asking, "Whose names should I write as the bride and groom?"

"Elizabeth Eaton and Connor Walker."

A brief silence followed. Connor Walker was Elizabeth's first love.

The secretary's voice wavered. "Sir, when should the wedding take place?"

Xavier turned his gaze to the window. For an hour, blue fireworks had been lighting up the night sky. Now, the final sparks faded, leaving behind a message in midair.

"Elizabeth & Xavier, Happy Fifth Wedding Anniversary."

He withdrew his gaze, pressed his lips together, and said, "Seven days from now. Also, book me a flight to Neirway for that day."

"Neirway?" The secretary was startled, hesitated, then urged, "Sir, perhaps you should reconsider?"

Five years ago, on the day of their marriage, aside from the divorce agreement Elizabeth willingly signed, his parents—who had settled in Neirway—had added a condition.

They offered a sum of fifty million, but only if she signed a prenuptial agreement: If Xavier ever left the marriage wounded, returning to Neirway alone, Elizabeth would be barred from stepping foot in Neirway for the rest of her life.

She would have no chance to make amends.

"No need to reconsider." Xavier shook his head.

Seven days later, on his birthday, he would leave Elizabeth behind and fly to Neirway. At the same time, he would arrange for her and Connor's wedding, fulfilling their love story.

After his secretary left, Xavier's phone vibrated.

A notification popped up.

Elizabeth had used the company's official account to post a photo of blue fireworks, tagging him in the caption.

[My dear husband, happy fifth wedding anniversary. Love you forever.]

Within seconds, the post exploded, comments flooding in beyond count.

[Wow, I was wondering why there was an hour-long fireworks show tonight at Lieutt City. Turns out it was Elizabeth Eaton's gift to her husband!]

[Five years of marriage, and she still declares her love so boldly every year.]

[I heard that last year, after a major surgery, she wasn't fully conscious when she woke up. The first thing she asked was if her husband had eaten lunch on time. Even the nurses were moved to tears.]

Among the sea of comments, Elizabeth personally replied to one: [Xavier is my husband. Loving him and taking care of him is my duty as his wife.]

Instantly, admiration and envy surged through the replies.

But the man at the center of all this had no expression as he stared at the empty seat across from him.

There was a time when he and Elizabeth had truly been in love.

Seven years together, never a single argument.

For seven years, as a powerful CEO, Elizabeth had given him both wealth and unwavering affection.

And then, a month ago, the night she left for a business trip, everything shattered.

That night, she sent him a voice message. When he played it, he didn't hear her voice.

Instead, a man's low chuckle echoed through the speaker.

"I've been back for six months. One little gesture, and she fell for me again. She prepared blue fireworks for me tonight, but I don't like blue. Rather than waste them, I told her to give them to you for your anniversary."

Back then, Xavier hadn't known who the man was.

Two weeks later, at a gathering, Elizabeth walked into the private room with him.

With a bright, easygoing smile, she introduced the man. "This is Connor Walker, a distant cousin of mine."

Connor's elegant face held a warm expression as he greeted Xavier cheerfully.

"Hey, I've been back for over six months, and I finally get to meet you, cousin-in-law."

His voice—it was the same voice from the recording.

Xavier's mind went blank.

Later that night, unable to stay any longer, he left early.

That night, Elizabeth returned home drunk. His phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number.

[It got a little intense at the rooftop tonight. I lost control a little. Left some marks on her.]

[Not gonna lie, my ex is something else. She'll try any position.]

Xavier glanced at Elizabeth, passed out on their bed. Her blouse was unbuttoned, revealing fresh scratches across her bosom.

She was still wearing the white shirt—the custom-made couple's shirt he had gifted her for their anniversary last year.

On the collar, he had personally embroidered the word "Wife."

That night, when she received the shirt, she had held his hand and made a promise.

"Xavier, whenever I wear this, I'll remind myself to stay away from other men. I'll stay loyal to you forever."

Now, that same shirt carried a scent thick with passion.

Today marked five years of their marriage.

He arrived at the restaurant first. Five minutes later, his phone rang.

Elizabeth said, "I have a surprise for you. I won't make it in time for dinner, so enjoy the fireworks on your own."

She hung up quickly.

Two minutes later, she sent a photo.

When he opened it, she was sitting at a candlelit dinner table with Connor.

Fresh flowers, red wine, an atmosphere dripping with romance.

Now, as Xavier looked at her public anniversary post, he imagined her curled up in Connor's arms, typing out those words.

[My dear husband, happy fifth wedding anniversary. Love you forever.]