Chapter 3

Yelena didn't refuse, nor did she nod. She just stopped packing and walked into the bathroom.

I threw a few changes of clothes into a backpack.

Walking toward the front door, I looked back one last time. The anniversary balloons in the living room were still inflated, and the presents remained neatly stacked on the table. The fireworks had long since faded, leaving nothing but a dreary gray sky outside the window.

Just as I was about to leave, Yelena came out of the bathroom and called after me, "Forget it. Hotels are definitely fully booked anyway, and you have nowhere to go. Just stay one more night."

Fearing I might misunderstand, she added, "I haven't changed my mind. I just figured you had nowhere to go, and you wouldn't be able to get a room anyway."

I grunted in reply.

"I won't stay here," she continued. "I'll leave tomorrow. If you don't want to stay here either, just list it for auction."

"Yelena," I called out.

As I leaned against the foyer wall, it suddenly hit me that for most of my life, I had never once been unserious with her.

"What if I don't agree right now? What if I push back and refuse to divorce you? What could you possibly do about it?"

She looked up at me for a few seconds.

Then, her lips curved into a calm, faint smile. "You won't."

She was right.

I wouldn't.

In 15 years, I had never even had the heart to raise my voice during an argument. How could I ever force her into anything?

Yelena and I had known each other since we were 16.

That year, during our second year of high school, I ranked first in our grade. Yelena had cornered me in the hallway holding a basketball and hurled it straight into my back.

"Kendrick, you've been sitting in that top spot every single time. Don't you think you've been hogging it for long enough?"

I gave a light chuckle. Everyone in our grade called her the "eternal runner-up".

She was 11 points behind me, and every point was a hard-fought battle. Bridging an 11-point gap was no easy feat.

Handing the basketball back to her, I casually replied, "Then take it from me next time."

Later, she actually did it.

On the day the final exam results were posted, my name sat right beneath hers.

I was 11 points lower—exactly the margin I had held over her before.

A crowd had gathered in front of the bulletin board. Standing right at the front, she tilted her head up, turned back to look at me, and laughed with complete abandon.

It was as if she were saying, "I did it."

Now, I stared into her unbothered, lifeless eyes.

It felt like forever since I'd seen that dazzling version of Yelena.

After we got married, she helped me start the company and gave up her own passions. That vibrant, youthful smile had vanished for good back then.

I forced a bitter smile and said nothing more. I simply slung my backpack over my shoulder and headed into the guest room.

The next morning, hearing noise in the living room, I opened the guest room door. Yelena was standing in the foyer with a suitcase, wearing a coat I'd never seen before.

I recognized that suitcase. We had bought it together when we got married. It was bright red, because she said red was her lucky color.

After ten years, the wheels were worn and dragged a bit to the side, but she had never been willing to replace it.

She paused when she saw me come out, then bent down to tie her shoelaces.

"Where… are you planning to go?" It felt strange to ask, but I did anyway.

Yelena tied her laces, adjusted her coat, and reached for the doorknob.

"To the ends of the earth. Anywhere without you."

"Okay." I didn't push any further and just watched her leave.

After she was gone, I sold the house and made a trip back to my old home.

Calling it "home" was a stretch. It was just my parents' old place in my hometown. I hadn't been back in years.

Back then, I had effectively cut ties with my family for Yelena's sake.

Dad said I was spineless for throwing away my relationship with my family for a woman and that it wasn't worth it.

Mom cried as she begged me to just come back and take the civil service exam since I'd already finished college. Why keep suffering out there?

I didn't listen.

I snuck out my birth certificate, registered our marriage, and hosted dinner for a few friends at a single dinner table in our tiny rental. That was our wedding.

From then on, contact with my family faded away.

I'd call during holidays, but Mom would just say a few words before breaking down in tears, and Dad would never answer.

Eventually, even the calls stopped.

I thought that once we made it, once I proved myself, once I bought a house and a car, and once I started my own company, Mom and Dad would forgive me.

I thought they would see that their son had made the right choice and that my wife was worth it.

But when I finally stood in front of the old house, the door was locked. The padlock was completely rusted over.

An elderly neighbor peeked out from her window, squinting at me for a long moment before recognizing who I was. "Are you… the Tucker family's son?"

"Yes, ma'am. It's me."

"Oh my goodness. You're finally back."

She sighed, shaking her head. "Your parents passed away years ago. Didn't you know? Young man, no matter how bad the feud was, you should've come back to see them one last time."

I didn't know.

I really didn't know.

My wife was gone, my parents were gone, and I no longer had a home.

I crouched by the doorstep and suddenly broke into silent, ragged tears.

"Yelena, my love for you has lasted 15 years, too," I thought.