Chapter 3

Those present seemed surprised that I wasn't going tit-for-tat with Patrick for once; after all, just four months earlier, I had confronted him at the airport—even if the media had mocked me afterward as the bitter, cast-off spouse.

Patrick, Jasmine, and I landed in Harborough simultaneously. I was the one going home for the New Year without a wife by my side, while Patrick was the adopted brother who had just returned from a vacation with Jasmine accompanying him.

Throughout our five-year marriage, I spent the first four New Years away from home. Jasmine claimed she had to stay at her family's place to respect their customs and that I was required to do the same.

I insisted that I was going back this year, no matter what. Jasmine didn't even bother looking up from what she was doing. "I need to prioritize my family here, so you'll have to go back alone."

Mom and Dad were thrilled to see me, and the whole family gathered around to ask how I was doing and how my marriage was going. I could only make excuses and say Jasmine was busy whenever she was brought up.

I wanted to call her so that she could at least greet Mom and Dad, but no matter how many times I dialed, the calls went unanswered.

I eventually came across a photo of Patrick at the beach posted online, with the caption, "Thanks for being an amazing photographer, Jasmine!"

I turned around and saw Mom and Dad looking at me from inside with such warmth and expectation, and for the very first time, I felt completely exhausted.

I suddenly got curious at that point. "You claimed you were busy and didn't have time to come home with me, yet you had time to go play photographer for Patrick. Do you two even have a concept of boundaries? You're not biological siblings—and you're a married woman, Jasmine.

"Patrick complains about some ache or illness every few days. He can pull you away with a single phone call, even when we're in the middle of an intimate moment, and he talks to you while you're in the shower. Don't you think this is too much, Jasmine?"

Jasmine's expression hardened. "Patrick is nothing more than a brother to me, Henry. Get your mind out of the gutter! Do you want to be a laughingstock in the media again? Haven't you had enough of making a fool of yourself?"

Patrick, apparently overwhelmed by my accusations, stood to the side with his eyes downcast, his face completely pale.

Jasmine, without any hesitation, clamped down hard on my arm. "You'd better apologize to Patrick this instant, Henry!"

I let out a bitter laugh, tears blurring my vision. "Why should I apologize to the man who wrecked my marriage and tore my family apart, Jasmine?"

Jasmine's grip tightened, as though she meant to flay a layer of skin from me. She then leaned in closer, staring right into my eyes, and asked, emphasizing every word, "What do you mean by tearing your family apart? Get this straight, Henry—if you hadn't married me, someone else would have.

"Patrick and I grew up together; he and I are the family that will never change. You'd better not forget that I told you long ago I don't love you; this marriage was something you begged for yourself."

I first met Jasmine on a snow-capped mountain, where we got caught in a decent-sized blizzard. Jasmine, riding a snowboard, grabbed me by the wrist. "Come with me."

It could have been the psychological reliance that comes with fear, or maybe it was genuine love at first sight—the moment Jasmine looked back at me and told me not to worry, my heart skipped a beat.

I eventually inquired about Jasmine on campus, prompting one of my classmates to wink at me and say, "Oh, that stunning Alurian woman! She's just as popular as you, Henry! You two would look good together!"

I pursued Jasmine for a long time, pouring in time, money, and energy just like all the relationship guides advised. I gave her everything I had to offer.

One day, Jasmine approached me with the news that Patrick, her adopted brother, was terribly sick and that my profile was a compatible match to his.

I looked at her sincere profile and placed my finger right between her furrowed brows. "I'm willing to donate, but I have a single condition—I want to marry you. I want you to try to fall in love with me, Jasmine."

Jasmine extended her hand to give me a pinky promise, and just like that, in a completely informal setting, we sealed the deal on our marriage.

I had expected love to blossom after all our time together, believing that genuine sincerity could conquer any resistance. It turned out that all those years were nothing more than my own one-sided illusion, a completely self-destructive obsession.