On my birthday, I saw a video on Douyin posted by my wife’s first love.
Red wine, a luxury car, and a limited-edition Patek Philippe on his wrist.
The first two were no problem, but that watch was supposed to be my wedding gift.
I stared at the video for a long time, telling myself not to do anything rash.
Then I went to the supermarket, bought a bottle of baijiu, and gulped it down as I numbly watched the clock on the wall, which hadn’t been replaced in seven years.
I really wanted to get dead drunk all by myself.
But after midnight, I clearly saw her first love pin another comment: “You only know what you had after it’s gone. Can we get back together?”
Furious, I swept the birthday feast off the table. I was just about to call and give that bastard a piece of my mind.
Had he never taken moral education in his nine years of compulsory schooling?
But I never expected that bastards always came in pairs.
