On the day I went for my prenatal checkup, I saw Fu Li embracing his old flame and kissing her passionately without a care in the world.
When he realized I was there, he only paused for a moment, then looked at me with a casual smile.
His old flame looked at me with a hint of hostility.
"Young Master Fu, who is she?"
"A friend."
The next moment, I turned and walked away without hesitation. There was only one reason: ours was a marriage built on pure hatred.
He hated me for cutting off any chance he had with his old flame.
I hated him because he had never loved me.
That night, Fu Li came home and handed me a divorce agreement.
"Qingqing's miscarriage made the news. She needs a husband."
"You were only taking Qingqing's place in the first place. This is just returning what belongs to its rightful owner."
I felt neither sadness nor resentment. I simply signed my name calmly.
"Fu Li, I'm letting you go."
I had already died once. There was nothing left for me to cling to.
