On our seventh wedding anniversary, I made Cheng Yan's favorite cream of mushroom soup.
But he called and said: "The project is urgent and we will stay up all night tonight. You can eat first."
I replied calmly: "Okay, remember to drink something hot."
After hanging up the phone, I finished my dinner quietly, washed the dishes, and then took out the divorce agreement that I had signed.
At two o'clock in the morning, he came home smelling of alcohol and having an unfamiliar perfume on his collar.
Seeing the documents on the coffee table, he sneered: "What kind of trick are you playing again?"
I pointed at the agreement and said softly: "Cheng Yan, the rose withered. It's because I didn't raise it well. I don't blame you."
