On the day of my first wedding anniversary, I stood backstage at the Golden Crane Awards holding a handmade mango cake, waiting to give my legal husband and my childhood sweetheart Shen Yan a belated anniversary surprise.
Then I heard him speaking to the national live broadcast camera with a calm tone: "I am currently single and have no plans for a relationship."
The whole audience burst into laughter, and the camera glanced at his noble and cold profile. No one knew that his wife, who had been secretly married for a year, was standing in the background. The cream on the cake melted in the palm of my hand, as sticky as the marriage I deceived myself this year. I clutched the divorce agreement that I had already signed in my pocket and suddenly smiled.
No one knows that the screenplay for the movie in which he won the Best Actor award tonight was written by my anonymous pseudonym; that three years ago he was trapped in a car accident and trapped in a sea of fire, and it was me who broke the car window and dragged him out; that even in Starlight Entertainment, which he is proud of, I hold more shares than he does.
No one knows that twenty years ago, the little kid next door who was always following me, crying and asking me to protect him, once grabbed the corner of my clothes and said, "Sister Wanwan, I will marry you in the future."
The next day, # Single# became the top trending search topic. I knocked on the door of his office with the divorce agreement, and slapped the paper on the table under his stunned eyes: "Actor Shen, if you wish, get a divorce."
Later, the man who never bowed his head while standing on the altar stood all night in the heavy rain downstairs of my apartment. He grabbed my wrist with red eyes and said in a hoarse voice: "Wanwan, I was wrong. I have liked you for fifteen years. Can you come back?"
