Chapter 2 The 24th Birthday Wish to Stop Loving

I loved Nora deeply.

I couldn't remember how many years I'd spent standing behind her and watching her back.

Even though I wanted a divorce, I still remembered the moment I fell for her at first sight beneath the catwalk.

Center stage, spotlighted in a crimson gown, she walked with pride, timing her steps to the beat of the music. She approached me like a burning sunset.

Or like a firework about to burst and reveal its first flash of brilliance. I knew she would only grow more magnificent and dazzling.

Her fierce presence stole the gaze of every spectator.

The vibrant hem brushed past my fingertips, and I fell love with her at first sight.

But why did she fall for Simon of all people?

This proud woman would bring Simon breakfast every day like a servant.

She knitted him scarves with her own hands and placed them around his neck. Even when he tossed them into the trash with disdain, her face remained radiant with smiles.

Though born into privilege, she wasn't a spoiled heiress who threw money around. She poured her heart and soul into Simon, even as he flippantly trampled her devotion underfoot.

Throughout our four years at university, I witnessed countless scenes of Nora pursuing Simon.

I always believed that they would eventually marry after all their back-and-forth.

But three years ago, at the wedding meant for Nora and Simon, Simon didn't show up.

Dressed in an angelic, pristine white gown, Nora frantically dialed Simon's number countless times.

But a woman finally answered, "Simon's still sleeping. What do you need?"

Before she finished, Nora snapped the phone off. She lowered her eyes, and just as everyone exchanged glances, Nora picked up the receiver.

"Today, I, Nora, am switching grooms. Is there any gentleman interested?"

I, someone who always shied away from the spotlight, stood up the moment Nora finished speaking. I chose to join her in this madness.

That day, walking arm in arm with her, I felt like a dream. In a chapel as beautiful as heaven, we exchanged rings with deep reverence.

The men's ring didn't quite fit my finger, but I didn't care.

The guests below was stunned into silence, whispering about my malicious motives.

I stood unwaveringly by Nora's side.

After the ceremony, I had someone pull Simon from the waterbed and beat him.

For the next three years, Nora and I maintained a polite distance.

That changed at the class reunion when Simon reappeared before Nora.

As I watched her, her thoughts drifting and her senses barely holding on yet still being drawn irresistibly toward Simon, I finally realized the dream was over.

It was time to divorce her.

With dew heavy on my clothes, I rose and brushed them off. While waiting for Nora that evening, my phone flickered on and off repeatedly.

Finally, I sent her a message:

The document I had you sign earlier is in the passenger-side glove compartment. Right where you can reach it.

After waiting half an hour, Nora finally replied with a voice message.

When I tapped to listen, I heard Simon's voice.

"Nora's resting. No work talk."

Immediately after, he sent a series of photos from Nora's phone.

They were pictures of him and Nora together.

By the poolside, Nora's expression shifted from reluctance to resignation to delight. Finally, she wrapped her arms around Simon's waist, her eyes filled with utter devotion.

The photos revealed the truth about who Nora truly loved.

I felt painful when I looked at them, so I turned off my phone.

I had intended to delete some post-wedding updates when I discovered that the photos of me and Nora had only ever appeared in my own social feed.

Good. There wasn't much I could do.

I turned off my phone, got up, and headed into the kitchen to prepare a salad.

Just as dinner was ready, Nora suddenly returned.

Seeing the cake in her hands, I froze for a moment.

"You don't like sweets, do you? Why did you buy a cake all of a sudden?"

Nora walked over, spotted my dinner, and frowned slightly.

"Today's your birthday. Did you forget? Why such a simple meal?"

I was stunned.

My parents divorced when I was four or five, leaving me with my grandmother.

When I was fifteen or sixteen, she passed away. I stopped celebrating birthdays altogether.

But in the three years since I married Nora, she has remembered every single one. No matter how busy she was, she’d rush back to celebrate with me.

When I returned from long trips, she worried about my safety and made a point to pick me up at the airport.

During thunderstorms, knowing about my fear, she’d gently pull me close.

I thought all this care and affection meant she liked me.

Until our one-month wedding anniversary. She canceled our planned candlelit dinner, claiming she had work on set.

Feeling dejected, I went to the bar to deliver a jacket to Leo and unexpectedly ran into Simon.

He was extremely drunk, clutching Nora, who was supposed to work overtime on set, and refused to let go.

Nora's face darkened as she furiously pulled herself away.

"Simon! Stop acting like a child! Let go! What do you take me for? Some toy you can toss aside and pick up whenever you please?"

Simon ignored her, stubbornly wrapping his hands around her waist again after she pushed them away.

He repeated the act time and again, seemingly finding joy in it.

Finally, Nora surrendered.

She stood frozen, gazing down at him with eyes brimming with restrained affection. Her voice was utterly defeated.

"Simon, what on earth am I supposed to do with you?"

In that instant, the bag in my hand fell limply to the ground.

A flood of images rushed through my mind:

Hands clasped tightly in a crowded street, an umbrella tilted against a downpour, a figure kneeling in graduation robes to propose.

Each scene was proof that Nora loved only Simon.

I had witnessed those moments firsthand, so I couldn't deny the truth.

Even after three years of marriage, even as her husband, even though I had once received a sliver of her affection...

I couldn't deny it.

To be precise, whatever kindness Nora showed me was merely borrowed from Simon, who had temporarily stepped aside.

I clung to that small sweetness, deluding myself into believing that I had it all.

But, in truth, I never truly had her—not even for a second.

So when I saw the number 24 on the cake, my heart stopped.

I merely bowed my head and murmured a thank you.

Nora lit the candles and smiled softly. "Trent, we're husband and wife. Don't say 'thank you.' Make a wish."

I nodded and started to rise, but then Nora's phone rang.

Seeing the faint tremor in her eyes, I knew who it was, so I sat back down.

As I had expected, the call ended a minute later, and Nora left.

As I listened to the sound of her car fading away outside the window, a bitter smile touched my lips.

The room remained unlit, the flickering candle casting my shadow onto the wall.

I pressed my palms together and made my twenty-fourth birthday wish.

"In this new year, I will no longer love Nora."