Chapter 3The Anniversary Android

I turned around and booked a few male escorts. After drinks at the bar, I openly brought them home. Liam froze the moment he pushed open the door. On the sofa, on the rug, sitting or lying, was a group of flamboyantly dressed men. As he entered, all the men paused. I watched his slightly pale face and let out a nonchalant sneer. “Why are you looking at him? Look at me. Keep drinking.” I took out all the rare bottles from the liquor cabinet and let them have at it.

I deliberately made the party as boisterous as possible, trying to provoke Liam, hoping he’d demand a divorce on the spot. But he said nothing, just quietly went back to his room. The men left in the dead of night. I thought Liam had long gone to sleep in his room, but I found him waiting for me in the study.

“Sophia, we need to talk.”

I paused, then scoffed. “Finally going to talk about divorce, are we?” I turned around, only to see him frowning as he gathered all the empty bottles. “Don’t drink like this anymore. Alcohol is bad for your health.” He said it with a serious expression. “In the future, if you want to drink, you can have fruit wine. If it’s inconvenient for you to buy it, I can buy some and keep it at home…”

I was stunned. I was silent for a long time before coldly speaking. “Don’t men usually go crazy when their wives cheat on them?” “I’ve brought so many men home, why haven’t you asked me for a divorce yet?” “Liam, do you have any backbone?”

Liam looked at me with extreme patience, as if watching a child cry and throw a tantrum. “Sophia, I know you wouldn’t cheat.” It was that same light, placid attitude. All my attacks felt like punches landing on cotton. Soft and ineffective. “This is hangover soup I made for you in advance.” Liam placed a bowl on the table. “Remember to drink it. I’m going to sleep now.”

The moment he closed the bedroom door, my tears flowed. That bowl of hangover soup was so bitter, just like my heart. Liam didn’t hesitate to show me this gentle side. But I knew, it was different. No matter how kind he was to me, how gentle, it didn't change one fact: he still deeply loved his true love, Sarah Jensen.

I had seen it before. The day before our wedding anniversary, Liam, carrying white daisies, went to the cemetery. Liam’s parents were still alive. The only person he would be visiting was Sarah Jensen. There was no other possibility.

“I’m sorry, Sarah.”

“If only I had stopped you from going on that trip, you wouldn’t have died in that avalanche.” Saying this, Liam covered his face, sobbing uncontrollably. Every time he remembered that disaster, he was filled with extreme regret. In the days after Sarah’s death, he fell gravely ill, even running barefoot to the temple to pray, kneeling for three days straight. He said, “Take my life for hers, please? Let Sarah come back…” But the gods did not hear his pleas. Sarah died. How could the dead ever return to life?

I had seen his diary. He wrote Sarah Jensen’s name over and over again. Every stroke, every line, was imbued with all his strength. So I had witnessed firsthand what it looked like when Liam truly loved someone. Even as Liam’s wife, I had never possessed that kind of love. So rather than both of us suffering, it was better to give up.

“Let’s get a divorce.” I whispered, more to myself than to him.