Chapter 3Divorcing My Cheating Wife From Golden Boy to Millionaire

That night, my best friend Liam called to invite me out for drinks.

I glanced at the shut bedroom door and murmured,

"Send me the address. I'll be there in twenty."

When I arrived at the bar, Liam grinned and playfully punched my shoulder.

"Look who it is! Rare sight for our resident domesticated family man to come drinking with single losers like me. What, did Wendy grant you a hall pass tonight? Did something happen?"

"I need a favor."

I gave a self-deprecating smile, ordered a whiskey, and took two bitter sips. The burn in my throat couldn't mask the bile rising in my chest.

"Wendy's first love is back in town."

"Wait, what?"

Liam inhaled sharply, his eyes going wide with pure shock and a hint of gossip-fueled adrenaline.

"The golden boy who supposedly moved abroad years ago? Did she... is she cheating on you? What do you need me to do? Want me to get a few guys to jump him? Say the word and it's done!"

"Shut up, stop talking crazy," I said, lightly shoving his shoulder with fake irritation. "She's my wife. She wouldn't go that far."

I paused, staring into my glass. "Just... look into him for me. His name is Julian Vance."

"Man, if that's all, what are you even stressing about? Consider it done."

Liam shrugged, signaling the bartender for another round.

I ordered another drink too. As the alcohol clouded my head, I suddenly stared at him and asked,

"Hey... do you think she really loved him back then?"

"Oh, come on, Ethan. Don't do this to yourself."

Slurring slightly, Liam clinked his glass against mine and slung an arm around my neck.

"Isn't the answer obvious? They were together back then—of course they loved each other."

Right.

My fingers suddenly went limp. The glass slipped from my grip, shattering on the floor into a million sharp fragments.

They were lovers. Of course they loved each other.

Then what about me?

What the hell was I?

A distraction when she was bored?

A disposable plaything she could toss aside whenever she pleased?

Yet she never once stopped to ask...

She never asked if I was willing to be her biggest joke.

Liam and I drank until the early hours of the morning, completely wasted, crashing right there in a booth at the pub.

It wasn't until dawn that the bartender gently shook me awake.

"Hey, buddy. Wake up."

I nudged Liam, who was dead to the world beside me.

He swat my hand away groggily, covering his ears and keeping his eyes glued shut.

"Five more minutes, man... Your missus is probably blowing up your phone again, right? Just head back first..."

"...Yeah. Okay."

I nodded quietly.

What he didn't know was that this time... nobody was blowing up my phone.

The second I opened my eyes, I had checked my phone a dozen times. Not a single missed call. Not a single unread notification from her. The only unread text was an automated bill reminder from my carrier.

A bitter, mocking smile tugged at my lips. This had never happened before.

She never used to be like this.

Wendy and I met in college.

She was a senior when I was just a freshman, and she was the very first person I ran into on campus during move-in day.

At first, I couldn't stand her.

Simply because... the first time we ever met, she slapped me and called me a pervert.