Meta Ad Library · GB,DE,FR,BR
What competitors are running.
Active Facebook + Instagram + Messenger ads from this app’s developer (and lookalike pages). Spend and impressions only show for EU/UK/BR-targeted ads under DSA disclosure.
Active Facebook + Instagram + Messenger ads from this app’s developer (and lookalike pages). Spend and impressions only show for EU/UK/BR-targeted ads under DSA disclosure.
𝐅𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐚, 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐥𝐞 ⚡ Quick, smooth, and built for convenience. 💸 First Transfer – No Fees ⚡ Instant Delivery 🔐 Trusted Platform 📲 Flexible Receiving Options Try it now.
I'd just picked up my soup spoon when Raphael Gunning told me we'd have to put off getting our marriage license. "We'll do it some other day." Raphael set down his fork, his tone casual, like he was just commenting on the weather. I took a sip of soup. "Alright." He glanced at me, then looked down to pick up some food with his fork, only to lift his eyes toward me again. "You're not upset?" I took another sip of soup, my voice steady. "No." We held our wedding six months ago, and this was the seventeenth time we'd put off getting our marriage license. He was used to this. So was I. After I finished my meal, I stood up to clear the table. As I walked past him, he grabbed my wrist. "McKinley, I swear I'll be free next Monday. "We already had the wedding anyway. A few more days won't make a difference. "You can trust me. I won't bail on you this time." I stared at his hand holding mine, then lifted my gaze to meet his eyes and smiled, "Okay." Over the past six months, he had said "next week" nine times, promised "for sure" thirteen times, and told me to "trust him" sixteen times. Still, we never got our marriage certificate. And next week would be no different—because this time, I'd be the one to stand him up. My phone vibrated. It was a message from the law firm's HR. "You're resigning? Does Mr. Gunning know?" I held my phone and stepped outside while Raphael stayed sitting at the dining table. He stared at me with a strange expression, hesitated for a moment, then spoke tentatively, "Why aren't you asking me why this time?" I replied to HR's message first before turning my attention to Raphael. "It doesn't matter anymore." I meant every single word. The first time we planned to get our marriage certificate, his intern, Valerie Huxley, said she had a stomachache. I sat on a bench outside the city hall from dawn till dusk and went home alone. The second time, Valerie said she couldn't figure out how to put together a case spreadsheet. He'd left me stranded at a busy highway exit and rushed straight back to the firm without a second glance. Every time after that, whenever we set a date for our marriage license, Valerie would suddenly have some sort of emergency. Over the past six months, this same scene had played out seventeen times. Raphael froze at my words. His Adam's apple bobbed. After a short silence, he held his phone out to me. "A lot of people hire photographers to film them when they get their marriage certificate these days. "We should do that too. You've always loved that kind of romantic gesture, right?" So, he did remember I loved simple romantic moments. I thought for a second and asked, "Are you free tonight? Let's go out for..." I intended to ask him out for a final meal, but his phone rang before I finished speaking. The call was from his trainee, Valerie. I couldn't hear what she said on the other end, but after he hung up, Raphael looked at me. "Honey, Val..." I cut him off with a soft smile. "Go on. Drive safe." Raphael froze, clearly surprised by how calm I was being. But after a moment, he got dressed and headed out. "I'll bring you a gift when I come back tonight." The door slammed shut with a loud thud. Soon, I heard a car start and drive away right after. I stood there, staring at the closed door. Five years together, six months of a wedding— I should've let go of this relationship a long time ago. Chapter 2 That afternoon, I went into the office and handed my resignation letter straight to HR. She looked at me, her expression a mix of regret and confusion. "You and Mr. Gunning are the firm's golden team. At your wedding six months ago, even the partners came to congratulate you, not to mention all those clients. "Everyone was so envious of you back then. Why are you leaving all of a sudden?" I thought about our wedding six months ago: having a hundred and ten tables of guests, red carpets laid out, and flowers everywhere. Raphael held my hand and promised he'd protect me for the rest of my life. It had been a grand celebration, a perfect day. But no matter how wonderful it had been, those days were long gone. It was past ten o'clock at night when I got home after handing in my resignation. The house was eerily quiet and empty. Just then, an Instagram post from Valerie popped up on my phone. She'd tagged me directly. "Thanks to my mentor for staying with me all afternoon. In return, I'll take him to a concert tomorrow." I knew Raphael, who'd said he'd come home at noon, wasn't coming back. This had happened far too many times in the six months since we'd held the wedding. I ate dinner and didn't save any food for Raphael like I used to. Instead, I opened my email, which held job offers from law firms in over a dozen countries. I moved my mouse to the one from France, accepted the offer without hesitation, and booked a flight to Paris in two days. --- The next morning, I started packing. In the master bedroom closet, my clothes were on the left and Raphael's on the right. Raphael would have never worn those bright, colorful shirts before. But after Valerie came, she said they made him look approachable and more popular with clients. Since then, he'd stop wearing the tailored high-end suits I'd carefully picked out for him. I smiled faintly and placed my own clothes into the suitcase. I was only halfway done when Raphael came home. He was wearing a pink shirt, and it smelled like Valerie's favorite perfume. When he saw me, he froze briefly before explaining instinctively, "Val insisted on going shopping last night. It was too late to drive home, so I stayed in a hotel room." I nodded and said nothing. It was the first time he'd volunteered an explanation in six months of marriage. He took two steps closer, his eyes landing on the suitcase. "Are you going on a business trip?" "Yeah." For some reason, he looked relieved. "I have things to do today. I just came back to grab something." "Alright." I kept folding clothes without looking up. I'd planned to tell him I quit over lunch, but now it seemed unnecessary. He murmured in response, pulled out a red gift bag, grabbed his coat by the door, and hurried off. The second the door closed, the photo frame that had hung on the wall for six months crashed down, sending shards of glass flying. It was our wedding photo. In it, he wore the suit I'd picked out, and I wore my wedding dress. Back then, he told me he'd love me, cherish me, and care for me forever. I'd teared up and smiled like an idiot. But once Valerie showed up, he'd forgotten all those promises. I stared at the photo for a long time before cleaning up the broken glass. Then I threw the happy photo into the trash can, gone, along with the last of my feelings for him. Chapter 3 That evening, I'd just lain down on the bed when my best friend called. "Have you checked Instagram? What's going on with Raphael and Valerie?!" I unlocked my phone and saw Valerie had just posted a new update. It was a nine-photo grid, with a new necklace around her neck as the centerpiece. The caption read, "Happy 22nd birthday to me. Thanks for the gift, Mr. Gunning." In the bottom-right picture, half of a red gift bag was visible. So, Raphael had come home at noon just to grab Valerie's birthday present. My bestie kept ranting over the phone, "You've only been married six months, and she's already pulling this? What is wrong with Raphael?" "We never got our marriage certificate." Dead silence filled the line. After a long moment, her voice came through, thick with disbelief. "What?" "We had the wedding, but we never officially got married," I explained, my voice completely flat. There was another long pause. Finally, her voice dropped, laced with sympathy. "What are you going to do?" I glanced at my packed suitcase. "I'm flying to Paris tomorrow. A law firm over there offered me a job a while back." "He's not stopping you?" "He has no idea." And he wouldn't care even if he did. Ending the call, I checked Valerie's Instagram again. After a moment, I liked the post, considering it a final blessing before I left for good. At ten o'clock that night, Raphael came home. He walked in and reached to hang up his coat as usual, but froze halfway. "Where's the photo by the door?" He didn't even hang up his coat before walking into the bedroom, his voice slightly panicked. "Honey, where's our picture?" I leaned against the headboard and said calmly, "It fell and broke." At that, he glanced at the broken glass in the trash can and relaxed. Then he pulled a Louis Vuitton bag out of his own and held it out. "I said I'd get you a gift yesterday but didn't have time. Today... I made up for it." I froze for a second. Only then did I remember him saying yesterday morning, "I'll bring a gift when I come home tonight." I hadn't expected him to remember. Then, I saw the time on the receipt, from half an hour earlier. He'd probably felt guilty after seeing I liked Valerie's post, so he'd stopped at a store on the way home and bought a bag to make up for it. I didn't take it or say anything. Raphael set the bag on the bed, hesitating. "By the way, about the firm's Employee of the Month award next month, could you..." "Let Valerie have it?" He looked surprised I'd said it first and nodded awkwardly. "She's just starting out and really needs this recognition. You've won it several times already..." So, even this last-minute gift came with strings attached. I nodded. "Alright." Chapter 4 He looked stunned—probably hadn't expected me to agree so easily. "You're not mad?" I shook my head. There was nothing to be angry about. From now on, I didn't need any of the things she wanted—whether it was the Employee of the Month award or Raphael's favor. He relaxed and added, "Val is my trainee, and you're my wife. It's only right that you're generous. "Oh, and let's go to city hall tomorrow morning." I stared at him and said nothing. He seemed to remember something. "I almost forgot you're going on a business trip. What time is your flight tomorrow?" "Three PM." "Then we have time," he said at once, his tone firm. "Meet me at the city hall at ten AM. I've already hired a photographer and put down a deposit." I was about to tell him it wasn't necessary, that we didn't need to do this anymore. But his phone rang again, right on cue. Valerie's name flashed on the screen. He picked up, and her sweet voice came through the screen, saying her stomach hurt terribly and asking if he could take her to the hospital. He hung up, and for once, a flicker of hesitation crossed his face. I said, "Go." He looked relieved and pulled me into a quick hug. "Dress nicely tomorrow. I'll be there, I promise. No last-minute cancellations." With that, he grabbed his coat and left. The second the door closed, I glanced at the LV bag on the bed. The receipt was still tucked inside. I didn't open it, but put it back in the bag exactly as it was and placed it on the top shelf of the closet. Up there were two more bags of the same style, different colors—all his previous "impulse buys." --- The next morning at 9:30, I zipped up my last suitcase and took one last look at the room. In the closet, Raphael's clothes hung neatly in a row. The other side was empty. At 9:45, fifteen minutes before our scheduled appointment to get the marriage certificate, I called a cab and left for the airport. At ten o'clock, he still hadn't texted me or called me. And by noon, I still hadn't received a call from Raphael asking why I hadn't shown up. That afternoon, I picked up my boarding pass and walked to the gate. Just as I was about to board, my phone finally buzzed. It was two messages from Raphael, sent one right after the other. "Honey, Val's in the hospital and I can't leave her. I don't think I can make it to the marriage registration today." "When you get back from this trip, I'll pick you up at the airport, and we'll go straight to the city hall. I won't let anything get in the way this time." Reading his messages, I felt nothing. Sure enough, for the eighteenth time, he'd bailed on our marriage license. I kept my face calm as I typed my reply, "It's okay, Raphael. I've resigned. I'm starting a new job abroad." "After today, we're nothing to each other." After sending the last message, I was about to turn off my phone when the screen lit up, his familiar number flashing constantly.
I'd just picked up my soup spoon when Raphael Gunning told me we'd have to put off getting our marriage license. "We'll do it some other day." Raphael set down his fork, his tone casual, like he was just commenting on the weather. I took a sip of soup. "Alright." He glanced at me, then looked down to pick up some food with his fork, only to lift his eyes toward me again. "You're not upset?" I took another sip of soup, my voice steady. "No." We held our wedding six months ago, and this was the seventeenth time we'd put off getting our marriage license. He was used to this. So was I. After I finished my meal, I stood up to clear the table. As I walked past him, he grabbed my wrist. "McKinley, I swear I'll be free next Monday. "We already had the wedding anyway. A few more days won't make a difference. "You can trust me. I won't bail on you this time." I stared at his hand holding mine, then lifted my gaze to meet his eyes and smiled, "Okay." Over the past six months, he had said "next week" nine times, promised "for sure" thirteen times, and told me to "trust him" sixteen times. Still, we never got our marriage certificate. And next week would be no different—because this time, I'd be the one to stand him up. My phone vibrated. It was a message from the law firm's HR. "You're resigning? Does Mr. Gunning know?" I held my phone and stepped outside while Raphael stayed sitting at the dining table. He stared at me with a strange expression, hesitated for a moment, then spoke tentatively, "Why aren't you asking me why this time?" I replied to HR's message first before turning my attention to Raphael. "It doesn't matter anymore." I meant every single word. The first time we planned to get our marriage certificate, his intern, Valerie Huxley, said she had a stomachache. I sat on a bench outside the city hall from dawn till dusk and went home alone. The second time, Valerie said she couldn't figure out how to put together a case spreadsheet. He'd left me stranded at a busy highway exit and rushed straight back to the firm without a second glance. Every time after that, whenever we set a date for our marriage license, Valerie would suddenly have some sort of emergency. Over the past six months, this same scene had played out seventeen times. Raphael froze at my words. His Adam's apple bobbed. After a short silence, he held his phone out to me. "A lot of people hire photographers to film them when they get their marriage certificate these days. "We should do that too. You've always loved that kind of romantic gesture, right?" So, he did remember I loved simple romantic moments. I thought for a second and asked, "Are you free tonight? Let's go out for..." I intended to ask him out for a final meal, but his phone rang before I finished speaking. The call was from his trainee, Valerie. I couldn't hear what she said on the other end, but after he hung up, Raphael looked at me. "Honey, Val..." I cut him off with a soft smile. "Go on. Drive safe." Raphael froze, clearly surprised by how calm I was being. But after a moment, he got dressed and headed out. "I'll bring you a gift when I come back tonight." The door slammed shut with a loud thud. Soon, I heard a car start and drive away right after. I stood there, staring at the closed door. Five years together, six months of a wedding— I should've let go of this relationship a long time ago. Chapter 2 That afternoon, I went into the office and handed my resignation letter straight to HR. She looked at me, her expression a mix of regret and confusion. "You and Mr. Gunning are the firm's golden team. At your wedding six months ago, even the partners came to congratulate you, not to mention all those clients. "Everyone was so envious of you back then. Why are you leaving all of a sudden?" I thought about our wedding six months ago: having a hundred and ten tables of guests, red carpets laid out, and flowers everywhere. Raphael held my hand and promised he'd protect me for the rest of my life. It had been a grand celebration, a perfect day. But no matter how wonderful it had been, those days were long gone. It was past ten o'clock at night when I got home after handing in my resignation. The house was eerily quiet and empty. Just then, an Instagram post from Valerie popped up on my phone. She'd tagged me directly. "Thanks to my mentor for staying with me all afternoon. In return, I'll take him to a concert tomorrow." I knew Raphael, who'd said he'd come home at noon, wasn't coming back. This had happened far too many times in the six months since we'd held the wedding. I ate dinner and didn't save any food for Raphael like I used to. Instead, I opened my email, which held job offers from law firms in over a dozen countries. I moved my mouse to the one from France, accepted the offer without hesitation, and booked a flight to Paris in two days. --- The next morning, I started packing. In the master bedroom closet, my clothes were on the left and Raphael's on the right. Raphael would have never worn those bright, colorful shirts before. But after Valerie came, she said they made him look approachable and more popular with clients. Since then, he'd stop wearing the tailored high-end suits I'd carefully picked out for him. I smiled faintly and placed my own clothes into the suitcase. I was only halfway done when Raphael came home. He was wearing a pink shirt, and it smelled like Valerie's favorite perfume. When he saw me, he froze briefly before explaining instinctively, "Val insisted on going shopping last night. It was too late to drive home, so I stayed in a hotel room." I nodded and said nothing. It was the first time he'd volunteered an explanation in six months of marriage. He took two steps closer, his eyes landing on the suitcase. "Are you going on a business trip?" "Yeah." For some reason, he looked relieved. "I have things to do today. I just came back to grab something." "Alright." I kept folding clothes without looking up. I'd planned to tell him I quit over lunch, but now it seemed unnecessary. He murmured in response, pulled out a red gift bag, grabbed his coat by the door, and hurried off. The second the door closed, the photo frame that had hung on the wall for six months crashed down, sending shards of glass flying. It was our wedding photo. In it, he wore the suit I'd picked out, and I wore my wedding dress. Back then, he told me he'd love me, cherish me, and care for me forever. I'd teared up and smiled like an idiot. But once Valerie showed up, he'd forgotten all those promises. I stared at the photo for a long time before cleaning up the broken glass. Then I threw the happy photo into the trash can, gone, along with the last of my feelings for him. Chapter 3 That evening, I'd just lain down on the bed when my best friend called. "Have you checked Instagram? What's going on with Raphael and Valerie?!" I unlocked my phone and saw Valerie had just posted a new update. It was a nine-photo grid, with a new necklace around her neck as the centerpiece. The caption read, "Happy 22nd birthday to me. Thanks for the gift, Mr. Gunning." In the bottom-right picture, half of a red gift bag was visible. So, Raphael had come home at noon just to grab Valerie's birthday present. My bestie kept ranting over the phone, "You've only been married six months, and she's already pulling this? What is wrong with Raphael?" "We never got our marriage certificate." Dead silence filled the line. After a long moment, her voice came through, thick with disbelief. "What?" "We had the wedding, but we never officially got married," I explained, my voice completely flat. There was another long pause. Finally, her voice dropped, laced with sympathy. "What are you going to do?" I glanced at my packed suitcase. "I'm flying to Paris tomorrow. A law firm over there offered me a job a while back." "He's not stopping you?" "He has no idea." And he wouldn't care even if he did. Ending the call, I checked Valerie's Instagram again. After a moment, I liked the post, considering it a final blessing before I left for good. At ten o'clock that night, Raphael came home. He walked in and reached to hang up his coat as usual, but froze halfway. "Where's the photo by the door?" He didn't even hang up his coat before walking into the bedroom, his voice slightly panicked. "Honey, where's our picture?" I leaned against the headboard and said calmly, "It fell and broke." At that, he glanced at the broken glass in the trash can and relaxed. Then he pulled a Louis Vuitton bag out of his own and held it out. "I said I'd get you a gift yesterday but didn't have time. Today... I made up for it." I froze for a second. Only then did I remember him saying yesterday morning, "I'll bring a gift when I come home tonight." I hadn't expected him to remember. Then, I saw the time on the receipt, from half an hour earlier. He'd probably felt guilty after seeing I liked Valerie's post, so he'd stopped at a store on the way home and bought a bag to make up for it. I didn't take it or say anything. Raphael set the bag on the bed, hesitating. "By the way, about the firm's Employee of the Month award next month, could you..." "Let Valerie have it?" He looked surprised I'd said it first and nodded awkwardly. "She's just starting out and really needs this recognition. You've won it several times already..." So, even this last-minute gift came with strings attached. I nodded. "Alright." Chapter 4 He looked stunned—probably hadn't expected me to agree so easily. "You're not mad?" I shook my head. There was nothing to be angry about. From now on, I didn't need any of the things she wanted—whether it was the Employee of the Month award or Raphael's favor. He relaxed and added, "Val is my trainee, and you're my wife. It's only right that you're generous. "Oh, and let's go to city hall tomorrow morning." I stared at him and said nothing. He seemed to remember something. "I almost forgot you're going on a business trip. What time is your flight tomorrow?" "Three PM." "Then we have time," he said at once, his tone firm. "Meet me at the city hall at ten AM. I've already hired a photographer and put down a deposit." I was about to tell him it wasn't necessary, that we didn't need to do this anymore. But his phone rang again, right on cue. Valerie's name flashed on the screen. He picked up, and her sweet voice came through the screen, saying her stomach hurt terribly and asking if he could take her to the hospital. He hung up, and for once, a flicker of hesitation crossed his face. I said, "Go." He looked relieved and pulled me into a quick hug. "Dress nicely tomorrow. I'll be there, I promise. No last-minute cancellations." With that, he grabbed his coat and left. The second the door closed, I glanced at the LV bag on the bed. The receipt was still tucked inside. I didn't open it, but put it back in the bag exactly as it was and placed it on the top shelf of the closet. Up there were two more bags of the same style, different colors—all his previous "impulse buys." --- The next morning at 9:30, I zipped up my last suitcase and took one last look at the room. In the closet, Raphael's clothes hung neatly in a row. The other side was empty. At 9:45, fifteen minutes before our scheduled appointment to get the marriage certificate, I called a cab and left for the airport. At ten o'clock, he still hadn't texted me or called me. And by noon, I still hadn't received a call from Raphael asking why I hadn't shown up. That afternoon, I picked up my boarding pass and walked to the gate. Just as I was about to board, my phone finally buzzed. It was two messages from Raphael, sent one right after the other. "Honey, Val's in the hospital and I can't leave her. I don't think I can make it to the marriage registration today." "When you get back from this trip, I'll pick you up at the airport, and we'll go straight to the city hall. I won't let anything get in the way this time." Reading his messages, I felt nothing. Sure enough, for the eighteenth time, he'd bailed on our marriage license. I kept my face calm as I typed my reply, "It's okay, Raphael. I've resigned. I'm starting a new job abroad." "After today, we're nothing to each other." After sending the last message, I was about to turn off my phone when the screen lit up, his familiar number flashing constantly.
I'd just picked up my soup spoon when Raphael Gunning told me we'd have to put off getting our marriage license. "We'll do it some other day." Raphael set down his fork, his tone casual, like he was just commenting on the weather. I took a sip of soup. "Alright." He glanced at me, then looked down to pick up some food with his fork, only to lift his eyes toward me again. "You're not upset?" I took another sip of soup, my voice steady. "No." We held our wedding six months ago, and this was the seventeenth time we'd put off getting our marriage license. He was used to this. So was I. After I finished my meal, I stood up to clear the table. As I walked past him, he grabbed my wrist. "McKinley, I swear I'll be free next Monday. "We already had the wedding anyway. A few more days won't make a difference. "You can trust me. I won't bail on you this time." I stared at his hand holding mine, then lifted my gaze to meet his eyes and smiled, "Okay." Over the past six months, he had said "next week" nine times, promised "for sure" thirteen times, and told me to "trust him" sixteen times. Still, we never got our marriage certificate. And next week would be no different—because this time, I'd be the one to stand him up. My phone vibrated. It was a message from the law firm's HR. "You're resigning? Does Mr. Gunning know?" I held my phone and stepped outside while Raphael stayed sitting at the dining table. He stared at me with a strange expression, hesitated for a moment, then spoke tentatively, "Why aren't you asking me why this time?" I replied to HR's message first before turning my attention to Raphael. "It doesn't matter anymore." I meant every single word. The first time we planned to get our marriage certificate, his intern, Valerie Huxley, said she had a stomachache. I sat on a bench outside the city hall from dawn till dusk and went home alone. The second time, Valerie said she couldn't figure out how to put together a case spreadsheet. He'd left me stranded at a busy highway exit and rushed straight back to the firm without a second glance. Every time after that, whenever we set a date for our marriage license, Valerie would suddenly have some sort of emergency. Over the past six months, this same scene had played out seventeen times. Raphael froze at my words. His Adam's apple bobbed. After a short silence, he held his phone out to me. "A lot of people hire photographers to film them when they get their marriage certificate these days. "We should do that too. You've always loved that kind of romantic gesture, right?" So, he did remember I loved simple romantic moments. I thought for a second and asked, "Are you free tonight? Let's go out for..." I intended to ask him out for a final meal, but his phone rang before I finished speaking. The call was from his trainee, Valerie. I couldn't hear what she said on the other end, but after he hung up, Raphael looked at me. "Honey, Val..." I cut him off with a soft smile. "Go on. Drive safe." Raphael froze, clearly surprised by how calm I was being. But after a moment, he got dressed and headed out. "I'll bring you a gift when I come back tonight." The door slammed shut with a loud thud. Soon, I heard a car start and drive away right after. I stood there, staring at the closed door. Five years together, six months of a wedding— I should've let go of this relationship a long time ago. Chapter 2 That afternoon, I went into the office and handed my resignation letter straight to HR. She looked at me, her expression a mix of regret and confusion. "You and Mr. Gunning are the firm's golden team. At your wedding six months ago, even the partners came to congratulate you, not to mention all those clients. "Everyone was so envious of you back then. Why are you leaving all of a sudden?" I thought about our wedding six months ago: having a hundred and ten tables of guests, red carpets laid out, and flowers everywhere. Raphael held my hand and promised he'd protect me for the rest of my life. It had been a grand celebration, a perfect day. But no matter how wonderful it had been, those days were long gone. It was past ten o'clock at night when I got home after handing in my resignation. The house was eerily quiet and empty. Just then, an Instagram post from Valerie popped up on my phone. She'd tagged me directly. "Thanks to my mentor for staying with me all afternoon. In return, I'll take him to a concert tomorrow." I knew Raphael, who'd said he'd come home at noon, wasn't coming back. This had happened far too many times in the six months since we'd held the wedding. I ate dinner and didn't save any food for Raphael like I used to. Instead, I opened my email, which held job offers from law firms in over a dozen countries. I moved my mouse to the one from France, accepted the offer without hesitation, and booked a flight to Paris in two days. --- The next morning, I started packing. In the master bedroom closet, my clothes were on the left and Raphael's on the right. Raphael would have never worn those bright, colorful shirts before. But after Valerie came, she said they made him look approachable and more popular with clients. Since then, he'd stop wearing the tailored high-end suits I'd carefully picked out for him. I smiled faintly and placed my own clothes into the suitcase. I was only halfway done when Raphael came home. He was wearing a pink shirt, and it smelled like Valerie's favorite perfume. When he saw me, he froze briefly before explaining instinctively, "Val insisted on going shopping last night. It was too late to drive home, so I stayed in a hotel room." I nodded and said nothing. It was the first time he'd volunteered an explanation in six months of marriage. He took two steps closer, his eyes landing on the suitcase. "Are you going on a business trip?" "Yeah." For some reason, he looked relieved. "I have things to do today. I just came back to grab something." "Alright." I kept folding clothes without looking up. I'd planned to tell him I quit over lunch, but now it seemed unnecessary. He murmured in response, pulled out a red gift bag, grabbed his coat by the door, and hurried off. The second the door closed, the photo frame that had hung on the wall for six months crashed down, sending shards of glass flying. It was our wedding photo. In it, he wore the suit I'd picked out, and I wore my wedding dress. Back then, he told me he'd love me, cherish me, and care for me forever. I'd teared up and smiled like an idiot. But once Valerie showed up, he'd forgotten all those promises. I stared at the photo for a long time before cleaning up the broken glass. Then I threw the happy photo into the trash can, gone, along with the last of my feelings for him. Chapter 3 That evening, I'd just lain down on the bed when my best friend called. "Have you checked Instagram? What's going on with Raphael and Valerie?!" I unlocked my phone and saw Valerie had just posted a new update. It was a nine-photo grid, with a new necklace around her neck as the centerpiece. The caption read, "Happy 22nd birthday to me. Thanks for the gift, Mr. Gunning." In the bottom-right picture, half of a red gift bag was visible. So, Raphael had come home at noon just to grab Valerie's birthday present. My bestie kept ranting over the phone, "You've only been married six months, and she's already pulling this? What is wrong with Raphael?" "We never got our marriage certificate." Dead silence filled the line. After a long moment, her voice came through, thick with disbelief. "What?" "We had the wedding, but we never officially got married," I explained, my voice completely flat. There was another long pause. Finally, her voice dropped, laced with sympathy. "What are you going to do?" I glanced at my packed suitcase. "I'm flying to Paris tomorrow. A law firm over there offered me a job a while back." "He's not stopping you?" "He has no idea." And he wouldn't care even if he did. Ending the call, I checked Valerie's Instagram again. After a moment, I liked the post, considering it a final blessing before I left for good. At ten o'clock that night, Raphael came home. He walked in and reached to hang up his coat as usual, but froze halfway. "Where's the photo by the door?" He didn't even hang up his coat before walking into the bedroom, his voice slightly panicked. "Honey, where's our picture?" I leaned against the headboard and said calmly, "It fell and broke." At that, he glanced at the broken glass in the trash can and relaxed. Then he pulled a Louis Vuitton bag out of his own and held it out. "I said I'd get you a gift yesterday but didn't have time. Today... I made up for it." I froze for a second. Only then did I remember him saying yesterday morning, "I'll bring a gift when I come home tonight." I hadn't expected him to remember. Then, I saw the time on the receipt, from half an hour earlier. He'd probably felt guilty after seeing I liked Valerie's post, so he'd stopped at a store on the way home and bought a bag to make up for it. I didn't take it or say anything. Raphael set the bag on the bed, hesitating. "By the way, about the firm's Employee of the Month award next month, could you..." "Let Valerie have it?" He looked surprised I'd said it first and nodded awkwardly. "She's just starting out and really needs this recognition. You've won it several times already..." So, even this last-minute gift came with strings attached. I nodded. "Alright." Chapter 4 He looked stunned—probably hadn't expected me to agree so easily. "You're not mad?" I shook my head. There was nothing to be angry about. From now on, I didn't need any of the things she wanted—whether it was the Employee of the Month award or Raphael's favor. He relaxed and added, "Val is my trainee, and you're my wife. It's only right that you're generous. "Oh, and let's go to city hall tomorrow morning." I stared at him and said nothing. He seemed to remember something. "I almost forgot you're going on a business trip. What time is your flight tomorrow?" "Three PM." "Then we have time," he said at once, his tone firm. "Meet me at the city hall at ten AM. I've already hired a photographer and put down a deposit." I was about to tell him it wasn't necessary, that we didn't need to do this anymore. But his phone rang again, right on cue. Valerie's name flashed on the screen. He picked up, and her sweet voice came through the screen, saying her stomach hurt terribly and asking if he could take her to the hospital. He hung up, and for once, a flicker of hesitation crossed his face. I said, "Go." He looked relieved and pulled me into a quick hug. "Dress nicely tomorrow. I'll be there, I promise. No last-minute cancellations." With that, he grabbed his coat and left. The second the door closed, I glanced at the LV bag on the bed. The receipt was still tucked inside. I didn't open it, but put it back in the bag exactly as it was and placed it on the top shelf of the closet. Up there were two more bags of the same style, different colors—all his previous "impulse buys." --- The next morning at 9:30, I zipped up my last suitcase and took one last look at the room. In the closet, Raphael's clothes hung neatly in a row. The other side was empty. At 9:45, fifteen minutes before our scheduled appointment to get the marriage certificate, I called a cab and left for the airport. At ten o'clock, he still hadn't texted me or called me. And by noon, I still hadn't received a call from Raphael asking why I hadn't shown up. That afternoon, I picked up my boarding pass and walked to the gate. Just as I was about to board, my phone finally buzzed. It was two messages from Raphael, sent one right after the other. "Honey, Val's in the hospital and I can't leave her. I don't think I can make it to the marriage registration today." "When you get back from this trip, I'll pick you up at the airport, and we'll go straight to the city hall. I won't let anything get in the way this time." Reading his messages, I felt nothing. Sure enough, for the eighteenth time, he'd bailed on our marriage license. I kept my face calm as I typed my reply, "It's okay, Raphael. I've resigned. I'm starting a new job abroad." "After today, we're nothing to each other." After sending the last message, I was about to turn off my phone when the screen lit up, his familiar number flashing constantly.
I'd just picked up my soup spoon when Raphael Gunning told me we'd have to put off getting our marriage license. "We'll do it some other day." Raphael set down his fork, his tone casual, like he was just commenting on the weather. I took a sip of soup. "Alright." He glanced at me, then looked down to pick up some food with his fork, only to lift his eyes toward me again. "You're not upset?" I took another sip of soup, my voice steady. "No." We held our wedding six months ago, and this was the seventeenth time we'd put off getting our marriage license. He was used to this. So was I. After I finished my meal, I stood up to clear the table. As I walked past him, he grabbed my wrist. "McKinley, I swear I'll be free next Monday. "We already had the wedding anyway. A few more days won't make a difference. "You can trust me. I won't bail on you this time." I stared at his hand holding mine, then lifted my gaze to meet his eyes and smiled, "Okay." Over the past six months, he had said "next week" nine times, promised "for sure" thirteen times, and told me to "trust him" sixteen times. Still, we never got our marriage certificate. And next week would be no different—because this time, I'd be the one to stand him up. My phone vibrated. It was a message from the law firm's HR. "You're resigning? Does Mr. Gunning know?" I held my phone and stepped outside while Raphael stayed sitting at the dining table. He stared at me with a strange expression, hesitated for a moment, then spoke tentatively, "Why aren't you asking me why this time?" I replied to HR's message first before turning my attention to Raphael. "It doesn't matter anymore." I meant every single word. The first time we planned to get our marriage certificate, his intern, Valerie Huxley, said she had a stomachache. I sat on a bench outside the city hall from dawn till dusk and went home alone. The second time, Valerie said she couldn't figure out how to put together a case spreadsheet. He'd left me stranded at a busy highway exit and rushed straight back to the firm without a second glance. Every time after that, whenever we set a date for our marriage license, Valerie would suddenly have some sort of emergency. Over the past six months, this same scene had played out seventeen times. Raphael froze at my words. His Adam's apple bobbed. After a short silence, he held his phone out to me. "A lot of people hire photographers to film them when they get their marriage certificate these days. "We should do that too. You've always loved that kind of romantic gesture, right?" So, he did remember I loved simple romantic moments. I thought for a second and asked, "Are you free tonight? Let's go out for..." I intended to ask him out for a final meal, but his phone rang before I finished speaking. The call was from his trainee, Valerie. I couldn't hear what she said on the other end, but after he hung up, Raphael looked at me. "Honey, Val..." I cut him off with a soft smile. "Go on. Drive safe." Raphael froze, clearly surprised by how calm I was being. But after a moment, he got dressed and headed out. "I'll bring you a gift when I come back tonight." The door slammed shut with a loud thud. Soon, I heard a car start and drive away right after. I stood there, staring at the closed door. Five years together, six months of a wedding— I should've let go of this relationship a long time ago. Chapter 2 That afternoon, I went into the office and handed my resignation letter straight to HR. She looked at me, her expression a mix of regret and confusion. "You and Mr. Gunning are the firm's golden team. At your wedding six months ago, even the partners came to congratulate you, not to mention all those clients. "Everyone was so envious of you back then. Why are you leaving all of a sudden?" I thought about our wedding six months ago: having a hundred and ten tables of guests, red carpets laid out, and flowers everywhere. Raphael held my hand and promised he'd protect me for the rest of my life. It had been a grand celebration, a perfect day. But no matter how wonderful it had been, those days were long gone. It was past ten o'clock at night when I got home after handing in my resignation. The house was eerily quiet and empty. Just then, an Instagram post from Valerie popped up on my phone. She'd tagged me directly. "Thanks to my mentor for staying with me all afternoon. In return, I'll take him to a concert tomorrow." I knew Raphael, who'd said he'd come home at noon, wasn't coming back. This had happened far too many times in the six months since we'd held the wedding. I ate dinner and didn't save any food for Raphael like I used to. Instead, I opened my email, which held job offers from law firms in over a dozen countries. I moved my mouse to the one from France, accepted the offer without hesitation, and booked a flight to Paris in two days. --- The next morning, I started packing. In the master bedroom closet, my clothes were on the left and Raphael's on the right. Raphael would have never worn those bright, colorful shirts before. But after Valerie came, she said they made him look approachable and more popular with clients. Since then, he'd stop wearing the tailored high-end suits I'd carefully picked out for him. I smiled faintly and placed my own clothes into the suitcase. I was only halfway done when Raphael came home. He was wearing a pink shirt, and it smelled like Valerie's favorite perfume. When he saw me, he froze briefly before explaining instinctively, "Val insisted on going shopping last night. It was too late to drive home, so I stayed in a hotel room." I nodded and said nothing. It was the first time he'd volunteered an explanation in six months of marriage. He took two steps closer, his eyes landing on the suitcase. "Are you going on a business trip?" "Yeah." For some reason, he looked relieved. "I have things to do today. I just came back to grab something." "Alright." I kept folding clothes without looking up. I'd planned to tell him I quit over lunch, but now it seemed unnecessary. He murmured in response, pulled out a red gift bag, grabbed his coat by the door, and hurried off. The second the door closed, the photo frame that had hung on the wall for six months crashed down, sending shards of glass flying. It was our wedding photo. In it, he wore the suit I'd picked out, and I wore my wedding dress. Back then, he told me he'd love me, cherish me, and care for me forever. I'd teared up and smiled like an idiot. But once Valerie showed up, he'd forgotten all those promises. I stared at the photo for a long time before cleaning up the broken glass. Then I threw the happy photo into the trash can, gone, along with the last of my feelings for him. Chapter 3 That evening, I'd just lain down on the bed when my best friend called. "Have you checked Instagram? What's going on with Raphael and Valerie?!" I unlocked my phone and saw Valerie had just posted a new update. It was a nine-photo grid, with a new necklace around her neck as the centerpiece. The caption read, "Happy 22nd birthday to me. Thanks for the gift, Mr. Gunning." In the bottom-right picture, half of a red gift bag was visible. So, Raphael had come home at noon just to grab Valerie's birthday present. My bestie kept ranting over the phone, "You've only been married six months, and she's already pulling this? What is wrong with Raphael?" "We never got our marriage certificate." Dead silence filled the line. After a long moment, her voice came through, thick with disbelief. "What?" "We had the wedding, but we never officially got married," I explained, my voice completely flat. There was another long pause. Finally, her voice dropped, laced with sympathy. "What are you going to do?" I glanced at my packed suitcase. "I'm flying to Paris tomorrow. A law firm over there offered me a job a while back." "He's not stopping you?" "He has no idea." And he wouldn't care even if he did. Ending the call, I checked Valerie's Instagram again. After a moment, I liked the post, considering it a final blessing before I left for good. At ten o'clock that night, Raphael came home. He walked in and reached to hang up his coat as usual, but froze halfway. "Where's the photo by the door?" He didn't even hang up his coat before walking into the bedroom, his voice slightly panicked. "Honey, where's our picture?" I leaned against the headboard and said calmly, "It fell and broke." At that, he glanced at the broken glass in the trash can and relaxed. Then he pulled a Louis Vuitton bag out of his own and held it out. "I said I'd get you a gift yesterday but didn't have time. Today... I made up for it." I froze for a second. Only then did I remember him saying yesterday morning, "I'll bring a gift when I come home tonight." I hadn't expected him to remember. Then, I saw the time on the receipt, from half an hour earlier. He'd probably felt guilty after seeing I liked Valerie's post, so he'd stopped at a store on the way home and bought a bag to make up for it. I didn't take it or say anything. Raphael set the bag on the bed, hesitating. "By the way, about the firm's Employee of the Month award next month, could you..." "Let Valerie have it?" He looked surprised I'd said it first and nodded awkwardly. "She's just starting out and really needs this recognition. You've won it several times already..." So, even this last-minute gift came with strings attached. I nodded. "Alright." Chapter 4 He looked stunned—probably hadn't expected me to agree so easily. "You're not mad?" I shook my head. There was nothing to be angry about. From now on, I didn't need any of the things she wanted—whether it was the Employee of the Month award or Raphael's favor. He relaxed and added, "Val is my trainee, and you're my wife. It's only right that you're generous. "Oh, and let's go to city hall tomorrow morning." I stared at him and said nothing. He seemed to remember something. "I almost forgot you're going on a business trip. What time is your flight tomorrow?" "Three PM." "Then we have time," he said at once, his tone firm. "Meet me at the city hall at ten AM. I've already hired a photographer and put down a deposit." I was about to tell him it wasn't necessary, that we didn't need to do this anymore. But his phone rang again, right on cue. Valerie's name flashed on the screen. He picked up, and her sweet voice came through the screen, saying her stomach hurt terribly and asking if he could take her to the hospital. He hung up, and for once, a flicker of hesitation crossed his face. I said, "Go." He looked relieved and pulled me into a quick hug. "Dress nicely tomorrow. I'll be there, I promise. No last-minute cancellations." With that, he grabbed his coat and left. The second the door closed, I glanced at the LV bag on the bed. The receipt was still tucked inside. I didn't open it, but put it back in the bag exactly as it was and placed it on the top shelf of the closet. Up there were two more bags of the same style, different colors—all his previous "impulse buys." --- The next morning at 9:30, I zipped up my last suitcase and took one last look at the room. In the closet, Raphael's clothes hung neatly in a row. The other side was empty. At 9:45, fifteen minutes before our scheduled appointment to get the marriage certificate, I called a cab and left for the airport. At ten o'clock, he still hadn't texted me or called me. And by noon, I still hadn't received a call from Raphael asking why I hadn't shown up. That afternoon, I picked up my boarding pass and walked to the gate. Just as I was about to board, my phone finally buzzed. It was two messages from Raphael, sent one right after the other. "Honey, Val's in the hospital and I can't leave her. I don't think I can make it to the marriage registration today." "When you get back from this trip, I'll pick you up at the airport, and we'll go straight to the city hall. I won't let anything get in the way this time." Reading his messages, I felt nothing. Sure enough, for the eighteenth time, he'd bailed on our marriage license. I kept my face calm as I typed my reply, "It's okay, Raphael. I've resigned. I'm starting a new job abroad." "After today, we're nothing to each other." After sending the last message, I was about to turn off my phone when the screen lit up, his familiar number flashing constantly.
I'd just picked up my soup spoon when Raphael Gunning told me we'd have to put off getting our marriage license. "We'll do it some other day." Raphael set down his fork, his tone casual, like he was just commenting on the weather. I took a sip of soup. "Alright." He glanced at me, then looked down to pick up some food with his fork, only to lift his eyes toward me again. "You're not upset?" I took another sip of soup, my voice steady. "No." We held our wedding six months ago, and this was the seventeenth time we'd put off getting our marriage license. He was used to this. So was I. After I finished my meal, I stood up to clear the table. As I walked past him, he grabbed my wrist. "McKinley, I swear I'll be free next Monday. "We already had the wedding anyway. A few more days won't make a difference. "You can trust me. I won't bail on you this time." I stared at his hand holding mine, then lifted my gaze to meet his eyes and smiled, "Okay." Over the past six months, he had said "next week" nine times, promised "for sure" thirteen times, and told me to "trust him" sixteen times. Still, we never got our marriage certificate. And next week would be no different—because this time, I'd be the one to stand him up. My phone vibrated. It was a message from the law firm's HR. "You're resigning? Does Mr. Gunning know?" I held my phone and stepped outside while Raphael stayed sitting at the dining table. He stared at me with a strange expression, hesitated for a moment, then spoke tentatively, "Why aren't you asking me why this time?" I replied to HR's message first before turning my attention to Raphael. "It doesn't matter anymore." I meant every single word. The first time we planned to get our marriage certificate, his intern, Valerie Huxley, said she had a stomachache. I sat on a bench outside the city hall from dawn till dusk and went home alone. The second time, Valerie said she couldn't figure out how to put together a case spreadsheet. He'd left me stranded at a busy highway exit and rushed straight back to the firm without a second glance. Every time after that, whenever we set a date for our marriage license, Valerie would suddenly have some sort of emergency. Over the past six months, this same scene had played out seventeen times. Raphael froze at my words. His Adam's apple bobbed. After a short silence, he held his phone out to me. "A lot of people hire photographers to film them when they get their marriage certificate these days. "We should do that too. You've always loved that kind of romantic gesture, right?" So, he did remember I loved simple romantic moments. I thought for a second and asked, "Are you free tonight? Let's go out for..." I intended to ask him out for a final meal, but his phone rang before I finished speaking. The call was from his trainee, Valerie. I couldn't hear what she said on the other end, but after he hung up, Raphael looked at me. "Honey, Val..." I cut him off with a soft smile. "Go on. Drive safe." Raphael froze, clearly surprised by how calm I was being. But after a moment, he got dressed and headed out. "I'll bring you a gift when I come back tonight." The door slammed shut with a loud thud. Soon, I heard a car start and drive away right after. I stood there, staring at the closed door. Five years together, six months of a wedding— I should've let go of this relationship a long time ago. Chapter 2 That afternoon, I went into the office and handed my resignation letter straight to HR. She looked at me, her expression a mix of regret and confusion. "You and Mr. Gunning are the firm's golden team. At your wedding six months ago, even the partners came to congratulate you, not to mention all those clients. "Everyone was so envious of you back then. Why are you leaving all of a sudden?" I thought about our wedding six months ago: having a hundred and ten tables of guests, red carpets laid out, and flowers everywhere. Raphael held my hand and promised he'd protect me for the rest of my life. It had been a grand celebration, a perfect day. But no matter how wonderful it had been, those days were long gone. It was past ten o'clock at night when I got home after handing in my resignation. The house was eerily quiet and empty. Just then, an Instagram post from Valerie popped up on my phone. She'd tagged me directly. "Thanks to my mentor for staying with me all afternoon. In return, I'll take him to a concert tomorrow." I knew Raphael, who'd said he'd come home at noon, wasn't coming back. This had happened far too many times in the six months since we'd held the wedding. I ate dinner and didn't save any food for Raphael like I used to. Instead, I opened my email, which held job offers from law firms in over a dozen countries. I moved my mouse to the one from France, accepted the offer without hesitation, and booked a flight to Paris in two days. --- The next morning, I started packing. In the master bedroom closet, my clothes were on the left and Raphael's on the right. Raphael would have never worn those bright, colorful shirts before. But after Valerie came, she said they made him look approachable and more popular with clients. Since then, he'd stop wearing the tailored high-end suits I'd carefully picked out for him. I smiled faintly and placed my own clothes into the suitcase. I was only halfway done when Raphael came home. He was wearing a pink shirt, and it smelled like Valerie's favorite perfume. When he saw me, he froze briefly before explaining instinctively, "Val insisted on going shopping last night. It was too late to drive home, so I stayed in a hotel room." I nodded and said nothing. It was the first time he'd volunteered an explanation in six months of marriage. He took two steps closer, his eyes landing on the suitcase. "Are you going on a business trip?" "Yeah." For some reason, he looked relieved. "I have things to do today. I just came back to grab something." "Alright." I kept folding clothes without looking up. I'd planned to tell him I quit over lunch, but now it seemed unnecessary. He murmured in response, pulled out a red gift bag, grabbed his coat by the door, and hurried off. The second the door closed, the photo frame that had hung on the wall for six months crashed down, sending shards of glass flying. It was our wedding photo. In it, he wore the suit I'd picked out, and I wore my wedding dress. Back then, he told me he'd love me, cherish me, and care for me forever. I'd teared up and smiled like an idiot. But once Valerie showed up, he'd forgotten all those promises. I stared at the photo for a long time before cleaning up the broken glass. Then I threw the happy photo into the trash can, gone, along with the last of my feelings for him. Chapter 3 That evening, I'd just lain down on the bed when my best friend called. "Have you checked Instagram? What's going on with Raphael and Valerie?!" I unlocked my phone and saw Valerie had just posted a new update. It was a nine-photo grid, with a new necklace around her neck as the centerpiece. The caption read, "Happy 22nd birthday to me. Thanks for the gift, Mr. Gunning." In the bottom-right picture, half of a red gift bag was visible. So, Raphael had come home at noon just to grab Valerie's birthday present. My bestie kept ranting over the phone, "You've only been married six months, and she's already pulling this? What is wrong with Raphael?" "We never got our marriage certificate." Dead silence filled the line. After a long moment, her voice came through, thick with disbelief. "What?" "We had the wedding, but we never officially got married," I explained, my voice completely flat. There was another long pause. Finally, her voice dropped, laced with sympathy. "What are you going to do?" I glanced at my packed suitcase. "I'm flying to Paris tomorrow. A law firm over there offered me a job a while back." "He's not stopping you?" "He has no idea." And he wouldn't care even if he did. Ending the call, I checked Valerie's Instagram again. After a moment, I liked the post, considering it a final blessing before I left for good. At ten o'clock that night, Raphael came home. He walked in and reached to hang up his coat as usual, but froze halfway. "Where's the photo by the door?" He didn't even hang up his coat before walking into the bedroom, his voice slightly panicked. "Honey, where's our picture?" I leaned against the headboard and said calmly, "It fell and broke." At that, he glanced at the broken glass in the trash can and relaxed. Then he pulled a Louis Vuitton bag out of his own and held it out. "I said I'd get you a gift yesterday but didn't have time. Today... I made up for it." I froze for a second. Only then did I remember him saying yesterday morning, "I'll bring a gift when I come home tonight." I hadn't expected him to remember. Then, I saw the time on the receipt, from half an hour earlier. He'd probably felt guilty after seeing I liked Valerie's post, so he'd stopped at a store on the way home and bought a bag to make up for it. I didn't take it or say anything. Raphael set the bag on the bed, hesitating. "By the way, about the firm's Employee of the Month award next month, could you..." "Let Valerie have it?" He looked surprised I'd said it first and nodded awkwardly. "She's just starting out and really needs this recognition. You've won it several times already..." So, even this last-minute gift came with strings attached. I nodded. "Alright." Chapter 4 He looked stunned—probably hadn't expected me to agree so easily. "You're not mad?" I shook my head. There was nothing to be angry about. From now on, I didn't need any of the things she wanted—whether it was the Employee of the Month award or Raphael's favor. He relaxed and added, "Val is my trainee, and you're my wife. It's only right that you're generous. "Oh, and let's go to city hall tomorrow morning." I stared at him and said nothing. He seemed to remember something. "I almost forgot you're going on a business trip. What time is your flight tomorrow?" "Three PM." "Then we have time," he said at once, his tone firm. "Meet me at the city hall at ten AM. I've already hired a photographer and put down a deposit." I was about to tell him it wasn't necessary, that we didn't need to do this anymore. But his phone rang again, right on cue. Valerie's name flashed on the screen. He picked up, and her sweet voice came through the screen, saying her stomach hurt terribly and asking if he could take her to the hospital. He hung up, and for once, a flicker of hesitation crossed his face. I said, "Go." He looked relieved and pulled me into a quick hug. "Dress nicely tomorrow. I'll be there, I promise. No last-minute cancellations." With that, he grabbed his coat and left. The second the door closed, I glanced at the LV bag on the bed. The receipt was still tucked inside. I didn't open it, but put it back in the bag exactly as it was and placed it on the top shelf of the closet. Up there were two more bags of the same style, different colors—all his previous "impulse buys." --- The next morning at 9:30, I zipped up my last suitcase and took one last look at the room. In the closet, Raphael's clothes hung neatly in a row. The other side was empty. At 9:45, fifteen minutes before our scheduled appointment to get the marriage certificate, I called a cab and left for the airport. At ten o'clock, he still hadn't texted me or called me. And by noon, I still hadn't received a call from Raphael asking why I hadn't shown up. That afternoon, I picked up my boarding pass and walked to the gate. Just as I was about to board, my phone finally buzzed. It was two messages from Raphael, sent one right after the other. "Honey, Val's in the hospital and I can't leave her. I don't think I can make it to the marriage registration today." "When you get back from this trip, I'll pick you up at the airport, and we'll go straight to the city hall. I won't let anything get in the way this time." Reading his messages, I felt nothing. Sure enough, for the eighteenth time, he'd bailed on our marriage license. I kept my face calm as I typed my reply, "It's okay, Raphael. I've resigned. I'm starting a new job abroad." "After today, we're nothing to each other." After sending the last message, I was about to turn off my phone when the screen lit up, his familiar number flashing constantly.
A private chat just for you 🔒💖 Start talking with your AI companion now.
🤯 Je jurais que je mangeais peu. Une semaine à tout peser. Je mangeais le double. 📋 J'ai commencé par un petit quiz dans l'app : taille, poids, objectif — il m'a sorti ma vraie norme, 2200 kcal. 📸 Photo de l'assiette avant chaque repas : kcal, protéines, lipides et glucides en quelques secondes. 📊 Tu vois le vrai chiffre et tu compares avec ta norme. Pas de balance, pas de maths. 📲 Welmi — teste-la gratuitement sur l'App Store et Google Play.
🤯 Je jurais que je mangeais peu. Une semaine à tout peser. Je mangeais le double. 📋 J'ai commencé par un petit quiz dans l'app : taille, poids, objectif — il m'a sorti ma vraie norme, 2200 kcal. 📸 Photo de l'assiette avant chaque repas : kcal, protéines, lipides et glucides en quelques secondes. 📊 Tu vois le vrai chiffre et tu compares avec ta norme. Pas de balance, pas de maths. 📲 Welmi — teste-la gratuitement sur l'App Store et Google Play.
🤯 Je jurais que je mangeais peu. Une semaine à tout peser. Je mangeais le double. 📋 J'ai commencé par un petit quiz dans l'app : taille, poids, objectif — il m'a sorti ma vraie norme, 2200 kcal. 📸 Photo de l'assiette avant chaque repas : kcal, protéines, lipides et glucides en quelques secondes. 📊 Tu vois le vrai chiffre et tu compares avec ta norme. Pas de balance, pas de maths. 📲 Welmi — teste-la gratuitement sur l'App Store et Google Play.
🤯 Ich hab geschworen, ich esse wenig. Eine Woche alles abgewogen. War das Doppelte. 📋 Hab mit einem kurzen Quiz in der App angefangen: Größe, Gewicht, Ziel — und schon hatte ich meinen echten Wert: 2200 kcal. 📸 Foto vom Teller vor jeder Mahlzeit: kcal, Eiweiß, Fett und Kohlenhydrate in Sekunden. 📊 Du siehst die echte Zahl und vergleichst mit deinem Wert. Kein Wiegen, keine Mathe. 📲 Welmi — kostenlos testen, im App Store und auf Google Play.
🤯 Je jurais que je mangeais peu. Une semaine à tout peser. Je mangeais le double. 📋 J'ai commencé par un petit quiz dans l'app : taille, poids, objectif — il m'a sorti ma vraie norme, 2200 kcal. 📸 Photo de l'assiette avant chaque repas : kcal, protéines, lipides et glucides en quelques secondes. 📊 Tu vois le vrai chiffre et tu compares avec ta norme. Pas de balance, pas de maths. 📲 Welmi — teste-la gratuitement sur l'App Store et Google Play.