I Don't Want My Wife Anymore

I stood before the lavish wedding venue. My wife Celia Quayle’s wedding photos with her male bodyguard, Mason Johnston, were everywhere. The event was so elaborate that even relatives from both families attended.

Even so, she had still tried to tell me it was just a business arrangement. Did she take me for a fool?

Even if a business arrangement required a wedding ceremony, why would she choose Mason Johnston, a mere bodyguard, over me, her husband?

Celia took my hand and said with a sigh, “Fine. If I don’t explain it clearly for you, you’ll just overthink again.

“You know he once risked his life to pull me out of a fire. His hand was badly burned in the process.

“His only wish was to have a grand, public wedding. I owe him my life. I can’t just ignore that, can I?”

But Mason was not the only bodyguard who rescued her that day. Nor was he the most severely injured. So, why did she not marry all of them?

Even if he wanted a grand wedding, why did she have to marry him? He could have found someone else.

No matter how much she explained it, it was nothing but excuses for having fallen in love with someone else.

In the past, I would have argued with her. But at that point, I no longer had it in me.

When I did not retort, she seemed surprised.

Seeing my grim expression, she reached out and wiped my sweat with her white glove. She did not even mind getting it dirty.

“Why’d you have to rush over like that? You’re soaked in sweat now. It’s so cold outside. What if you get sick?”

That was her usual move. A slap and a kiss.

She had done the same thing last time when she bought Mason that house. Back then, I had naively believed her again.

But with my younger brother, Cyrus’ death still fresh in my mind, I would not be fooled again.

Just as I was about to push her hand away, the wedding host’s voice rang through the hall.

“Celia and Mason’s story began with a fire, literally. But out of that chaos, they found each other. Two years in, they’re finally tying the knot. So, let’s raise a glass to their journey and wish them a lifetime of happiness together.”

On the screen, Celia, who had once told me she hated taking couple photos, had her pictures with Mason popping up one after another.

The photos featured many couple poses. Each photo was carefully marked with a date.

It turned out that every time she had used business trips as an excuse, she had actually been traveling with Mason.