ManyWriters

Three years after our wedding ceremony, my darling, a pilot, canceled our marriage registration 18 times.
The first time, her male apprentice was doing a test flight. I waited at the door of the registry office for an entire day.
The second time, she received a call from her male apprentice on the way and abruptly turned back, leaving me on the roadside.
After that, whenever we made plans to register our marriage, her male apprentice would have all sorts of problems.
Later, I decided to leave her.
But when I boarded the plane to Paris, she chased after me to Paris like a madwoman.

Darling Rejected Marriage Registration 18 Times

The next morning, as soon as I woke up, I started packing my bags.


I had only gotten halfway through when Meadow returned home looking utterly exhausted.


As she walked in, a strong scent of cologne wafted in with her.


The smell caught me off guard for a moment.


Meadow has delicate, sensitive skin and is allergic to many cosmetics. She especially hates the smell of perfume.


Because of this, during all our years together, I'd get scolded even for using shampoo. So I never used any skincare products.


Now it seems she doesn't hate cosmetics, she just doesn't like me using them.


As she entered, she noticed me packing and paused briefly: "Eames took too long sobering up last night, so I got a hotel room by myself instead of coming home."


I glanced up at her, somewhat surprised.


This was the first time in our three years of marriage that she'd voluntarily offered me an explanation.


She slowly walked up to me and asked, looking down: "Are you packing for a work trip?"


Upon hearing my response, she seemed to let out a sigh of relief for some reason before continuing: "I have some things to do today. I just came back to grab something and then I'm leaving. I won't be here for lunch."


I didn't look up, focusing on packing my bags. I originally planned to tell her during lunch that I had resigned, officially putting an end to our eight-year relationship. Now it seems I won't even have that chance.


After saying this, Meadow grabbed a red bag, took the clothes hanging by the door, and hurriedly left.


The photo frame that had hung on the doorframe for eight years suddenly fell to the ground after she left.


I looked over. It was a photo of Meadow and me at our first concert together. In the picture, we had our hands clasped together, beaming with joy.


That day, she promised me that no matter how busy she got, she would accompany me to a concert every year from then on. But ever since Eames became her apprentice, she forgot all about it.


In the empty room, the clock ticked away.


I remained silent for a long while before finally cleaning up the glass shards. Then I took that photo full of happiness, along with what was left of my reluctance to let go, and tossed it all into the trash can.


Chapter 3