Chapter 7
The first thing Emily did when she got home was delete all of Harold’s contact information; the second thing was to burn her and Harold’s wedding photos; the third thing was to throw away all of Harold’s clothes, shoes, and daily necessities.
Soon, there was no trace of Harold left in the house.
And as Emily looked at the much emptier home, she suddenly felt like a heavy burden had been lifted.
Before, she had always been terrified of losing Harold. But now that she’d actually lost him, Emily realized her world was no different with or
without him.
He wasn’t important.
Emily still lived as she always had, shuttled between school and home on weekdays.
She taught classes during the day, sometimes grabbing dinner at the school cafeteria with colleagues or ordering takeout at home with her best friend.
With no obligation to care for Harold’s parents anymore, weekends found her visiting her own family–sipping tea with her father or playing Backgammon with her mother.
Free from the identity of Harold’s wife, she embraced newfound freedom.
She could go wherever she pleased, stay out as late as she wanted; delete the Edinburgh weather app from her phone, no longer glued to it, terrified
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of missing Harold’s messages.
She wouldn’t overthink every little thing, obsessing over Harold’s scarce affection, wouldn’t lie awake all night, dreaming of his abandonment the moment she closed her eyes.
It was as if all the unhappiness and dissatisfaction in her life had vanished with the loss of Harold.
Occasionally, through mutual friends or her former in–laws, she would hear about Harold and Sophia in the UK.
When she learned that they didn’t seem to be together, Emily’s heart
remained calm.
Over the past six months, Emily had published several papers and earned the title of Level One Teacher.
Soon, winter break arrived. Just after stepping out of the school gate, she turned on her phone, which had been off during the performance review meeting.
Instantly, over 99 messages popped up on the screen.
The latest one was from an unknown number–just two short words.
“It’s me.”
Looking up, Emily saw Harold standing across the street, whom she
hadn’t seen in six months.
Harold had lost considerable weight, his features appearing even more aloof and unapproachable. When their eyes met, he hurriedly extinguished the cigarette between his fingers.
Amidst the bustling crowd at the school gate, Harold moved against the
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flow and approached Emily.
“Emily, I regret it.”
Emily stared at Harold’s pale face, momentarily distracted.
H
He seemed both changed and unchanged–still in his white shirt and black trousers, with those distant eyes. Only now, her heart would no longer flutter for him.
Meeting Harold’s earnest gaze, Emily frowned slightly.
“Regret what?”
Harold watched her silently.
“Let’s remarry. Please?”
At this, Emily firmly shook her head, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.
“No way. I’m perfectly fine on my own.”
Harold seemed caught off guard, his expression freezing momentarily. Then he regained that jade–like composure, pressing his lips into a gentle curve as soft as spring breeze.
“Let me treat you to dinner then.”
Watching Harold effortlessly pivot, Emily thought he hadn’t changed. Always this unflappable–even when thwarted, his dignity remained intact.
She didn’t refuse this time.
Harold arrived today in a Bentley Bentayga.
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Chapter 7
The moment Emily settled into the passenger seat, he leaned over to fasten her seatbelt. She grew incredulous.
For five years of marriage, they’d been like strangers bound by marriage.
She knew he had mysophobia, hated physical contact, so she never asked this of him. Now, six months divorced, he suddenly did this.
Emily whispered uncomfortably.
J
“Thanks.”
Harold said without looking at her.
“You’re welcome.”
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