I loved him from the day we married and for most of the past five years.

I thought he loved me too, even though he rarely contacted me, kept his schedule secret, and only shared a routine bed with me.

I never bothered him with my problems, even when I was sick and went to the hospital alone.

But then I found a box with letters from a rural school principal, thanking him for his anonymous donations for years.

The principal's name was Betty.

I was making breakfast the following day when Charles hugged me from behind.

Surprised, I asked him, 

"Are you having breakfast at home today?"

He nodded, and I gave him the fried omelet I had made.

He looked at it and hesitated.

"It's hot; devour it. I must do my makeup; I'm going with Grandma to see Mrs. Tang."

I put down the milk and turned to leave.

"Honey."

He pulled me back and wanted to say something.

I looked at him curiously.

"What's wrong?"

He embraced me and asked, 

"Have you been tired lately?"

Tired? Yes, I'm exhausted. I am tired of thinking about how to divorce him.

"I'm free tonight, do you want to go to the new Michelin restaurant near the office? They have the Cantonese food you love." 

He said.

I was shocked, and he asked, 

"Are you free tonight?" 

He nodded.

"How long?"

He smiled and touched my earlobe.

"A lot."

A lot? I was happy.

"Really?"

He smiled. 

"Of course."

"Great, I'll meet you at the office tonight then."

I jumped off him, feeling much lighter. 

It was great that he was free. 

That meant that tonight... we could finally talk about the divorce. 

"Madam, Mr. Charles has a dinner tonight and will be home around 10:30."

I stared at my phone briefly and replied,

"Okay, thanks."

10:30.

He would have eaten by then. I just had to prepare the bath and his clothes.

I finished everything by 9:45 and went to bed.

I heard the door open and the water running in the bathroom.

He came to bed and kissed me.

"Why are you sleeping so early?"

He whispered in my ear.

"A little tired,"

I said, not pushing him away.

We made love, and he fell asleep.

I couldn't sleep.

I got up and poured myself a glass of wine.

I sat in the living room and saw our wedding photos on the wall.

When should I tell him I want a divorce?

Charles and I met in college.

He was the campus star, wealthy, intelligent, handsome, perfect.

I fell in love with him, naturally.

I chased him for two semesters and did many silly things, but he never noticed me.

I remember it was a snowy day.

I knitted a scarf for him and waited for him outside his dorm.

But he said to me coldly,

"Dagny, leave me alone. I have someone I love."

I didn't believe him at first. I thought it was just an excuse.

Until I saw her, Betty.

I saw him take off his coat and wrap it around her.

I saw him comfort her softly as she cried.

I saw him kiss her gently on the lips.

He was so tender to her, so hurt by her.

But not to me.

Their love story spread quickly.

He was the proud son of heaven; she was the poor student.

She faced a lot of criticism and gossip.

He even banned the school forum to protect her.

But their love didn't last.

They broke up because Charles wanted to marry her after graduation, but Betty refused.

She said she wanted to be independent, not rely on a man.

They fought and made up and fought again until Betty decided to return to her hometown and work as a teacher. They parted ways for good.

Half a year later, Charles and my family had a project together.

Charles and I met again.

We got closer because of the project.

I was still nice to him as before.

I reminded him to drink less when he socialized. I cooked soup for him and brought it to his office.

Three months later, he saw me shivering outside his company one snowy night. He came over and asked me:

"Dagny, do you still like me that much?"

I looked at him blankly and nodded.

Yes, I always liked him.

He smiled.

"So... do you want to marry me?"