Chapter 2

Chapter 2

This apartment was our wedding house. I had personally chosen it and overseen the renovations.

After we got married, I had gradually added little touches here and there until it became what it was now.

It held so many memories—both good and bad...

Now, I was in the late stages of esophageal cancer, and William Green had long since found someone new.

So, in the divorce agreement, all I asked for was this apartment.

William Green said he would compensate me with some additional property and had already prepared a new divorce agreement.

But I didn't want his compensation.

I had never regretted loving him.

When you love someone, you have to be willing to accept defeat.

William Green was like a handful of sand that I couldn't hold onto, and along with him, all the memories of him should be scattered away too.

I didn't plan on keeping this apartment either. The only reason I wanted it was to make sure William Green and that other woman would never set foot in here.

As I neared the end of my life, this was my only stubborn wish.

I had originally planned to clear out all my things and then sell the place.

But now, I didn't have enough time.

I took out the photo album I had kept hidden in the drawer.

Inside were the photo booth strips William and I had taken when we were in school, our graduation photos, our wedding photos, travel photos...

And later, photos to mark my promotions at work.

After that, there were no more.

The album hadn't had any new photos added in two years.

At first, William and I were too busy with our business ventures. Then, William had someone else by his side.

I picked out the one photo where I thought I looked the most beautiful and slipped it into my pocket. The rest, of course, needed to be gotten rid of.

The once-thick album became thin again, empty inside.

Just like my thirty years of life.

In the drawer, I also kept the old cell phones William had used in the past.

As his career became more and more successful, he never wore the same clothes two days in a row, and he replaced his phone with a new one every year.

I should have realized earlier—he was someone who loved new things so much.

Naturally, he would also love new women.

Sooner or later, I would end up like those old phones, replaced by something newer.

But I was just too stupid.

I had kept all those old phones because they held so many memories of us.

Once, I had wanted to compile all the photos and messages from them into a book to look through slowly when we got old.

But before I could do that, William's heart had already wandered away.

And William and I were like a broken mirror—we would never be whole again.

Those memories had become like nails in my heart—too painful to pull out, too painful to touch.

I turned on each phone one by one and carefully restored them to their factory settings.

If I had decided to walk away, I wanted to leave completely, without a trace.

After I finished, I wiped down the phones and put them back in their box.

As for what to do with them in the end, I would leave that decision to William Green.

I spent the whole night tidying up the bedroom.

Looking at the pile of William's things in front of me, I felt like I was in a dream.

This man and I had once been husband and wife. We had once been in love...