I waited until everyone had started eating.

Then I placed the divorce agreement on the table.

Not dramatically.

Not angrily.

I simply slid the papers toward Daniel.

The laughter around us slowly disappeared.

Daniel looked down.

His chopsticks stopped halfway to his plate.

For several seconds, he didn’t move.

Then he read the title.

DIVORCE AGREEMENT.

His expression changed.

Not much.

Daniel Song was a man trained to remain calm even when everything around him was falling apart.

But I knew him well enough to notice the tightening of his jaw.

“What is this?”

“My answer to the conversation we didn’t finish at home.”

Across the table, Irene’s smile faded.

Marcos stared at the papers.

The other officers suddenly became extremely interested in their bowls.

Daniel looked at me.

“Clara.”

“Not here.”

I almost laughed.

Why?

Because Irene was here?

Because his colleagues were watching?

Because suddenly our marriage deserved privacy?

I pushed a pen toward him.

“Then sign it, and we won’t have to discuss anything here.”

His face hardened.

“Stop.”

“I’m not joking.”

“I know.”

His eyes dropped to my signature.

He saw the time written beside it.

3:07 a.m.

His fingers froze.

“You signed this last night?”

“Technically, this morning.”

Daniel stared at me.

“While I was gone?”

“Yes.”

Irene suddenly spoke.

“Clara, maybe there’s been a misunderstanding.”

I turned toward her.

She looked genuinely uncomfortable now.

“This is between Daniel and me.”

“I know, but last night—”

“Irene.”

Daniel’s voice stopped her instantly.

That familiarity hurt more than I wanted to admit.

One word.

And she understood him.

Ten minutes later, I stood.

“I’m going home.”

Daniel immediately stood too.

“I’ll take you.”

“No.”

“Clara.”

“You stayed here because Irene stayed.”

I picked up my bag.

“So celebrate.”

Then I walked away.

This time, Daniel didn’t follow me.

At least…

Not immediately.

I had barely reached the courtyard when footsteps came behind me.

He caught my arm.

“What exactly did Mrs. Liu tell you?”

I looked at his hand.

Daniel released me.

“Enough.”

“Clara, listen to me.”

“Irene and I broke up years ago.”

“Then why did you leave me on our wedding night?”

His expression stiffened.

“There was an urgent situation.”

“Was she dying?”

“No.”

“Was she injured?”

“No.”

“Was she in danger?”

He remained silent.

I nodded.

“Then it wasn’t urgent.”

“She was leaving the country.”

“And I was your wife.”

That stopped him.

The rain from the previous night had left small pools across the courtyard.

I watched the wind disturb their surfaces.

“You knew I was waiting for you.”

“Yes.”

“You knew it was our wedding night.”

“Yes.”

“And you still went.”

Daniel looked away.

That was my answer.

He spoke quietly.

“I thought you’d understand.”

I smiled.

“I did.”

His eyes returned to mine.

“I understood exactly where I stand.”

I walked away before he could answer.

That evening, Daniel came home earlier than usual.

When I entered the kitchen, the table was filled with dishes.

Steamed fish.

Braised vegetables.

Chicken soup.

Even the sweet rice cakes I had once mentioned liking.

Daniel stood beside the table.

“Sit down.”

I looked at the food.

“What is this?”

“Dinner.”

“I can see that.”

His lips tightened.

“I’m trying to make things right.”

That sentence almost broke something inside me.

He truly believed a dinner could repair our wedding night.

That food could erase the image of him smiling at Irene.

That kindness offered only after I asked for a divorce somehow counted as love.

I sat down.

Daniel seemed relieved.

He filled my bowl.

“Eat while it’s hot.”

I took one bite.

Then another.

Daniel watched me carefully.

“Is it good?”

“Yes.”

His shoulders relaxed.

“I remembered you don’t like too much ginger.”

I looked at him.

For a moment, I wondered whether I had made a mistake.

Maybe he did care.

Maybe he simply didn’t know how to show it.

Maybe marriages didn’t begin perfectly.

Maybe—

His phone rang.

The name on the screen was Irene.

Daniel stared at it.

So did I.

He declined the call.

A few seconds later, it rang again.

He declined it again.

Then a message arrived.

His expression changed as he read it.

I didn’t need to ask.

I already knew.

Daniel stood.

“I have to go out for a while.”

I slowly put down my chopsticks.

“Is Irene in trouble?”

“She says someone has been following her.”

“Call security.”

“Clara.”

“Call the police.”

“She’s frightened.”

“And I’m your wife.”

He closed his eyes briefly.

“I’ll explain when I get back.”

I looked at the beautiful dinner.

Then at the chair he was leaving empty.

Again.

Something inside me became completely calm.

“Go.”

Daniel hesitated.

“I’ll be back soon.”

Those were the same words he had said on our wedding night.

This time, I smiled.

“Of course.”

He left.

The door closed.

I finished dinner alone.

Then I washed both bowls.

I cleaned the kitchen.

I packed my clothes.

And before midnight, I left the signed divorce agreement on the table.

Beside it, I placed my wedding ring.

Daniel returned at 1:40 a.m.

The house was dark.

“Clara?”

No answer.

He turned on the light.

The first thing he saw was the ring.

Then the agreement.

Underneath it was a short note.

Daniel,

You don’t need to keep apologizing.

You don’t need to cook for me.

And you don’t need to choose between Irene and me anymore.

I’m removing myself from the choice.

Please sign the papers.

Clara.

For the first time that night, Daniel panicked.

He opened the bedroom door.

Empty.

Bathroom.

Empty.

Balcony.

Empty.

He opened the wardrobe.

Half of it had been cleared.

He called me.

Once.

Twice.

Ten times.

I didn’t answer.

By morning, there were twenty-seven missed calls.

At seven, someone knocked on my temporary apartment door.

I knew who it was before I opened it.

Daniel stood outside.

His uniform was wrinkled.

His eyes were bloodshot.

He looked as if he hadn’t slept.

“Come home.”

“No.”

“Clara, Irene really was being followed.”

“I believe you.”

That seemed to surprise him.

“Then why are you doing this?”

“Because whether her reasons are real has never been the problem.”

I looked directly at him.

“The problem is that every time she calls, you go.”

He said nothing.

“You can call it responsibility.”

“Friendship.”

“History.”

“Whatever makes you feel better.”

“But I won’t spend my marriage waiting to see whether another woman needs my husband more than I do.”

Daniel’s face went pale.

“I can change.”

“Maybe.”

I nodded.

“But I don’t have to stay while you learn.”

He reached into his jacket.

The divorce papers.

Still unsigned.

“I won’t sign.”

I looked at him calmly.

“You will eventually.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because you don’t love me.”

His expression hardened.

“You don’t get to decide that.”

“Then tell me you love me.”

Silence.

Five seconds.

Ten.

Twenty.

Daniel Song could command an entire detachment without hesitation.

But standing in front of his wife…

He couldn’t say three words.

My eyes burned.

Still, I smiled.

“That’s what I thought.”

I closed the door.

Three months later, the divorce was finalized.

I moved to another district and returned to work.

I stopped asking mutual friends about Daniel.

But news traveled anyway.

I heard Irene eventually accepted an overseas assignment.

This time, Daniel didn’t stop her.

I heard he became quieter.

He stopped attending dinners.

And Mrs. Liu told me something else.

Apparently, every evening for weeks, Daniel cooked two portions of dinner.

Then he sat alone at the table.

One evening, months later, I saw him again.

We were standing on opposite sides of a crowded street.

He looked thinner.

Older somehow.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

Then the pedestrian light changed.

People walked between us.

Daniel took one step toward me.

I shook my head.

Very slightly.

He stopped.

There was no anger left between us.

Only an ending.

I smiled politely.

Then I turned away.

On our wedding night, Daniel had left because he believed I would still be there when he returned.

By the time he finally understood what it meant to choose his wife…

I had already learned how to choose myself.