Short Marriage

Chapter 1

I’m a simple guy.

I married a notorious player.

A year later.

He came home later and later, his eyes increasingly filled with disdain.

I overheard him tell someone:

“She’s so… ordinary. What gives her the right to make me settle down?”

I let out a long sigh of relief.

Perfect.

Otherwise, I wouldn’t have had a reason to file for divorce.

That’s how simple guys are; they always consider others first.

1

Midnight.

After a two-month absence and missing our anniversary, Brett finally returned.

I was half-asleep when I was rolled over.

Before my face was buried in the pillow, I smelled a pungent perfume.

Bold, intense.

Just like Brett.

But it was a woman’s perfume.

I struggled to turn my head and saw a face that was flawlessly handsome.

His Adam’s apple bobbed like a large pigeon egg, his eight-pack abs as hard as a fortress wall, his defined obliques sharp and beautiful.

His eyes burned with desire, threatening to incinerate me.

No wonder he’d been voted the top pick for five consecutive years by those unscrupulous media outlets.

Seeing my face, Brett paused, his eyes clearing slightly, his enthusiasm instantly waning.

But he didn’t stop.

The place where our bodies touched felt like it was under a spotlight; goosebumps erupted on my skin.

I instinctively wanted to escape.

I mumbled a couple of times, “Honey,” my voice sounding clingy.

I squeaked, “Honey, why’d you come back so early?”

“I missed you so much, I was so hungry I didn’t even eat dinner.”

Brett was completely uninterested now.

He stopped, climbed out of bed, and grabbed a cigarette from the nightstand.

He said, “Are you three years old? Can’t you feed yourself?”

I breathed a sigh of relief, using this outrageous excuse of “missing him terribly” to get him off my back.

Logically, a man like Brett, who’d been through countless women, should easily see through my lie.

But I’d always acted like I adored him.

I pursued him for three years, witnessing his girlfriends come and go, yet I never gave up.

Brett called me the most long-lived simp he’d ever met.

I fell back asleep.

Brett went out to the balcony to smoke.

He was on the phone; his voice drifted faintly into my ears.

“Brett, man, it’s been ages. Have you been keeping yourself pure for your wife?”

Brett scoffed. “She’s so ordinary; what makes her think she can get me to settle down?”

“To be honest, the first time, I almost couldn’t bring myself to kiss her.”

The person on the other end laughed.

Brett said, “It’s the middle of the night; everyone’s asleep, keep it down.”

As I was drifting off, Brett returned from the balcony.

He placed a small box on my pillow.

Fighting off sleepiness, I glanced at it.

Inside was a pair of diamond earrings.

Beautiful.

If I hadn’t seen the necklace from the same collection – one that cost ten times more – I wouldn’t have known these were just a free gift.

But I wasn’t angry, I even felt a strange sense of anticipation.

A year.

After marrying me, Brett seemed to have completely settled down.

Finally, he was starting to crack.

And so was I.

2

I’m a simple guy, but I’m also a visual person.

I might be ordinary-looking, but I like handsome guys.

The thought of an unattractive man on top of me made me want to die.

Since childhood, I’ve worked incredibly hard.

Because I knew, without looks or family connections, I would never have a handsome man interested in me.

I did well on the college entrance exam, but it wasn’t enough.

985 and 211 universities were everywhere, and non-211 and non-985 universities were nothing.

Finishing my master’s wasn’t enough, so I did a Ph.D.

With my honest and hardworking demeanor and my obedience to my advisor, I graduated with honors and got a job at a top research institute.

I thought I was finally enough.

But the moment I saw Brett, I knew I was far from it.

I drank with the higher-ups, worked overtime after those drinking sessions, and even wrote papers for the boss’s kids on the weekends.

Finally, at a young age, I reached the deputy director level.

I was finally in a position to pursue Brett.

During my pursuit of Brett, others set me up on dates.

I went.

And it only strengthened my resolve to pursue Brett.

After every blind date, I’d go see Brett to refresh my eyes.

One time, it was two in the morning.

He happened to need a designated driver that night, and I didn’t hesitate.

Brett asked me, “You really like me that much?”

He asked this while a heavily intoxicated beauty, her shoulders half-bare, was sitting in the passenger seat of his convertible.

I nodded vigorously, without hesitation.

Because I don’t have a preference for unattractive men.

I said, “Brett, I love you.”

Everyone loves beauty.

That’s how the saying should be used.

If it means loving the act of making oneself beautiful, then that’s a bit superficial.

No matter what I look like, I love myself.

Brett was amused by my sudden confession.

The wind blew his messy hair back, revealing his long, thick eyelashes and eyes that were strikingly beautiful.

I suspected he’d had work done, but I didn’t care.

His pink knuckles held a thin, minty cigarette, the ash falling to the ground with the movement of his body.

“Chen Sai, you’re the first person to make me laugh in a while.”

Yes, even my name is unremarkable.

That night, he started giving me some response.

From never accepting an invitation out of ten, it became accepting one or two when he was in a good mood.

Sometimes, he’d even graciously accept the meals I brought.

But in the end, we got together.

It wasn’t like a rom-com, where he was moved by me and turned over a new leaf.

He was simply tired of playing the field and was pressured to get married by his family.

I’m highly educated, I don’t run in his circles, I have a respectable job, and I’m a good homemaker.

Brett’s entire family, except for him, liked me.

I didn’t care about the reasons.

I only knew that I no longer had to have nightmares about ugly husbands and children.

The day I announced it on social media, I was triumphant.

I proved everyone wrong who said I was delusional.

At the wedding.

Looking at Brett’s face, which could be considered a masterpiece of creation, I was flushed with excitement.

His eight-pack abs were subtly visible beneath his shirt, tempting me.

When the officiant asked us to kiss, I deliberately brushed against his… well, certain areas.

If I could tie him up…

Lost in thought, my innocent little heart skipped a beat.

Brett didn’t notice anything.

After all, I am a simple guy.

He kissed me perfunctorily; it was all technique, no emotion.

I didn’t mind, I could make myself happy.

That night.

I was so happy I felt like exploding.

My heart was like a sponge filled with water.

I let out a satisfied sigh.

The only drawback was that Brett lacked a service mentality; he didn’t consider my feelings at all.

After all, I might have been the least attractive woman he’d ever slept with.

Outside.

The streetlights were like artificial stars, making up for humanity’s loss of the actual night sky.

Looking at Brett’s sleeping face, I couldn’t help but smile.

Those sharp, thick eyebrows, that high nose bridge, those beautifully shaped lips.

He was truly handsome.

Even more handsome than those popular actors.

Except for not liking me, he was perfect.

Oh well, no one’s perfect.

As long as he didn’t get disfigured, I loved him.

Simple guys like me are devoted to love.

3

But was what I felt for Brett really love?

What is love, anyway?

Freud said, “Love stems from humanity’s desire for wholeness.”

Jung said, “Great souls are androgynous. Love at first sight is simply falling in love with another self.”

So, when I fell in love with Brett, I was perhaps pursuing a complete self.

Now that I’m whole.

The next day.

When I woke up, Brett was still asleep.

His phone was buzzing with messages; the profile pictures and names were all very Instagram-model-esque.

I didn’t look at the contents.

I thoughtfully plugged his nearly dead phone into the charger.

As I stepped over Brett, he grabbed my ankle.

Without opening his eyes, he pulled me down, making me fall on top of him.

“Give me some… attention.”

His voice was still husky from sleep, low and sexy.

A year ago, I would have eagerly jumped on him.

But now…

I awkwardly climbed off him. “Honey, a bigwig is coming today, I can’t be late.”

Brett’s expression wasn’t very good.

Before leaving, I specifically told him, “Honey, I’m going on a business trip for three days, take care of yourself.”

Fearing he hadn’t heard me, I sent him another message on WeChat.

But I was still uneasy.

Because I remembered that he’d set my WeChat messages to Do Not Disturb.

So, I sent a message to Brett’s friends:

【I’m going on a business trip for three days, please take care of Brett, thanks (grinning emoji).】

I arrived at the office on time.

That night, I worked overtime for a while.

My boss even specifically asked about me: “Chen, your business trip has been postponed, you don’t need to rush to prepare the materials, go home early!”

“I’ll leave after I finish this material.”

Although I said that, it was 10:30 PM before I left work.

10:30 PM.

From the surveillance app on my phone, I saw a woman knocking on my door.

When he opened the door, Brett was only wearing his pajama bottoms.

The woman seemed shy; Brett sized her up for a moment, then stepped aside to let her in.

I almost floored the gas pedal.

Easy, easy.

Brett wasn’t that fast.

Eleven o’clock.

I arrived at my doorstep.

My hand trembled as I opened the door, entering the wrong code once.

Opening the door, I saw a mess.

Lacy underwear, torn stockings, it was disgusting.

For a simple guy like me, this was a huge shock.

But Brett seemed much faster than I imagined; the bedroom door swung open before my eyes.

The naked woman was being ushered out the door; she said to the person inside the bedroom, “Brett, I took a plane here for you, don’t rush me out so soon, what other kinks do you like…”

The answer was a woman’s bra thrown at her by Brett.

“I’ve transferred your plane ticket money, scram.” Brett said languidly as he walked out.

The woman was still persistent. “If you don’t have feelings for me, I have a friend, she’s gorgeous, I’ll show you her picture!”

“She’s at a club nearby; let’s go check it out…”

He lifted his eyelids, glanced at the photo, before he could speak.

Then, he raised his head and saw me—

The woman instantly fell silent.

The room was quiet.

4

Before the woman left, she said, “I sent you the address, come quick!”

Brett slammed the door shut.

He turned to me, asking, “Why are you back so early? Did you eat dinner? What do you want to eat? I’ll order takeout.”

He acted normally, showing no guilt at being caught.

But he spoke more than usual.

I didn’t respond.

Brett reached for the cigarettes in the drawer.

I suddenly remembered that Brett had once really liked one of his ex-girlfriends.

She didn’t like the smell of smoke, and directly told him she didn’t want to breathe secondhand smoke.

Brett quit smoking for a period of time.

Unfortunately, that girl later went abroad for work, and the two broke up amicably due to the distance.

If they hadn’t broken up, maybe there would be no place for me.

After that, Brett never quit smoking for anyone, of course not for me.

But I also didn’t want to breathe secondhand smoke, so I would regularly collect and throw away the cigarettes at home.

Brett didn’t find any cigarettes and scratched his hair in frustration.

A few seconds later, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me.

I didn’t close my eyes; I saw the look of heroic resignation on his face.

I pushed him away.

Brett’s expression was ugly.

He had probably never been rejected by a woman.

Especially not by an ordinary woman like me.

I questioned him, “Who was that woman just now?”

“Who do you think?”

Brett’s eyes flashed with impatience.

“Chen Sai, have I spoiled you?”

“You were the one who pursued me, you were the one who desperately wanted to be with me, it’s not like you didn’t know what I was like before you got together with me, you’ve clearly accepted everything, now what are you doing?”

A few tears rolled down my cheeks, I smiled bitterly:

“I accepted the fact that the person I pursued dated and broke up with other people, dated again and broke up again.”

“But I never said I accepted my husband cheating on me.”

My tears fell.

Brett’s hand trembled, his expression changing.

But after a moment, he said, “What’s the difference? If you can’t accept it, you can divorce me.”

The word “divorce” was said lightly.

Just like when he said “break up” to each of his ex-girlfriends.

He was sure I wouldn’t leave him.

I would cry and beg him to take me back.

Just like his previous girlfriends.

Perhaps even more extreme.

Once, I thought so too.

The streetlights outside seemed to have malfunctioned.

Flickering, more like stars.

But at four or five in the morning, they would disappear in an instant, making you instantly sober.

It’s better than Cinderella, who was transformed back into a commoner at midnight; at least she was a genuinely kind and beautiful woman.

I softly said, “Okay.”

Brett was stunned; before he could react, I continued.

“Brett, let’s get a divorce.”

Brett’s face instantly became extremely ugly.

So ugly, I thought he might hit me.

He laughed angrily, “Chen Sai, you’re something!”

“Don’t regret it later, and come crawling back to me like a little dog!”

“I, Brett, am the one breaking up with you!”

As he left, he held his phone and put it on speakerphone: “Send me the address again, I’ll be right over.”

The phone was filled with the noisy music from the nightclub and the woman’s voice.

“Come quickly, my friend has heard of you, she likes you too, we can be a threesome…”

Brett left without looking back.

The door slammed shut again.

The wedding photo on the wall trembled slightly.

The handsome groom and the slightly beautified bride smiled sweetly, arm in arm.

The bride looked at the groom, her eyes full of love.

The groom looked at the camera, calm and somewhat impatient.

They didn’t look like a match at all.

It’s good that it’s over.

I let out a long sigh of relief, completely relaxed.

Actually, there’s one more thing I lied to Brett about.

My business trip isn’t three days.

It’s three years.