Five Years of Marriage Wasted

Today is the fifth anniversary of my marriage to my husband, Darnell Golden. I specifically took a day off to prepare a special meal for him at home.

Standing in front of the mirror, I repeatedly adjusted my makeup and hairstyle, striving for perfection. In the bedside drawer, I had placed the lingerie I had bought earlier, and I even prepared wine and flowers for a pleasant evening.

I met my husband, Darnell, during our university days. He and a few friends started a small company, while I pursued a career as a novelist.

Normally, I wouldn't bother with such attempts to please him, but his cold attitude over the past six months had sparked a strong sense of crisis within me.

Just then, I received a message on my phone.

"There's something urgent at work tonight, I have to work overtime. You rest early."

At the moment I read that message, all my enthusiasm was crushed to ashes.

Relentlessly, I asked him, "Can you come back earlier? Have you forgotten what day it is today?"

My message was met with silence.

I waited for half an hour, but unable to wait any longer, I decided to call him. However, there was no answer.

During the early days of the company, Darnell had to work hard to come up with plans and seek collaborations, often returning home drunk.

I understood the hardships of his work, so I always prepared a bowl of sobering soup for him when he returned.

I had played the role of a docile and obedient wife for five years, but I couldn't accept being stood up on our wedding anniversary.

After all, we had agreed a week ago that he would come back to celebrate with me.

I casually changed into a jacket and took a taxi to Darnell's company.

His car was not parked downstairs, so I called him again, but still, no one answered.

I don't know when it happened, but we went from being a loving newlywed couple to this strange state where he could disappear whenever he wanted.

Every time, he would use his overtime and exhaustion as an excuse, asking me to be understanding.

Suppressing my chaotic thoughts, I returned home with a sense of disappointment.

It wasn't until midnight that Darnell returned, stumbling in with a drunken body, and the sound of the door opening woke me up.

The carefully arranged dishes on the table had long gone cold, and the bottle of sobering soup was ready, but there was no one to drink the wine.

Darnell's first reaction upon seeing me was a frown. "Didn't I tell you? I had something urgent at work today, and I asked you to rest early. Why are you still up so late?"

"I just took a short nap on the sofa. Is something urgent happening at the company? Is it very important?"

I rubbed my eyes and walked over to take his coat.

But in the next moment, I froze in place.

Even though there was a strong smell of alcohol, I could still faintly detect the scent of rose perfume.

Clearly, I didn't own any perfume with that fragrance.

I stared at him in confusion, forcefully suppressing the thoughts in my heart.

It couldn't be true. I must have misunderstood. Perhaps there was a female client at the dinner who was wearing rose perfume.

In my mind, Darnell was always ambitious and responsible. Whenever he was around, it seemed like there was no problem that couldn't be solved.

I should trust him unconditionally.