I Was the Anonymous Wife

At the class reunion, our former teacher, Mr. Wallace, suddenly asked everyone about their relationship status.

He first asked Madison Taylor, the prettiest girl in our class:

Back then, to help you all focus on your studies, I deliberately confiscated the love letter you wrote to Evan Pierce. Do you still resent me for that?

Madison's eyes brimmed with tears as she gazed tenderly at my husband, Evan Pierce, then shook her head.

Mr. Wallace then turned to Evan:

"If you could turn back time, would you accept Madison's confession and make up for that missed opportunity?"

Without hesitation, Evan said:

"I would."

Everyone started cheering.

"You two are truly meant for each other!"

I looked down at the cheap wedding ring on my finger.

Just yesterday, we had celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary.

Evan had told me he would never betray me in this lifetime.

Now it seemed I was the only one who had taken him seriously.

Having gotten the answer he wanted, Mr. Wallace's smile relaxed.

He raised his glass with a sigh:

"Back then, to avoid affecting your college entrance exams, I had to be the bad guy and keep you two apart."

"But now knowing you still have a chance, I feel much better."

Good-natured laughter filled the private room.

The class president took the lead:

"Mr. Wallace, we all understand your intentions. Besides, the lovebirds didn't miss their chancesometimes fate just takes its time. Maybe this reunion is the perfect opportunity. Right, Evan?"

Evan smiled without responding, as if in agreement.

Madison's face turned even redder as she practically buried herself under the table.

Only I stared at my glass, my eyes unfocused.

Because back in high school, the person dating Evan was me.

Madison had only written him a love letter.

But everyone believed that Madison was the one who should be with Evan.

Even Evan had hidden the ring on his finger.

Suddenly, Madison looked at me and said apologetically:

"Mia, could you switch seats with me? I'd like to sit next to Evan."

The chatter in the room died down as everyone turned to look at me.

The class president laughed first:

"Oh, can't wait already, Madison?"

He pointed at me with a hint of suggestion and urging.

"Come on, Mia, I've got a seat here. Switch over and don't get in the way of their quality time."

Another round of laughter.

Madison bit her lower lip, looking at me expectantly.

I looked at Evan.

"Should I switch?"

I asked softly.

Evan didn't look at meas if deliberately avoiding my gaze, or perhaps not wanting others to notice our connection.

He gave an almost imperceptible nod.

He wanted me to switch.

I picked up my glass and drained it in one gulp.

Then I set down the glass, pushed back my chair, stood up, and sat down next to the class president.

Each movement was as precise as a robot's.

Madison smiled at me gratefully and happily took the seat next to Evan.

Someone spoke up suggestively:

"Look at themdon't they look just like when they secretly took their graduation photo together?"

I froze, almost forgetting to mask my expression.

"They really do," the athletics rep said with a laugh, slinging his arm around someone's shoulders. "Back during graduation photos, only Evan and Madison got special treatment. They said they didn't want to take photos with unimportant people, so they specifically asked me to excuse them. I remember Mia even asked me where Evan was."

"In the end, I made up some excuse about Evan spraining his ankle to cover for them."

"Evan, is that photo of you and Madison still your profile background?"

Evan's profile background hadn't changed since graduation year.

Two figures in school uniforms, seen from behind.

He had told me it was a stock photo he found online to make up for not taking graduation photos.

Turns out, it was him and Madison.

I lowered my head and looked at the ring on my finger. Under the light, it hurt my eyes.

"Oh, right," Mr. Wallace suddenly turned to me with a caring smile, "I almost forgot to ask you, Mia. You were always so introverted in school and rarely came to our reunions. Are you married now?"

The room fell silent for a moment.

Evan's hand froze mid-air as he stared directly at me.

That look was filled with anxiety and warning.

Then someone kicked my shin.

The cold leather of the shoe touched my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

I didn't need to guess who it was.

After five years of marriage, the last time I'd seen Evan this flustered was when we met each other's parents before our wedding.

He was afraid I'd embarrass him in front of his parents, so he had specifically set up secret signals to tell me when to shut up.

I didn't look down, nor did I look at Evan.

I smiled at Mr. Wallace:

"I am married, but... we'll be divorced soon."

Across the table, Evan's body went rigid.

The smile froze on Mr. Wallace's face. After a moment, he stammered an apology:

"I'm sorry, Mia. I didn't mean to bring up something painful."

"But... why divorce?"

He frowned, habitually adopting the tone he used to counsel students:

"Marriage is a serious matter. It's not easy for two people to be together. If there are problems that can be resolved, you should try to work through them. Don't act rashly out of anger..."

"I'm not acting out of anger."

I smiled at him, my voice just loud enough for everyone at the table to hear.

"His heart belongs to someone else. There's no point. Might as well end it." I smiled.

Mr. Wallace's words caught in his throat. He nodded awkwardly:

"Well... I suppose you should divorce then..."

Madison rested her head on Evan's shoulder, her smile unchanged:

"Oh, I see. I thought it was..."

"Thought what?"

The athletics rep, drunk, instinctively probed.

Madison glanced at me with an ambiguous look, mumbling:

"Nothing, just thought Mia was still being delusional..."

Delusional.

That had been the entire class's unanimous assessment of me throughout high school.

Because I was just an ordinary girlordinary family background, ordinary grades, ordinary looksyet I delusionally liked Evan Pierce.

Meanwhile, the genius student and the gentle school beauty were everyone's ideal couple.

I wasn't as pretty as Madison, so I didn't deserve to like Evan.

So even though Evan and I had known each other since childhood.

Even though Evan had allowed me to stay by his side.

Even though back then, Madison and Evan weren't togetherI was Evan's actual girlfriend.

None of that mattered. They all thought I was delusional.

And Evan remained the same as always.

Eyes on his nose, nose on his heart.

Too lazy to even say "Mia is my girlfriend."

"Come on, let's not bring up the past. Mia's already married," the class president coughed lightly, changing the subject. "Mia, good men are everywhere. I know a few suitable guys. Give me your phoneI'll introduce you."

The class president moved closer with enthusiasm.

"Enough"

Evan suddenly kicked the table, a smile on his lips:

"She's not officially divorced yet. Wait until then."

"Evan's right. Wait until she's divorced."

"What if her husband finds out and comes after you? Haha."

Everyone joined in the teasing.

The class president caught on and downed a drink as self-punishment.

"Alright, alright, my bad. Mia, just let me know when you need help. We're all old classmatesdon't be shy."

I murmured agreement with a smile.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Madison take out hand cream and say something to Evan.

Evan's eyes crinkled as he squeezed a thick dollop onto his own hands.

The scent was strongI could smell the gardenia fragrance even from across the table.

The old Evan hated artificial fragrances.

Because of this, in all our years of marriage, I never used hand cream, and even carefully selected unscented body wash.

Turns out he didn't hate fragrances.

He just didn't like me using them.

For the rest of the evening, Evan and I had a tacit understanding.

I chatted with the class president about old times.

He and Madison were inseparable, whispering things only they could hear.

We didn't disturb each other, distant as strangers with no connection.

Even when leaving, we went separately.

I grabbed my bag and left the private room first.

Evan had driven, so he went to the parking garage first and brought the car to the hotel entrance.

Classmates trickled away. Evan opened the car door and carefully helped the tipsy Madison into the vehicle.

The entire time, he didn't glance at me once.

The class president was supporting the drunk Mr. Wallace. Seeing me staring at Evan's car, he laughed:

"Mia, stop looking. Evan's always been particularhe won't even look at people he doesn't like. I drove here too. I'll give you a ride later."

The class president meant well, so naturally I didn't refuse.

I nodded and followed him to his car.

Outside the window, streetlights lit up one by one, casting dim yellow circles on the asphalt like abandoned periods marking the end of sentences.

The class president turned down the AC and asked softly, "Cold?"

I shook my head, but my gaze followed the hotel's shrinking silhouette in the rearview mirror.

Suddenly I remembered the years I'd spent helping Evan build his business from nothing.

We'd lived in a basement apartment, splitting ten-dollar takeout meals between us.

The ring on my hand was from that time.

From a street vendor. Sixty-eight dollars.

He said he'd use this ring to forever remember the hardships I endured with him.

I remembered how, after making it big, he drove his new car and took me to the beach, promising:

"From now on, you're the only one who'll ever sit in my passenger seat."

And yesterday, on our fifth anniversary, he'd said apologetically:

"Mia, I've been unfair to you all these years. I'll never let you down in this lifetime."

Now it seemed he'd forgotten.

Only I had taken him seriously.

My phone suddenly buzzeda message from Evan.

[Good job tonight, but the divorce excuse was too frivolous. Don't use it again.]

I laughed and exited our chat.

Of course I knew divorce wasn't frivolous.

But he didn't know I was serious.

When I got home, I tossed my bag on the floor and sighed deeply before washing up.

Two hours passed. Evan still wasn't home.

Out of habit, I picked up my phone to ask where he was.

Opening the chat, I realized it wasn't hard to guess.

Late at night, a man and woman alonewhat might happen wasn't hard to imagine.

Just like in our five years of marriage, Evan treated me well in every way.

Except he refused to acknowledge our marriage in front of classmates, refused to tell them I was his wife.

The reason wasn't hard to guess either.

I opened my photo gallery to a hidden album containing a screenshot from Evan's phone.

On our wedding night, Evan was distracted, standing on the balcony with his phone for a long time.

He said he had wedding jitters, but I knew.

He was looking at Madison's social media.

I'd secretly taken that screenshot that night.

He wrote: "When are you coming back?"

She replied: "Give me another five years."

This year marked exactly five years.

I touched the photo with my finger, then deleted it.

I removed the wedding ring I'd treasured for five years and placed it on the bathroom counter.

I scheduled an appointment with a divorce attorney my friend had recommended, turned off my phone, and went to sleep.

That night, I slept restlessly.

In my dreams, I kept remembering high schoolEvan and I secretly sharing earbuds to listen to music, hiding from Mr. Wallace.

And the moment of shock and delight in his eyes when he received Madison's love letter.

Tears fell onto my pillowcase.

The next morning, I put on makeup and changed into the blue dress from my closet.

Evan didn't like blue, so I'd never worn this dress after buying it.

As I was about to leave, Evan came home.

Seeing the blue dress, he paused:

"Madison had too much to drink last night. She was alone, and I was worried something might happen, so I slept on her couch."

I looked up at him, somewhat surprised.

I hadn't expected him to explain.

Evan took off his jacket and approached me, his tone casual:

"Why'd you dig out this dress? Didn't you used to dislike blue?"

I walked past him and changed my shoes.

"I've always liked it. You just never knew."

Evan watched me, the ease in his eyes fading.

"What's wrong?"

"Why are you so angry this early?"

"You were never like this before."

My movement paused for a moment.

Before, I wasn't like this because I hadn't completely lost hope.

Now, things were different.

"Look, stop being mad. What happened yesterday wasn't intentional. You know Madisonshe's sensitive. If I hadn't responded, she would've felt terrible."

"I'll make it up to you. How about we travel somewhere next week? The Maldives? I saw it on Madison's feed..."

"Evan."

I interrupted him.

He froze slightly, a rare confusion in his eyes.

I looked at him and said softly:

"We..."

Before I could finish, Evan suddenly grabbed my hand and demanded:

"Your ring? Where's your ring?!"