After My Husband Denied Me At His Victory

The day my husband’s team won the championship, he stood on stage as both the captain and one of the only two men in the international tournament. He had promised to unveil the identity of his mysterious wife. That evening, I washed my weary hands, slipped into my most elegant Victorian dress, and waited anxiously backstage, hoping to hear my name.

But under the glare of countless spotlights, he stood with the team's vice-captain and announced to the cameras that she was the love of his life. I was lost in the sea of cheering fans, my phone screen displaying a terse, unemotional message from him.

"Amaris has had feelings for me for three years, and the fans are rooting for us to be together. You’re just a regular person; revealing our marriage would harm my career."

That night, I didn't break down or question him as I usually would. Instead, I quietly removed the ring from my finger and watched as he and Amaris kissed under the lights. We had supported each other for twenty years, but this time, I decided to live for myself.

In the midst of endless cheers, I glanced at my phone screen, almost hearing Reign’s voice as if he were speaking the words. A spotlight swept across me. The wedding ring on my finger glistened in the light, much like my past feelings for Reign, which had once been vibrant and beautiful. But that was all in the past.

I turned off my phone, taking off the ring. I hadn't removed it once since we married a year ago. It left a faint mark on my finger, a stark reminder. I turned and tossed the ring into the jubilant crowd. On stage, Reign and Amaris were still locked in an embrace, their hands tightly intertwined as if they'd never part.

I left the venue, hailed a cab, and went back home to start packing my things. This was the home Reign and I shared, yet as I packed, I realized how little of it actually belonged to me.

Outside, rain had begun to pour, and it wasn't until the early hours, after celebrating his victory with teammates, that Reign finally returned home. He squinted as he flopped onto the couch, covering his face with one hand, looking utterly drained. The room was faintly scented with alcohol; as an esports player, smoking and drinking are off-limits as they impair reaction times.

But Reign loved to have a good time, and I used to trail behind him, nagging him. Now, it didn't seem worth the effort.

“Ivanna, I want some pulled pork,” Reign mumbled, reclining on the couch with his eyes still closed, calling my name softly. Since he arrived, he hadn't opened his eyes to look at me even once.

I stayed silent, set down my suitcase, and took out the divorce papers I had prepared long ago, bringing them to him. Not out of fear, but because I simply couldn't face it before.

“What’s