Better Never to Meet

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To help her assistant, who was evading taxes, my boss's wife deliberately perjured herself, shifting the blame onto me.

I was left speechless, punished by law, and detained for two months. After my release, I was ostracized by outraged colleagues, and my prospects for promotion were ruined.

Seeing my quiet acceptance, my wife thought I had finally become compliant and announced a grand wedding to make it up to me.

However, during the wedding vows, the assistant, consumed by jealousy, ran to the company rooftop, threatening suicide if my wife didn't cancel the wedding.

My wife, who had always indulged his every whim, panicked. She abandoned everyone at the wedding, publicly fleeing to comfort her assistant all night.

Afterward, she calmly explained to me.

"Bob is young and impulsive; I was just afraid something might happen to him."

"Besides, he helped a lot with your early release. Strictly speaking, he's your savior, and I couldn't just abandon him."

I looked at the couple's rings, newly placed on her finger, and simply hummed, saying nothing.

My wife, believing I had accepted her excuse, was quite pleased and, for the first time ever, promised to take me on a honeymoon trip once she had appeased her assistant.

But she seemed to forget.

She had already signed the divorce papers, and I had filed a lawsuit with the court for a case review.

From then on, we were no longer husband and wife.

Just plaintiff and defendant.

1.

The day after my wife, Scarlett Willow, fled our wedding, the company chat group was still buzzing with discussions about the events.

Even at work, I received numerous pitying glances from colleagues.

"What do you think? After such a huge shock, how will Nathan Stone retaliate this time? Will he cause a scene at the company with Scarlett? Or will he put up banners cursing Bob Barclay?"

"Probably not, I saw he was pretty calm even after Scarlett ran away from the wedding yesterday."

"Maybe he was in there for three months and is afraid Scarlett will divorce him, so he doesn't dare to stop her anymore."

As I walked into the office, several colleagues were roaring with laughter.

They fell silent when I entered.

In the past, I would have been angry, but now, I said nothing, pretending not to hear, and in the midst of their intense stares, I sat down at my desk.

They were right; three months in prison had smoothed out my rough edges.

Moreover, I had mentally prepared for their mockery.

Everyone in the company knew about the scandalous relationship between Scarlett, her assistant Bob Barclay, and me.

Scarlett and I had been together since college, our relationship always strong. After graduation, I excelled and was offered a high-paying job at the company, while Scarlett, with her mediocre qualifications, struggled to find work. It was I who pulled strings to get her hired.

I stayed up until dawn helping her with tasks she couldn't do, and I went out of my way to fix her mistakes.

Later, during an internal promotion, I even voluntarily gave up my spot for her.

No matter how tired or exhausted I was, seeing her happy made everything feel worthwhile.

But two years ago, Scarlett risked being fired to exceptionally hire Bob Barclay, who didnt even qualify for an interview. Her excuse to me back then was that seeing him reminded her of her past self.

Even though I was annoyed, to help her, I personally and diligently trained Bob until he could work independently.

I didn't expect Bob to be grateful, but I never imagined I'd overhear him complaining to Scarlett, accusing me of constantly suppressing and insulting him.

I couldn't help but confront him, but Scarlett said I was guilty and, without any investigation, demoted me.

After that, she targeted me everywhere for Bob.

She'd dump Bob's responsibilities on me; she'd put Bob's name on designs I had painstakingly created; she even asked me to drive two hours in winter to buy Bob's favorite breakfast.

I thought she was just confused for a while.

But who knew, during this tax audit, Scarlett, to protect him, colluded with other colleagues to report me, pinning the blame on me. She even used her status as my wife to plant false evidence in my room beforehand.

Faced with this sudden betrayal, I was utterly speechless.

During my three months of detention, she only visited me once.

She said she would never divorce me. I thought she still had feelings for me, but who knew it was just to make me give up and not involve Bob.

I scoffed at the thought.

My phone chimed with a message; I opened it to find it was from the lawyer I had contacted earlier.

"The picture you sent last night is crucial evidence, but the file is too fragmented. The agency says it will take three days to restore it to its original state."

"However, other evidence is already conclusive. If you're in a hurry, we can file the lawsuit now."

It was just an ordinary message, yet I gripped my phone tightly, my knuckles turning white.

After my release, I stayed by Scarlett's side, putting aside our past grievances. She thought I was too scared to divorce her, that I had learned my place.

But she didn't know that every single day and night, I was searching for evidence to prove my innocence.

Now, finally...

I exhaled deeply, my voice firm.

"No hurry, set the lawsuit date for three days from now."

"No matter the cost, no matter the price, this lawsuit must be won."

The lawyer was momentarily stunned, then stated solemnly: "Upholding justice is our mission. The law will not let any innocent person suffer injustice, nor will it let any criminal go unpunished."

After hanging up, I was about to turn off the screen when Bob Barclay sent a message.

I opened it and saw a picture.

He and Scarlett were in the kitchen. Scarlett wore an apron around her waist, her head bent as she cooked. Bob playfully pressed his cheek against hers, an intimate pose.

Scarlett's lips curved slightly, seemingly enjoying his closeness.

But before, if I even lightly touched her, she would push me away with extreme disgust, saying she hated physical closeness with men.

Now it seems she didn't hate men, just me.

With one call from me, Sister Scarlett abandoned the wedding and stayed with me all night. Brother Nathan, youve been married to Sister Scarlett for five years, and shes never been that attentive to you, has she?

His tone was as proud and provocative as ever.

I knew he was doing it on purpose.

Before, I had complained to Scarlett about him, but she wouldnt even look at it. Instead, shed impatiently ask if I had provoked Bob, otherwise, why would he pick on me and not others?

She said she wouldn't interfere in our "men's disputes," but after I angrily retaliated against Bob, what followed was Scarlett's reprimand. She'd blame me for making a big deal out of nothing, accusing me of being petty and easily provoked by a single sentence.

I scoffed, intending to ignore it, but then I noticed that if I didn't reply, Bob would keep sending more photos. I saved each one and forwarded them to the lawyer as supplementary evidence.

Then I blocked and deleted him.

Less than two minutes later, Scarletts call came through.

Nathan, did you unfriend Bob?

As soon as I answered, Scarlett questioned me with a tone of disgust.

Whats gotten into you? Dont you know this kind of behavior is childish? Dont forget, you and Bob still have to work together in the future. You unfriended him, are you not going to handle work anymore?

I said nothing.

Whatever I said was wrong, whatever I did was wrong.

Scarlett, however, took my silence as guilt, and her tone became even more aggressive: "Apologize to Bob, add him back, and I can let this go."

"Sister Scarlett, no matter what, Brother Nathan is your boyfriend. It's not right for him to apologize to me. I've already forgiven him, so let's just drop it." Before I could speak, Bob said, his voice tinged with grievance.

He seemed to be speaking up for me, but I knew he was trying to provoke.

Indeed, Scarlett scoffed.

So what if hes my boyfriend? Im always fair; I dont play favorites. Im just afraid some people use the excuse of being a boyfriend to act recklessly.

Nathan, Im asking you one more time, do you know you were wrong?

I smiled: Yes, I know I was wrong.

Wrong for not seeing through her sooner, for not returning her to Bob Barclay sooner.

But before I could speak, Scarlett hummed in satisfaction: Knowing youre wrong is enough. Considering youve just been released from prison and might still be a bit disoriented, Bob and I wont pursue this.

Bob also helped a lot with your release this time. No matter how you look at it, you owe him an apology.

No need to be so polite, Sister Scarlett, its what I should do.

Youre just too kind. But, Ive made up my mind on this, dont refuse again.

The two of them went back and forth, giving me no room to interject, and then Scarlett hung up.

And I quickly realized Scarlett's decision.

It was her taking twenty thousand from my card and transferring it to Bob Barclay without my authorization.

2.

When Scarlett Willow agreed to marry me, I gave her my bank card PIN to show my sincerity.

I silently approved of her using my card, thinking we were a family, and besides, as a man, I should contribute more to our home.

Initially, she only bought our daily necessities, but later, seeing my indifference, she started buying herself designer clothes, luxury bags, and cosmetics costing hundreds, even thousands.

My monthly salary was thirty thousand, but by mid-month, my bank card would only have a few cents left, not even enough for a meal. I couldn't help but mention it to her twice, and Scarlett, in a fit of pique, accused me of being stingy with money, declaring she would no longer rely on me and would become a "strong independent woman."

Later, she did stop extravagant spending, but I noticed that she still had fixed expenses of twenty thousand every month.

It wasn't until recently that I discovered it was for gifts for Bob Barclay.

Scarlett told me to save money diligently, not even allowing me to buy underwear that cost ten dollars for three pairs, yet a pair of socks she bought for Bob cost three hundred.

She preached frugality, while I patched up a pair of cheap market shoes for two years, she bought Bob two pairs of thousand-dollar sneakers within a month.

She also insisted on meticulous planning; shed even meticulously plan the exact grammage of ingredients for a meal for me, yet she and Bob would spend over ten thousand dollars on a single meal celebrating his birthday.

Thinking about it now, I felt increasingly ridiculous.

However, large transfers require personal verification.

Soon, Scarlett sent me a message as usual: Verification code.

I glanced at our past chats. I didnt know when it started, but the only messages Scarlett actively sent me were these three words.

She had even complained that verification codes were bothersome and wanted me to link a sub-card for her use. But I, who had always been compliant with her every wish, for some unknown reason at that moment, was inexplicably prompted to refuse.

Thinking back now, perhaps my subconscious self was already trying to save myself.

I scoffed, ignored it, and after leaving the company, I first drafted divorce papers, then took the property deed to the nearest real estate agent.

The house was purchased outright by my parents as our matrimonial home when we got married, specifically choosing a location Scarlett liked.

During the transfer of ownership, to put her mind at ease, my parents even specifically arranged for me to add her name. However, over the years, whenever my parents wanted to stay for a couple of days, Scarlett would still complain, making me tell them I was busy with work.

Thinking back now, I really was unfilial.

Upon learning I wanted to sell the house, the agent informed me that Scarlett's signature was still required.

I told them I had proof of full payment, and after reviewing it, the agent explained: "This can be used as evidence in court, but if you follow the normal process, both signatures are still needed."

I understood.

I couldnt reveal my intentions to Scarlett just yet. Before going to court, I had to completely sever ties with her.

After thanking the agent, I asked for a template of a power of attorney agreement and returned home.

I had expected Scarlett to return late tonight, but upon opening the door, I saw her sitting on the sofa, her face grim.

Seeing me enter, she cast a cold glance at me.

She stood up and walked into the bedroom, slamming the door shut with a deafening bang.

This was a ritual after every cold war, and I understood it meant she wanted me to apologize and appease her.

Despite my reluctance, I sighed as I looked at the agreement in my hand, and walked to the door.

Anyway, Id apologized so many times; one more wouldnt hurt.

Moreover, this apology would allow me to reclaim the entire house.

Thinking this, I pushed open the bedroom door. Before I could even step inside, her usual eyebrow razor was thrown at me. I instinctively dodged, but it still grazed my face, causing a sharp sting.

Seeing that she had actually injured me, Scarlett froze for a moment, a complex expression flashing in her eyes.

Then, she returned to her usual self.

I expected her to make me kneel and apologize again, or transfer some money to appease her, as she used to do.

To my surprise, she spoke earnestly for the first time ever.

"Nathan, I know you're still bothered by the wedding, but I explained to you yesterday, Bob is young and impulsive, he really could have done something reckless."

"My going to him was also for your sake. If something truly happened to him, would you really be able to live the rest of your life in peace?"

I found it amusing: "Why wouldn't I be able to?"

Scarlett sounded exasperated: "Not to mention he's still a human life, he's also our colleague. We've been together for so many years, how can we just watch him die?"

"Besides, he helped a lot with your release this time. If it weren't for his connections, do you think you'd have gotten out so quickly?"

I found it amusing, like listening to a fantasy.

Why didn't she consider that if it weren't for him, I wouldn't have gone to prison in the first place?

Moreover, my lawyer had told me that under normal investigation, my situation wouldn't have led to three months of detention. Whether his "connections" were to help me or harm me, no one truly knew.

I didn't tell Scarlett any of this; she wouldn't believe it anyway.

Seeing my silence, Scarlett thought she had convinced me and chuckled.

This time I used your card also to earn some good karma for you. Your imprisonment this time might be because you were too stingy usually, so God couldnt stand it anymore and made you bleed heavily.

Do you really think I care about your petty few dollars?

After speaking dismissively, Scarlett noticed the documents in my hand.

"What's that in your hand?"

"I'm going to sell this house."

"Sell the house?"

Scarlett raised an eyebrow.

I was deliberating what excuse to use to persuade her, but then I heard Scarlett cover her mouth and laugh: "So you've finally decided to listen to me and sell this one for a bigger house?"

"I told you long ago, this house has bad feng shui, and the new development next door isn't bad. I had someone look at it..."

Scarlett chattered on.

I realized that before my imprisonment, Scarlett had constantly urged me to sell this house and move to the newly developed property next door.

To get me to agree, shed praise it to high heaven, but I knew she was only doing all this because Bob Barclay was planning to buy a house there, and she wanted to move closer to him.

I didn't correct her; I nodded: "You're right, I'll go take care of the paperwork tomorrow."

Before, whenever there was some troublesome paperwork, I was always the one to handle it. So, Scarlett didn't think much of it and signed the proxy agreement without hesitation.

After she signed, I naturally flipped to the last page of the divorce agreement.

Why is this different from the first two documents?

Scarlett noticed the discrepancy and was about to look at the cover.

Just then, her phone suddenly rang. She merely glanced at it, and her brows softened into a smile. She lost all interest in looking at the agreement, hastily signing the last page.

Alright, you can go now, I have things to do. Scarlett waved me away.

Even without her saying it, I knew the call was from Bob Barclay.

Every night, they would talk for nearly half an hour before bed.

I don't know what they had planned this time, but for the next two days, Scarlett left early and returned late.

I no longer kindly inquired, only to be chastised by her for being meddlesome, as I had in the past.

This time, I focused on my own affairs.

The next day, I went to the real estate agency and submitted the power of attorney agreement.

To sell the house as quickly as possible, I listed the price very low. In less than half a day, a buyer viewed the house and closed the deal directly.

On the third day, my lawyer informed me that the evidence had been successfully restored, and the court had already begun hearing the case.

Everything was set in stone.

As soon as the case reopened, all the injustices I had suffered would be returned twofold.