I was scrolling through a popular social media channel when I came across a street interview.
What would you say to yourself from five years ago?
In the video, Christian Frost had his arm around his new girlfriend. His voice was calm, laced with affection.
I'd tell the Christian from five years ago to find Lily Lin sooner.
The girl in his arms blushed, covering her mouth as she agreed. Me too.
Online comments exploded with adoration, followers showering them with blessings.
No one knew that five years ago was the day Christian and I got married.
Even he had forgotten.
Until a week later.
The same channel posted another street interview.
In this one, I looked directly into the camera and said, seriously, If I could, I'd tell her: Claire Kingsley, don't marry Christian Frost. You'll regret it.
This time, Christian saw it.
The day I agreed to the divorce was a perfectly ordinary afternoon.
I called Alexander's number, but it was Emily who answered.
Hello?
I'm looking for Alexander.
He's in the shower. Is there something I can help you with?
Her voice was as bright and fearless as ever, tinged with a possessive, almost triumphant, undertone.
The old me would have screamed, would have hysterically demanded she get lost, that I needed to speak to Alexander.
But now, I knew all too well that Emily was the only one who could get him on the phone. I couldn't let her hang up on me like she always did, leaving me to rage like a madwoman.
He mentioned a divorce before. I agree to it, I said calmly, getting straight to the point.
There was a second of silence on the other end, then she repeated, disbelieving, You're agreeing to a divorce?
Yes.
The word had barely left my lips when I heard a rustling sound. Alexander must have taken the phone.
Soon, his deep, indifferent voice was in my ear. It's me.
I know.
Hearing his voice, I felt a strange sense of detachment. It had been six months since he'd moved out of our villa to be with Emily. We hadn't spoken since.
The last thing he'd said to me was: Jennifer, let's get a divorce. If you don't agree, I'll file for legal separation and then sue.
Now, half a year later, I had finally caved.
Emily said you want to divorce me? he asked when I didn't speak.
He must have been frowning as he said it, his tone laced with a hint of confusion. I couldn't understand where his confusion was coming from. He was the one who had brought it up.
But I no longer had the energy to argue with him about who initiated it.
I just hummed in agreement. If you have time, let's meet and sign the papers.
Then, I hung up.

It was the first time I had ever hung up on him since discovering his affair.
Before, I was the one bombarding his phone with calls and texts. I'd used the most vicious words to curse him and the most heartbroken sobs to beg him.
But every time, Alexander would say, annoyed, Can you stop acting like a lunatic? Talk to me when you've calmed down.
Then he would mercilessly end the call, ignoring my frantic attempts to reach him again.
I wanted to be calm, but whenever I thought about our years together ending like this, I couldn't control myself. I wanted to demand answers, to know why he had betrayed me. I wanted to beg him to come back, promising I would forgive him.
But all my pleading and waiting had led to nothing. Alexander remained unchanged.
And I, slowly, became the insecure, unhinged person he accused me of being.
A real lunatic.
I floated through a long period in a haze, drowning in the agony of our relationship.
Until three days ago.
I stumbled upon a street interview video by a content creator called Time Capsule. The question was: What would you say to yourself from five years ago?
Some said they'd study harder. Others wished they'd spent more time with their families. One person proudly declared that their future self was amazing, having lived up to all their expectations.
And then, amidst the stream of answers, I saw him. Alexander, with his new girlfriend, Emily.
That's how I knew it wasn't scripted. Given Alexander's current status, even the most famous creators had to book appointments to see him. This interviewer had truly just caught him on the street, like any other random passerby.