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In the third year of our marriage, my husband, Silas Voss's first love returned from overseas. That night, I saw them on the hashtag. [Silas Picks Up Someone in the Midnight, Suspected of Rekindling His First Love.] In the photo, the man who didn't even bother to hold my hand was carefully helping a woman in a white dress open the car door. It was raining heavily, and he was holding an umbrella for her, with half of his shirt wet. His profile looked gentle. That day was our wedding anniversary. And I, sitting at the table with cold dishes, was living like a joke.