Why I Divorced Over His Viral Mistress Kiss

Synopsis

On my wedding anniversary, my husband was in Rome, watching the fireworks display with his childhood sweetheart. Beneath the Colosseum, enveloped by the romantic glow of street lamps, they held each other close and kissed. If that man weren't my husband, I might have offered my congratulations more sincerely. To carve out time for Adrian and our anniversary, I worked tirelessly, cramming a week's worth of tasks into just three or four days. Marisol laughed and cheerfully granted me a few days off to relax at home. Reflecting on how my busy schedule had distanced me from Adrian recently, I resolved to prepare an elaborate dinner tonight to make it up to him. After preparing a table full of dishes, exhaustion overcame me, and I collapsed onto the sofa, absentmindedly scrolling through Instagram. Suddenly, a local video appeared with the title: "Enduring youthful romance, still going strong." Filmed by a blogger on the streets of Italy, comments praised the couple's idyllic romance as if it were straight out of a movie. But as I watched, my heart sank, and clutching my phone tightly, I replied: "Hahaha, they're a perfect match, if the guy weren't my husband."