Wife Or Mistress? The Shocking Truth About My Marriage - Chapter 133: Chapter 133

The exhibition was going smoothly. Kenton didn't know that I'd been watching him all afternoon.
Even as the crowds thinned, I still stood there holding the cake I'd prepared for him.
Just as I was about to approach him, the girl who had been talking to him at noon suddenly jumped behind him and covered his eyes.
"Hey, Kenton! It's your birthday, and we've prepared a surprise for you!"
Then the crowd began clapping and cheering as a professor wheeled out a large cake.
So... it turns out that he didn't need my cake with its sloppily applied frosting.
Some remaining visitors were invited to share the cake. The scene was heartwarming and joyful, but why did I feel like my chest was being crushed?
Like I couldn't breathe.
I could only flee, running out of the venue in panic.
I couldn't help looking back one last time. Through the glass wall, I saw the girl placing a birthday crown on his head.
Last year, I was the one who put that crown on him. Since it was just the two of us, he thought it was silly.
This year, he had a whole group celebrating with him.
Would he remember me? The one who celebrated every birthday with him?
I took out my phone and sent him a text:
[Happy birthday.]
Of course, he was too busy to check his phone. So I crouched by the glass wall and slowly scrolled through our entire conversation history.
I realized I sent him so many messages every day, while he always responded with just a few words.
I was always the one saying goodnight; he never replied.
I was always the one calling; sometimes he answered, sometimes he didn't.
Kenton never strung me along—he would tell me plainly not to bother him.
My phone suddenly vibrated in my hand. Looking up, I realized he had spotted me from the other side of the glass.
I could imagine his frowning expression.
"I told you not to come. Was that necessary?" he said when I answered.
"I just wanted to celebrate your birthday with you."
"My birthday can't be celebrated some other time?"
"Yeah, today's your birthday. Don't be angry. Happy birthday, Kenton."
I tried to smile, but my heart hurt too much.
He sighed, softening his tone.
"Come inside. Have you eaten dinner?"
"Why are you just standing there?" Impatience crept back into his voice.
"It's nothing," I sniffled, tapping the glass wall.
From this distance, I still couldn't make out his expression clearly.
"I won't be celebrating your birthday with you after all."
"And probably won't be celebrating with you in the future either."
"I'm letting you go, Kenton."
I don't know how he reacted because I hung up.
I searched for the block button for a long time, finally managing to block him just as his second call came through.
I was still holding the cake I'd made for him. It wasn't very pretty and had probably gotten jostled during the journey—the writing was probably crooked by now.
I hastily shoved the entire cake into a nearby trash can.
Suddenly I remembered clumsily writing on the cake with frosting that morning.
It had said:
[Happy Birthday.]
[To Kenton, who I love more than anyone in the world.]