"Sure."

Frank smiled at me, looking relaxed.

"Don't worry, I will definitely be home before twelve o'clock, and you definitely won't need to use a "Doghouse Card"."

Looking at his face, which wasn't that much different from what it was five years ago, I suppressed the sourness in my heart, and smiled slightly.

"Okay, I'll wait for you."

There were still three hours until twelve o'clock.

I paid a high price to find a errand runner, and asked him to buy me a piece of cake.

Frank's assistant, Alex, posted a status update on Moments.

Complaining that he was still working overtime, and he was the only one left in the whole company.

Frank sent me a message.

[Just arrived at the company, I will be home soon.]

There were still two hours until twelve o'clock.

When I was cleaning the album, I found a photo of Frank proposing to me.

With a thought, I posted a status update.

[Before I knew it, it's already been five years.]

Frank quickly replied.

[More than five years.]

At the same time, he also sent me a picture of the night scene.

"The night is beautiful tonight, I was thinking of you."

I didn't reply.

Because I knew that the tall building in the background of the picture was not near the company, but in the city center.

There are the city's most romantic lovers restaurants.

Jessica couldn't help but send a Moments just for me to see.

[You said you married your white moonlight, but I'm your red rose.]

In the lower left corner of the photo, Frank's left hand without his wedding ring was particularly clear.

There was still one hour until twelve o'clock.

I nestled on the sofa, looping the original wedding video while taking big bites of the cake that had been delivered by the errand runner.

But I don't know why, the cake became more and more salty as I ate it.

I thought to myself, I wouldn't like it anymore.

There were still half an hour until twelve o'clock.

Frank stopped replying to my messages.

I also consciously stopped bothering him, and turned to pack my luggage.

There was still one minute until twelve o'clock.

I took out the last "Doghouse Card" from the can, preparing to tear it open.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door.

I paused for a moment and opened the door in a hurry.

"Hello, this is the gift Mr. Frank bought for you. Please sign for it."

The staff held the jewelry box, warmly and thoughtfully.

At the same time, Frank's message popped up.

[Sorry, I have to stay at the company tonight. You can use the "Doghouse Card" if you want, and I'll bring you your favorite cake when I get home.]

I was about to reply when I accidentally knocked over the bookcase.

The wedding photo that had been placed on it for five years fell to the ground with a bang.

The glass shards were scattered all over the floor.

The staff was startled and quickly asked me.

"Miss, do you need help cleaning up?"

I shook my head, replying on my phone.

[No need to bring cake, Frank, the "Doghouse Cards" are used up.]

[Let's get a divorce.]

The next second, hundreds of messages flooded into my cell phone.