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Ten Years of Love, Only Regrets Remain

On the wedding anniversary, my wife, Giselle Barnard, who was traveling abroad with her male best friend, sent me a message, asking for a divorce. I texted her back calmly, "Okay." Three days later, I finished work and flew to see her. Giselle's male best friend, Coyle Moritz, who was sitting on the sofa with his upper body naked, said with a guilty look on his face, "Mr. Geldof, I'm sorry. I joked with Giselle that day, and I took her phone to text you without her permission. Don't take it to heart." Giselle laughed and fell into his arms. Then she turned to me and said, "Coyle has apologized to you. Don't be so stern. I think we should just let this matter go." I sneered and thought, "I have prepared the divorce agreement, and you just tell me to forget it."