“What did you say?”

Gabriel stared at me, eyes wide with disbelief, as if he couldn’t believe his own ears.

Beside him, Sophia gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. Her wide, watery eyes were filled with shock.

The shared office space bustled with activity, but my voice, though not loud, landed like a thunderclap, silencing the room. Every curious eye instantly locked onto us.

Gabriel’s face mottled into furious crimson.

He thought I was making an unreasonable scene—deliberately humiliating him in public. His hand shot out, grabbing my wrist with a force that felt bone-crushing. He leaned in, teeth gritted, and hissed, “Brenda! Have you lost your mind?!”

It was the first time he’d ever said my full name so clearly.

Not on his deathbed, delirious and confused, but here, now—as I demanded a divorce and shattered his pride.

The irony was almost funny.

I wrenched my hand free. Around my wrist bloomed a vivid red ring.

“I’m not crazy. I’ve never been more clear-headed.”

My voice turned to ice as I met his gaze. “Gabriel, I’m done. We’re getting a divorce.”

“You…” He trembled with rage, chest heaving.

In his eyes, I was the undesirable element—the spoiled rich girl fortunate he’d stooped to marry. I was supposed to be grateful. Obedient. How dare I ask for a divorce?

“Brenda, maybe… maybe there’s been some misunderstanding?” Sophia chose that moment to step forward, slipping smoothly into her role as the sweet, misunderstood peacemaker. “You’ve just had a baby. You’re not yourself. Don’t say things you’ll regret. Gabriel does care for you. He’s just… he’s not good with words.”

“Oh? Is that so?” I turned to her, a mocking smile touching my lips. “Not good with words, so he forgets my name? Not good with words, so the night I was in labor, he ran off to take care of you and your ‘sudden illness’? Not good with words, so when there’s trouble, his first instinct is to defend *you*?”

With every sentence, Sophia’s face grew paler.

She hadn’t expected me to lay it all out like this.

“I… I didn’t mean to… I was really sick that night…” The tears came on cue. Her body swayed slightly, as if bearing the weight of some immense, unjust suffering.

The whispers around us swelled.

“Well, well… so that’s how it is.”

“Isn’t that Sophia? Michael the Section Chief’s widow? Always seemed so quiet.”

“Just goes to show. A widow, calling a married man to her side in the middle of the night? Shameless.”

Gabriel listened, his expression darkening further. He wasn’t hurt for me—he was furious his reputation was being tarnished.

He pulled Sophia behind him, shielding her, and glared at me. “Brenda! That’s enough! Must you make such a spectacle? Sophia is like a sister to me! Looking after her is the right thing to do! Your mind is filthy!”

“A sister?” I laughed, a sound so bitter it threatened to turn into tears. “The kind of sister you need to care for in bed in the middle of the night? Gabriel, don’t treat everyone else like fools. You want to look after her? Fine. That’s your business. But don’t drag me into it. This wife? Let someone else play the part.”

I turned to leave, ignoring his livid expression and Sophia’s bloodless face.

“Stop!” Gabriel roared after me. “The baby! You’re just going to abandon our son?!”

My steps faltered. I didn’t turn back.

The baby… Joseph.

In my past life, Gabriel taught him to refer to me as “that woman”—always with the same contempt.

When I lay gravely ill, he never once visited. After I died, I’m sure he even thought my passing brought a curse.

A child carrying Gabriel’s blood was rotten from the root. In this life, I wanted no part of it.

“I want only myself.” I dropped the words and walked out of the shared office without a backward glance, leaving behind the man and woman who had disgusted me for a lifetime.

Back at the apartment in the old block, the place was, as ever, a mess.

Gabriel’s mother was holding the newborn Joseph, muttering curses about me under her breath—the usual complaints: that I was too delicate, that I acted like an empress just because I’d given birth.

I ignored her and went straight to the bedroom. Taking out my small dowry chest, I began to pack.

My belongings were few: some old clothes, a few books, and a pair of gold bracelets left to me by my mother.

Seeing me pack, Gabriel’s mother froze for a moment, then planted her hands on her hips and started yelling. “What do you think you’re doing? Running back to your parents to play the grand lady now that you’ve had a child? I’m telling you, no way! Once you married into this family, you became one of us. You belong here, in life and in death!”

I paid her no mind, calmly continuing to pack.

Just then, Gabriel and Sophia returned.

The moment Gabriel stepped inside and saw my packed chest, his anger flared again.

“Brenda, are you serious?!”

“Have the divorce papers drawn up as soon as possible. I don’t want the house, the savings, anything. And I won’t fight for the child either.”

I looked at him calmly, as if discussing something that had nothing to do with me.

My composure only infuriated him further.

“On what grounds?!” he roared. “You—with that stain on your name—who else would even want you? How will you survive with a child after the divorce? You’re gambling with your future, and the child’s!”

He was always like this, habitually putting me down to prop up his own sense of superiority.

“That’s no longer your concern.” I picked up the chest, ready to leave.

“You’re not going anywhere!” He stepped forward, blocking my path.

“Gabriel, don’t be angry. Brenda must just be confused right now.”

Sophia was still playing her part, pretending to mediate while shooting me meaningful looks—as if to say, Just apologize and make up.

I found it all utterly ridiculous.

“Move.” The word came out cold.

“I won’t!” Gabriel stubbornly blocked the doorway. “If you don’t make yourself clear today, you’re not walking out that door!”

“Fine, then I’ll make myself clear.” I looked at him, then at Sophia behind him.

I spoke each word slowly, deliberately. “Gabriel, ask yourself honestly: did you marry me because you loved me? No. You married me because someone like me—with my family’s history—was beneath you. Marrying me fed your ego. You could enjoy the comforts my family brought while still feeling justified in belittling me, in humiliating me, so you could play the righteous, pure one.”

I went on, “You gave me the cold shoulder while showering your ‘dear sister’ with affection, having it both ways. You thought I was stupid, a fool you could control at will. But Gabriel, I’m not a fool. I was just… tired.”

My words cut like a knife, slicing through his gentle facade to expose the petty, insecure man beneath.

His face flushed red, then paled, then turned ashen. Finally, he stared at me, his eyes blazing with the fury of being seen.

“You—you’re talking nonsense!” he retorted, his voice fierce but hollow.

“Whether it’s nonsense or not, you know the truth.” Holding the chest, I walked past him, still rooted in place, and headed for the door.

This time, he didn’t stop me.

I opened the door. The sunlight outside stung my eyes.

Turning back, I took one last look at this home I’d lived in for two years—this cage.

Gabriel’s mother stood holding the child, still cursing. Gabriel remained frozen, utterly lost. And Sophia watched me with a complex gaze—a mix of envy and triumph.

I smiled faintly.

Goodbye, Gabriel.

Goodbye, my foolish, pathetic former life.