In the art studio, a place my husband had always forbidden me to enter, stood a sculpture of a half-naked goddess.

Two months after I gave birth, Camden suddenly became obsessed with sculpting. He would spend almost every day in the studio, sketches and papers piling up like mountains, ignoring our daughter's cries. I reached my breaking point and filed for divorce.

Everyone was shocked.

Marlon, his father, seemed perplexed. “Just because Camden spends all his time in the studio?”

I clarified, “He's sculpting a goddess, not just doodling.”

Ruth, his mother, snapped, “My son works hard to support the family. Sculpting is just a hobby to unwind. If he can't handle the baby's cries, why not hire a nanny? What's the big deal?”

I stayed silent but firm in my decision to leave him. Camden looked at me, disbelief and anger etched on his face.

“Myra, I haven't cheated, I haven't even looked at another woman, and I've done nothing to hurt you. Yes, I've been preoccupied with the studio and have neglected you, but is that really grounds for divorce?”

His eyes were red with frustration.

Everyone labeled me as overly controlling.

I let out a cold laugh, pointing toward the studio, and said without emotion, “If that sculpture is all you need, then have it.”

I threw the freshly printed divorce papers onto the table.

“Sign them.”

Camden was stunned, his eyes red as he stared at me.

“Myra!”

“What's wrong with you? Yes, I’ve been caught up in the studio, and I admit it was wrong to neglect you. Can't I make it right?”

Camden’s voice was strained and impatient.

“Do you really have to bring up divorce in front of everyone?”

I looked around at the gathered guests. Today was our 5th wedding anniversary. Camden had organized a family gathering to celebrate what was supposed to be a joyous occasion. Yet, his eyes hadn't rested on me all evening, not even during the toast, which he shared with his old friend instead of me.

There was no point in prolonging this charade.

“If you don’t want to make a scene in front of everyone, then just sign the papers quietly,” I replied coldly, choosing to say no more.

The room descended into an awkward silence.

Our friends and family had always seen us as a model couple, deeply in love. Camden’s face turned pale, his brows knitting in frustration.

“I’m begging you.”

Camden leaned in, his voice hoarse and pleading.

“Myra, let’s discuss this at home, don’t cause a scene here. Mom and Dad are worried.”

I coldly brushed his hand aside.

“Don’t touch me!”

The harshness of my response caused everyone’s expressions to change as they glared at me. Marlon slammed his glass onto the table, and Ruth's face clouded over.

Camden, unsteady, fell back into Avianna's arms.

“Myra, have you no heart?” Avianna burst out, stepping forward to shout at me.

“Have you forgotten how Camden massaged your stretch-marked belly every night during your pregnancy, no matter how late he came home? How he drove for three hours to get you fresh strawberries when you craved them? Now that the baby is here, you have an issue with him spending time in the studio to relax. Why are you so controlling?”

“Now that the baby is here, Camden just took a break from soothing the child. And you, as the mother, are here, so what if he rests for a bit? Over something so trivial, you want a divorce? Have you no shame!”

Avianna stood on her moral high ground, painting me as an ungrateful and vindictive woman. Her words and a slap were about to follow.

But before she touched me, I swiftly dodged.

I stared at her coldly, with a sarcastic laugh.

“How do you know about my husband’s nightly massages? Unless you two share everything…”

Avianna grew anxious. “Isn’t that common knowledge? Ask anyone here, who wouldn’t know?”

The guests nodded in agreement.

Marlon, his expression stern, advised me, “Myra, don’t act rashly. Camden took care of you diligently during your pregnancy; everyone saw it. He’s human, not a machine, and needs rest. This is a challenging time after childbirth; don’t ruin it.”

Ruth’s face brimmed with discontent, and she let out a skeptical snort:

“I knew you weren’t a good match. Now you’re asking for a divorce. Don’t tell me you’ve got someone else out there convincing you to leave our Camden?”

She rolled up her sleeves, ready for confrontation.

“I’ll make sure to chase that pretty boy away and keep you and the baby here.”

I let out a grim chuckle.

“The problem has never been with me.”

“No matter what you say, I’m leaving him today.”

Camden’s eyes were puffy and red. He took a deep breath and grasped my hand.

“Myra, tell me what’s really going on? You weren’t always like this, have you forgotten our wedding vows? To be together through sickness and health…”

His earnest expression only made me feel nauseated.

“Enough with the theatrics.”

“Move!”

I spat, shoving Camden away in disgust. He landed with a thud, skinning his elbow.

“Myra, I’ve tolerated you long enough!”

Avianna fumed, pointing at me with malice. “If you dare divorce Camden today, I’ll make sure you end up with nothing.”

“A woman as ungrateful as you, I’d rather see Camden as a widower than have him endure the gossip of a divorce!”

Avianna was enraged. She rushed over, pinning me to the ground, intent on beating me.

But I laughed at her.

“What do you care so much about our marriage for? Is it any of your business?”

“We grew up together; I’m like his sister!”

Avianna retorted fiercely.

“Is that a sister he shares a bedroom with?”

“You filthy liar! You’re just as rotten as you think others are.”

In her moment of pause, I punched her squarely.

My moves were precise and firm.

Avianna, despite boasting of her martial arts skills, was all talk and no action. She had no idea I was trained.

Camden panicked as he watched the scene unfold.

“Myra, stop it!”

“Don’t hurt Avianna…”

Seeing me pin Avianna by the throat, her breathing labored, her face slowly turning blue, Camden scrambled for a nearby porcelain vase and swung it at my head.

The room erupted in chaos, screams slicing through the air.

"Oh my God! There's so much blood!"

"Call an ambulance, quick!"

Warm liquid trickled down the side of my face, blurring my vision until all I could sense was a cacophony of noise.

Camden's trembling voice echoed in my ears:

"Honey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"I'm just worried you might lose control, and someone could get seriously hurt..."

"I've already called 911!"

As I slipped into unconsciousness, the last expression on my face must have been a bitter smile. Look at this, my wonderful husband—protecting his childhood friend by smashing a vase over my head.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in the hospital, my head throbbing with a pain that felt explosive.

"Myra, don't move."

"You just got more than a dozen stitches..."

I shut my eyes and let out a dry laugh.

"Have we signed the divorce papers yet?"

"Once I'm discharged, we'll head to the attorney's office and make it official."

Camden's sobs came to an abrupt halt.

"How can you still be thinking about divorce?"

He stared at me in disbelief, his tears falling onto the back of my hand.

"Myra, I love you so much. As soon as I saw you were in trouble, I immediately called for help. What's gotten into you?"

I couldn't help but laugh coldly.

"Love me? So you show your affection by smashing a vase over my head?"

If this is love, I'd rather you loved someone else.

Camden was taken aback by my retort and hurried to defend himself:

"Myra, it was just a knee-jerk reaction. You looked like you were in a rage, strangling Avianna, and it scared us all."

"You know our families have been friends for decades; Avianna grew up with me from the time we were toddlers."

"She was just trying to help us reconcile. How could you say such things?"

"Enough."

I cut Camden off coldly, "Explain all you want, I don't care anymore. Just two words: divorce."

Even my in-laws, who were eavesdropping at the door, exchanged bewildered glances. They hadn’t expected me to be so resolute, and they rushed inside.

"Myra, you're not usually so cold-hearted. Did Camden do something to upset you? Tell me, and I'll make him see sense," Marlon interjected, seemingly taking my side, but only superficially.

Before I could respond, he switched tactics.

"Or has someone else caught your eye?"

"Daughter-in-law, you just had a baby and are building your little family. Don't let some handsome stranger lead you to make a mistake you'll regret forever."

Ruth's expression also turned impatient as she joined in the effort to reconcile.

"Yes, young couples argue all the time, but they make up before bed. Don't be dramatic."

"A woman should have more grace."

"If everyone wanted a divorce over every little argument like you do, how would anyone stay married?"

Camden held my hand, more patient than before, asking quietly.

"Honey, what's really going on? Tell me, and we'll solve it together."

"Is your determination to divorce because you're suspecting something?"

His cautious gaze was filled with panic and tension, tears streaming down once more.

"No matter what happens, I won't abandon you. You don't need to worry about dragging me down."

I looked at him expressionlessly. Over the years, every time I saw him cry, I'd soften instantly. No matter what he asked, I’d agree.

He wanted a room solely for his art studio, and I complied.

He hung a sign on the studio door that read, "No entry for Myra or the dog."

I didn't mind.

But now, I've had enough.

"There's nothing more to say, Camden. I don't love you anymore."

Camden looked as if he'd been struck by lightning, his eyelashes trembling visibly.

"What did you say?"

"Myra, we've had a child together, how can you be so heartless now?"

The shock was too much for Camden, and his chest heaved with emotion.

Seeing the situation unfold, Marlon snorted impatiently.

"Myra, this is your choice."

"If you go through with this divorce, you'll walk away with nothing."

I ignored him and closed my eyes.

Seeing my indifferent attitude, they left in anger, cursing me as they supported Camden, who was nearly shattered by tears.

"Have some dignity, you have such great prospects, you can find a better wife. It's not worth it to cry over a woman like this, let's go!"

They couldn't understand why a seemingly perfect couple would suddenly be on the brink of divorce, irreconcilable.

My best friend Leila came to see me after hearing about my hospitalization.

"Myra, what on earth is going on with you?"

She had heard about my recent plans for divorce. My husband made headlines on social media for nearly injuring me with a vase, all to defend an old flame. I had become the talk of the town.

Leila took a long look at my injuries and sighed deeply.

"Weren't you and Camden famous for your strong marriage? How did it come to this?"

I was silent for a long time before speaking slowly.

"Have you ever seen the statue of the Half-Naked Goddess?"

Leila was taken aback, "That famous sculpture? The one without clothes, a world-class piece?"

"Yes."

Leila listened quietly as I continued.

"There's also one in Camden's studio."

Leila froze, then began to laugh.

"Impossible! It's definitely a fake..."

"Exactly!" I interrupted, "It's a fake."

"And—"

"It moves."

Leila was immediately enlightened: "You mean..."

She didn't finish her sentence, but her expression grew increasingly vivid.

Half a month passed swiftly.

After I was discharged, Camden changed into new pajamas, sprayed on some cologne, and moved closer to me.

"Myra, I know I've been neglecting you. After the baby, the doctor said we couldn't be intimate, so I stayed in the studio. I'm sorry. I'll change anything you don't like from now on."

His voice was deep and magnetic.

He wrapped his arms around me from behind.

We've been married long enough for me to recognize this as a sign of appeasement.

And I usually fall for it.

But thinking of that studio, where I'm never allowed, makes me nauseous.

"Myra..."

He gently embraced me from behind, planting a kiss on the back of my neck.