I've just received a text from my CEO wife, Cara Lavigne. Apparently, she's gone on another last-minute business trip again, so she can't accompany me to the funeral home.

But soon, I see Cara's silhouette being captured in a photo, where she celebrates her assistant, Warren Stone's birthday with him in a work-related post he has just uploaded.

The caption reads, "Thank you for the amazing cake, boss! I feel so happy to be able to celebrate my birthday!"

I just smile calmly before leaving a like and a comment. "Happy birthday."

My colleagues, on the other hand, start betting pools like mad to see what kind of tricks I'm going to pull this time in order to kick up a ruckus.

Cara calls me immediately just to scold me.

"Warren is just celebrating his birthday, so what's with the comment? He's a very sensitive person, you know! How is he going to survive in this company now that you've passive-aggressively humiliated him in that public post?

"It's been barely two years since Warren joined this company, not to mention he doesn't have any friends! What's wrong with me celebrating his birthday with him, huh? People like you, who are born with silver spoons in their mouths, will never understand Warren's plight!

"I want you to delete your comment right now! We'll talk more about this once I'm home! Your dad is already dead anyway, so you can just wait for a few more days before claiming his body!"

I can only clench my fists tightly as I listen to Cara's heartless and nonchalant words.

"No need for that."

Once she is back, the divorce procedures will be done.

As soon as Cara Lavigne finished speaking, she angrily gritted her teeth and hung up.

I stopped walking. Slowly, I put away my phone and looked toward the entrance of the funeral home.

After straightening the white flower in my chest pocket that had become crooked, I lifted my foot and walked inside.

The next second, my phone vibrated with a social media update notification—Warren had just posted something.

It was a long post saying he meant nothing by his earlier post and that he was only sharing the joy of having someone celebrate his birthday with him. He also apologized to me.

And just like the previous post, he had specifically tagged me at the end.

Less than a minute after it was posted, it already had many likes and comments.

It was such an elementary provocation, yet Cara couldn't see through it.

She was usually so meticulous and thoughtful. How could she not realize Warren's intentions?

It was more likely that she simply didn't want to expose him.

"Why would he need to apologize just for sharing a little about his life? Is he really that sensitive?"

"Exactly. He just had someone celebrate his birthday with him. I feel so bad for Warren that he has to put up with such a passive-aggressive remark. I've never seen someone so petty."

The comment section was filled with sarcastic remarks defending Warren and criticizing me. Most of these coworkers had been hired by Warren himself, so it was only natural that they spoke up for him.

If Cara hadn't made an exception and overstepped her authority to support him, how could he have been put in charge of recruitment, which led to him roping in a group of followers for himself?

Those who had spoken up for me had all been dismissed.

Not long afterward, Cara replied beneath the post, "The company is everyone's home. I encourage everyone to treat the company like their home. There's no need to take baseless and malicious speculations to heart."

She didn't name anyone directly, but everyone in the comments knew who she was referring to. Warren even pinned her comment to the top.

I couldn't be bothered to keep reading.

After I took out my identification documents and handed them to the staff for verification, they led me inside.

In the storage room, my father's face was ashen and bloodless as he lay motionless in the freezer. Just the day before yesterday, he had said he would take a bus to come over and stay with me for a few days, but now he was lying here, cold and unmoving.

Tears instantly blurred my vision.

The moment I received the terrible news, I had immediately called Cara, who told me that she needed to go on an urgent business trip.

She had said, "The police won't release the body until they're done handling the accident. Let's wait until I get back. Don't worry."

With that, she had left without hesitation despite my objections. It wasn't until five hours later, when I saw Warren's status update, that I realized the truth.

Business trip, my foot. It had clearly been an excuse to celebrate Warren's birthday.

"The weather is extremely hot. Since the remains are incomplete, preservation will be difficult. We recommend cremation as soon as possible."

A staff member handed me a release form and offered the suggestion.

After I signed the paperwork and gave my consent, they immediately arranged for the cremation.

After my parents divorced, Dad never remarried. My grandparents were very old, so I didn't want to upset them with such devastating news.

While waiting, I suddenly received a screenshot that a coworker had forwarded. Warren had posted on Instagram again, showing off two three-day tickets to a theme park.

I tapped into the search function and saw that his page was completely blank. He had blocked me.

A new message popped up on my screen, and it read, "Julian, did you know Ms. Lavigne is away with Warren on a trip?"

My grip on the phone tightened.

The sender wasn't concerned about me at all. They were simply provoking me on Warren's behalf.

I had long since grown used to such taunts. All it took was a single remark from Warren, and someone would step forward to test the waters for him.

I put away my phone and took the urn with Dad's ashes in it. Then, I went to the courthouse to submit the divorce paperwork.

Cara had signed the divorce agreement last month. When I handed it to her, she hadn't hesitated at all. With a few swift strokes, she signed her name.

Watching her hurriedly scrawl it on top of the line, I couldn't help but remind her, "Aren't you going to take a look at its contents first before signing?"

She had set down her pen, handed the agreement back to me, and replied with a hint of impatience. "No need. I trust you."

Then again, she used to be an extremely meticulous person. No matter how thoroughly I prepared something, she would personally review it again.

Warren, however, was the exception. She never verified any of the documents he submitted.

I had expressed my dissatisfaction before, but she had answered in a tone that left no room for argument. "These documents are complicated. It's better if I double-check them myself to avoid mistakes."

"What about Warren?" I had asked.

She had laughed lightly and replied, "He's my assistant. Naturally, I trust his work."

For a while, I thought she had changed. It wasn't until I saw her skillfully prepare three project plans for Warren that I understood—she didn't actually trust me.

She simply had something she deemed more important at that time than reviewing the agreement.

Since the divorce application had been submitted a month ago, the waiting period had already been fulfilled.

After verifying the documents, the staff member handed me a form. "Where's the wife? The divorce won't take effect until she signs it."

After thinking for a moment, I pulled up Cara's flight information and explained, "She's taken her new lover on a vacation."

The staff member froze for a second, and a trace of sympathy appeared in her eyes. "We have regulations. Even if the spouse can't be present, we still need to confirm their intention to divorce by phone."

I nodded and called Cara.

After three calls, she finally answered at the very last second.

She blared, "Julian, how do you still have the nerve to call me? If you don't delete those comments, apologize to Warren, and stop causing trouble, then forget about claiming your father's body at the funeral home!"

This was her usual tactic whenever she was angry. Whenever I didn't cooperate as she wished, she resorted to threatening me.

Most of the time, it was because of Warren. As soon as he was unhappy, she automatically assumed I had done something to upset him. Without even asking for an explanation, she would demand that I apologize.

There had been one time when I fractured a bone and needed surgery. The doctor had said a family member had to sign the consent form. She had told me that if I didn't apologize, they could just amputate the limb and teach me a lesson.

Before I could even speak, the call was disconnected.

When I tried calling again, her phone was already powered off.

I gestured toward the phone. "That should be enough to confirm her intention to divorce, right?"

The staff member nodded, stamped the paperwork, archived it, and proceeded with the formalities.

I sat holding the urn for 20 minutes. Many people looked at me with sympathy, and I tightened my arms around the urn.

The next second, Cara unexpectedly called me on her own. "You're not at the office. Where are you?"

My gaze instinctively shifted toward the divorce counter.

Seeing that I remained silent, she didn't press the question. Clearly, she didn't truly care where I was.

She continued speaking on her own. "Go to Warren's place and feed his goldfish. While you're there, clean up the apartment for him."

Warren's hesitant voice came through the receiver before I could speak.

"Maybe we shouldn't trouble Julian. He's usually pretty busy. I can just hire a cleaning service to come over."

Cara was absolutely unconcerned.

She went on, "If he were really busy, he'd be at the office right now instead of scrolling through posts during work hours and leaving random comments just because he thinks he's contributed so much! He hasn't even apologized, and now he's throwing a tantrum because I scolded him."

I couldn't help clenching my fists.

It wasn't her efforts alone that built the company into the successful business it was today. I had contributed just as much, if not more, than she had.

Over the years, among all the projects we had, the ones that truly generated profits and turned things around had all been projects I secured.

Not only was she ungrateful, but she had also secretly stripped away my authority behind my back.

I had turned a blind eye to it because we were family. Yet, she showed no restraint whatsoever.

Not only had she promoted Warren over some even more qualified people, but she had also given him management authority beyond his rank and even personally defended him against criticism.

There was one time when Warren forgot to prepare a proposal, which led the client to become so furious that they nearly canceled the partnership. To protect Warren, Cara had shamelessly pinned the blame on me and forced me to take full responsibility.

"Julian, do you still not realize your mistake?" Cara asked coldly.

I nodded and said, "You're right. I was terribly wrong."

After ten years of marriage, I had failed to see her true colors sooner. I had wasted ten years draining myself emotionally. That indeed was a terrible mistake on my part.

Hearing my answer, Cara's tone softened somewhat. "Then hurry up and make up for it. After you feed the goldfish, clean the apartment. Make sure you do it by hand."

My clenched fist cracked audibly.

In a cold voice, I said, "I'm not going."

"What?" Cara's voice suddenly rose.

I didn't give her a chance to lose her temper, as I hung up immediately.

At the same time, a staff member handed me a receipt. "The paperwork is complete. There will be a three-day review period."

I nodded and accepted it.

Three days were more than enough time to take care of any loose ends. By then, Cara would probably have returned as well.

…

On the first day after returning, I held a simple funeral for Dad and posted an obituary on my social media.

I wrote, "I have lost another person who truly loved me."

After it was posted, quite a few people in the comments questioned it.

"Isn't this just another one of his tricks to get Ms. Lavigne's attention? That's really shameless. He's even using his own father's death to compete for affection."

Although they were technically employees under my management, most of them were close to Warren, and very few trusted me.

Back when Cara and I got married, Dad had opposed it. But because I insisted on marrying her, he eventually relented and agreed to the marriage.

During our ten years of marriage, Cara had never let go of that resentment. Not once had she accompanied me to have a meal with Dad. Even after receiving the customary monetary gift he gave her after we got married, she had never called him "Dad" out of appreciation.

I had tried explaining it to her many times, but she never listened.

It wasn't until I secretly overheard a conversation between her and Warren that I understood why she never warmed up to my dad. The reason she refused to acknowledge him wasn't because of any past disagreement.

She looked down on him. In her eyes, someone from such humble roots wasn't worthy of being her father-in-law.

But during video calls, she happily called Warren's father "Dad", and he was a construction worker.

Dad worked the same kind of labor-intensive job as he did. However, Cara treated him as if he were worthless and repulsive.

Even the room that should have been reserved for Dad had been converted into a storage room because she would rather fill it with clutter than let him stay there. As a result, every time he came to visit me, he had to stay in a motel.

Dad was the father-in-law to a CEO with a net worth in the millions. But when he came to visit his son and his daughter-in-law, he had to stay in cheap motels that only cost a few dozen dollars a night.

If I told people that, they probably wouldn't believe it.

Suddenly, a group of people arrived at the door. "Condolences for your father's passing."

They were relatives from my father's side of the family. There were several uncles, aunts, and cousins.

I nodded and poured them drinks.

"How come Cara isn't here for your dad's funeral?"

One of my aunts, Betty Fisher, was dressed in a bright, fashionable outfit and looked around curiously. When she didn't see Cara anywhere, she asked about it.

The others hadn't even glanced at Dad's memorial.