Every year, my wife, Jessica Lowe, prepares a huge surprise for me on our wedding anniversary. On the night of our tenth anniversary, she enters the banquet hall with a scantily-dressed male model. She demands that I take off my suit and put it on him instead.

I refuse and take out a divorce agreement.

In retaliation, Jessica slaps a thick stack of photos onto the table.

The photos show me at my most humiliated, shameful, and pathetic moments.

She sneers, "Michael Jefferson, you talk about divorce all the time. But each time, you always end up crawling back to me with your tail between your legs, begging me to take you back.

"Tell me, what will your comatose mother think if these pictures of you get out? Will she finally wake up in the hospital from shame and embarrassment?"

However, Jessica doesn't know that my mother, Eleanor Brown, passed away months ago.

The moment Jessica Lowe finished speaking, the crowd erupted into laughter.

Some people even started a bet guessing how long it would take for me to give in and reconcile with her. Even the male model Jessica brought with her joined in the wager.

He deliberately flashed a ring in front of me and said in a mocking tone, "I don't have any money, but I'll bet 500 dollars that he won't get a divorce."

I stared at the ring on his finger and suddenly laughed out loud. She had taken our wedding ring and put it on his finger just to humiliate me.

I cursed myself inwardly for being such a loser. After ten years of being hurt repeatedly, only now did I finally find the courage to leave Jessica.

"I've signed the divorce agreement. You just need to add your signature."

Over the years, I had asked for a divorce as many as 999 times. Yet this was the first time I had brought the actual paperwork.

I removed the wedding ring on my finger and took hers from the male model. Setting them on the divorce agreement, I pushed them toward her.

Jessica's face darkened, and she stared at me for a few seconds. Perhaps, she was stunned with disbelief.

To her, I was nothing more than a dog who only knew how to endure everything she did in silence. But now, I was suddenly willing to give her freedom and let her go.

Jessica curled her lips into a mocking smile. She took the divorce agreement and tore it into pieces right in front of me.

"Aren't you tired of playing these stupid tricks? Don't use divorce to threaten me. I've already grown sick of this marriage and playing house with you."

I lowered my gaze in silence and reached into my bag to pull out another identical copy of the divorce agreement. "Ms. Lowe, since you're tired of me, that's all the more reason for you to sign the papers."

Her temper flared instantly. She shoved me hard and sent me crashing to the floor. "Michael Jefferson, without me, who would your family leech off for money to pay for your mother's medical bills?"

I listened to her in silence. Then, I stood up to leave.

Jessica wasn't about to let me go so easily. She slapped me across the face and said coldly, "See what happens if you really walk away."

I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth. I couldn't be bothered to argue. At that moment, I just wanted to leave this place.

Infuriated by my indifference, Jessica decided to throw the handle after the hatchet.

She took the divorce agreement in my hand and signed her name carelessly across the signature line. Next, she instructed her assistant, "Stop paying for Mrs. Jefferson Senior's medical bills so that Mr. Jefferson understands what real cruelty looks like."

Jessica turned to me. "The payment for your mother's bills can last for another week at most. During that time, think carefully and decide whether you will crawl back to me on your knees and beg for my forgiveness."

She laughed smugly, as if she were certain that I would never gamble with my mother's life.

But Jessica…

A few months ago, the nurses had given me notice after notice about Mom's critical condition. I called Jessica again and again, begging her to visit my mother one last time.

Yet she said, "The old woman is dying? What new lie did you cook up this time? There's no need to curse your own mother even if you want me to come home."

Mom passed away that very night. The only person in this world who had truly loved me was gone.

Jessica couldn't threaten me anymore.

Seeing the confident look in her eyes, I merely said calmly, "Do whatever you please. Let's meet at the courthouse after the cooling-off period."

I picked up the suitcase that I had packed long ago and walked out as everyone watched. I didn't spare Jessica another glance.

I had barely left when my phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, I saw that it was Dad. I hesitated for a long while before finally answering the call.

His furious roar exploded like a firecracker over the phone. "Michael, you must be tired of living! How dare you ask Ms. Lowe for a divorce? Get back here right now."

I didn't want to go back. My father, Theodore Jefferson, had gotten involved in an affair with the neighbor, Pauline White. She was now his mistress, and my house had become their home. I had no home left.

However, Mom's ashes were still there. If I was going to leave, I needed to take her with me.

The moment I stepped through the front door, a hand almost hit me as it swung toward my face. I had already been slapped once by Jessica today, and I had no intention of enduring a second slap.

I caught his wrist and shoved him away. Dad had too much to drink and could barely stand straight.

He clearly hadn't expected me to fight back. He widened his bloodshot eyes and cursed, "You ingrate! Are you trying to cut off my livelihood? How am I supposed to gamble without money? Do you want me dead? You ungrateful bastard!"

Dad had hidden the truth about Mom's death so Lowe Group would keep sending him money. But now that I had filed for divorce, the money was gone for good.

Pauline couldn't help but chime in, "Michael, this is your fault. With Ms. Lowe's status, dozens of people dream of marrying her. Why can't you learn to appreciate what you have?"

I replied calmly, "I won't change my decision. There's no point in persuading me. I'm only here to take a few things today, and I won't be coming back for good. Don't bother informing me if you two get married in the future."

With that, I returned to my room.

Dad lost his temper. "You ungrateful brat! What in this house do you think you have the right to take? Or… did you come back for your mother?"

The urn I kept by my bedside was gone. Hearing Dad's words, my heart clenched with fear. Sure enough, I turned around and saw Mom's urn in his hand.

My expression turned cold as I strode over to him. "Give it to me. You have no right to touch—"

Suddenly, a loud crash sounded. Dad had smashed the urn onto the floor, sending gray ashes scattering everywhere.

"I have no right? How dare you say that about your own father?" he shouted.

At that moment, the last thread of my sanity finally snapped. I lunged at him like a madman and pushed him to the ground forcefully. "That was your wife! The woman you were married to for decades! Are you even human?"

My words ignited his fury. He grabbed a beer bottle from the table and brought it down on my forehead with a loud smash. Blood streamed down my face and stained my white shirt crimson.

Pauline let out a shriek of terror. "Theodore, stop! You'll kill him!"

I lifted my head as the blood ran into my eyes and stared at Dad, who looked equally stunned.

Dad fixed his gaze on me for a few seconds, but there was no guilt or mercy in his eyes. Instead, he looked eerily delighted. He took out his phone and took several close-up shots of my bleeding face. After that, he dialed a number hurriedly.

His voice instantly softened into a tone of flattery once the call connected. "Ms. Lowe, I heard my son upset you again? Don't worry, I taught him a good lesson! Look at the photos I sent you. I didn't hold back at all. Please, be magnanimous and forgive him this once.

"After all, you two have been together since your school days, and you've been married for a decade now. How can you get divorced out of nowhere? Besides, it was my poor judgment in forcing him to break up with you back then. But speaking of the car accident, it was my son who—"

Jessica interrupted coldly from the other end of the call, "What does my accident have to do with him? Did he even contribute anything?"

Taken aback, Dad hurried to explain himself, "Yes, of course. It's because you've been blessed by good luck. But he really did—"

Jessica sounded like she was completely out of patience. "Do you want money?"

At this, Dad's eyes lit up. "Yes, yes! The payments for the medical bills can't stop."

Before he could finish, a clear male voice came through the phone. "Jessica, Michael is just being immature. We shouldn't drag Mrs. Jefferson Senior into this, right?"

"You're just too compassionate." Jessica let out a laugh and said to Dad before hanging up, "If you want me to keep paying, then make Michael crawl on his knees like a dog and beg me for forgiveness."

Dad stared at his silent phone in anger and cursed furiously, "I beat you up so badly, and yet she still doesn't care? Saving her from the car accident back then was a complete waste of time!

"I don't care what you do, but you must get money out of her! I'm drowning in debt, and I need that money to turn things around. If you can't get it, I'll kill you myself!"

My expression was numb and indifferent.

I collected what little ashes I could salvage from the floor and placed them back inside the urn. Then, I walked out with it in silence.

Before Mom had fallen ill, I once believed I had a happy life.

I was in a relationship with Jessica back in college. She kept her wealthy background a secret, so I thought she was just an ordinary woman. We genuinely loved each other and planned a future that belonged only to us.

Unfortunately, Mom found out about Dad's affair with Pauline. In a rage, she suffered a cerebral hemorrhage and fell into a coma. She required exorbitant medical bills to keep her alive.

Spouses were the first in line to sign the surgical consent form.

Dad refused to pay a single cent and forced me to break up with Jessica. He looked down on her for being poor and said that she couldn't be of any help financially. He demanded that I find a rich older woman instead. If I couldn't bring in the money, he was going to sign the treatment refusal form.

I caved in.

On my birthday, I smashed the birthday cake that Jessica personally made for me. To make her give up on me, I mocked her with the cruelest words I had ever said in my life before breaking up with her. Then, I started going on blind dates.

Most of the wealthy older women were eccentric or had disturbing fetishes.

Regrettably, Jessica witnessed the most humiliating moment of my life. Sneering, she grabbed my wrist and dragged me to a luxury car. "Michael, don't you just need money? I have plenty of it!"

She drove the car like a madwoman. Consequently, we got into an accident because she failed to brake in time. I carried her on my back for dozens of miles down the mountain roads before losing consciousness at the entrance of the hospital.

When I woke up, Dad had already learned that Jessica was actually a rich heiress. He made an excuse and lured her out for a meeting. Then, he drugged both of us and staged a scandal. The media exposed the whole incident to the public, nearly ruining Jessica's reputation.

In the end, she swallowed her humiliation and married me. It was only natural that she had hated me all these years. After all, I had abandoned her for money and forced her into this disgrace.

I had stopped blaming her long ago and put everything behind me.

Not long after, one of Jessica's friends sent me a photo of Jessica with a young man standing behind her. When he smiled, he looked strikingly like a younger version of me.

Jessica treated him differently from other men.

She had countless lovers over the years. Every anniversary, she would bring her lovers over and parade them in front of me. However, those men were merely tools she used to spite me.

In contrast, the young man was the only person she didn't treat with disdain but rather as an equal. They took photos like a couple, ate meals together, and went out to the movies…

Their interactions were much like ours back then when we were college students. Our relationship used to be simple, sweet, and ordinary.

I replied bluntly, "Congratulations."

If my departure meant Jessica could finally find her own happiness, then the divorce was the best outcome for both of us.