He tore my pajamas apart in a few quick motions and dragged my undressed body in front of the mirror.

"I'm disgusting, you say? You're the disgusting one!" He shoved me roughly before continuing, "Look at your chest—it's sagging to your navel. And that face of yours is covered in spots like a rotten orange. How can I desire you? I lose my appetite just looking at you. Don't you find yourself disgusting?"

As he spoke, he squeezed my chest.

"You'd better know your place. If you behave, I'll still let you be a rich wife. But if you divorce me, don't come crying later."

Mason slammed the door and left. I was still curled up on the floor, arms wrapped around my chest.

We'd been together for 21 years.

How could he say something so cruel to me?

Perhaps he had changed long ago, and I was the only one who clung to the memories, unwilling to accept the truth.

As my nails dug into my palms, the sharp pain brought clarity to my mind.

"Mason, did you really think I was someone you could treat however you wanted?"

My resolve to divorce only grew stronger.

It was my birthday the next day.

To my surprise, Mason got up early to cook.

Did he remember my birthday?

Yvie looked at me with disgust as I came out of the bedroom. She kept her head down and ate without saying a word.

Mason, playing the good guy, remarked, "Yvie, didn't we agree not to stay mad at Mom?"

Reluctantly, my daughter muttered, "Mom."

"She's not feeling well after her flight," Mason explained. "Come sit down. It's your favorite chicken caesar salad."

He raised his eyebrows at me triumphantly, only for me to ignore him.

I heard footsteps approaching before Summer walked in behind the housekeeper.

"Good morning, Mrs. Fleming," she greeted me. "I came to deliver a contract to Mr. Fleming."

After they shook hands, Yvie invited Summer to join us for breakfast.

Summer pretended to decline politely, but the next second, she sat down in my seat.

Yvie pushed my breakfast in front of her and even poured her a full glass of the orange juice I loved.

Summer started chatting warmly with Yvie.

It turned out that they were schoolmates.

"Yvie, you're so outgoing! I was worried you'd hate me like Mrs. Fleming does…" Summer murmured.

"My mom overthinks things because she's going through menopause. Don't take her too seriously," Yvie said.

The two of them were getting along like best friends.

I was such a fool, still hoping they would remember my birthday.

I didn't eat. I simply walked out the door.

I was going to see Tanner Hutt, my first love, who was also a top lawyer.

At the café, I told Tanner about my situation.

"Have you made up your mind?" he asked with a smile.

Even at this age, he still had that annoying look on his face.

We might not have broken up if he had just been a bit gentler back then.

I pulled out a black card and pushed it to him.

"Here's a million. Once it's done, I'll pay you another million. Keep it professional. I want you to go all in," I told him.

Tanner looked at the card with a smile. "Alright."

After we discussed the divorce procedures, he offered to drive me home.

I found out today that his wife had passed away from a heart attack. Left with no children, he had poured himself into work.

Now, he'd become Nork's top lawyer.

As Tanner's limited-edition Maserati cruised along the road, I remarked with a frown, "You were never flashy. Since when did you start liking luxury cars?"

Tanner raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you use to like them too?"

I was caught off guard by his words.

I was young back then. Like every other young lady, I liked cool cars and handsome men.

When we arrived, I tossed him 500 dollars.

He looked at me, puzzled. "What's this?"

"A tip," I said, tilting my chin up.

"Alright, my liege," he replied.

Tanner told me what I needed to prepare before the divorce.

Following his advice, I found out about Mason's bank accounts. Then, I hired a private investigator, who got the address of the woman he's keeping.

It was the house I lived in before I got married. We moved out after starting a family because it was too small, and bought the current villa.

Mason had actually placed her in that house.

Since neither of them was home, I went in, only to find that everything inside was just as it used to be.

Clearly, Summer was trying hard to play the perfect lady of the house.

Photos of them were hung on the walls.

A pair of orange plush toys sat on the nightstand.

A familiar herbal scent lingered in the air.

A bag of herbs was laid on the dining table.

As Mason has had a chronic cough that never improved, I had specially hired a traditional healer to prepare these herbs.

I only gave the prescription to my mother-in-law. And yet, it had ended up here.

Was the problem with me? Otherwise, why would everyone in my family betray me so easily?

Someone returned suddenly.

Summer soon walked in cheerfully, clinging to Mason's arm.

"I'm so happy! Mason, we're finally having a son!" she said.