I let out a sarcastic scoff and threw down the divorce papers I’d printed days ago.
“Sign it. Save the sob story for when I'm not around. I’m not interested.”
Alric froze. The moment his eyes landed on the papers, his face darkened—twice over.
“When did you even print this? Don’t tell me you had these ready the second Fina came back? You really couldn’t tolerate her for even a second?”
I glanced at the two of them who were still holding each other like nothing had happened.
I smiled bitterly. “No. It’s not me who couldn’t tolerate her. It’s you two who couldn’t tolerate me. Who am I to reject anyone when I was already being pushed out?”
I swept my gaze around the room, looking at every piece of furniture. “This house—everything in it is decorated to her taste. Why didn’t you just let her move in as the lady of the house?”
Smack!
The sound of Alric’s slap cracked through the room.
My face whipped to the side, stinging. His raised hand trembled in the air as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just done.
I saw him looked stunned, more at himself than at me. In the next second, he pulled me into his arms in a panic.
“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean it! I just—You said awful things, I lost my temper. You know I’d never hurt you on purpose.” He reached up, gently cupping my cheek, his voice soft, “Does it hurt?”
I held my swollen cheek and pushed him away firmly. “We're getting a divorce. That’s final.”
Then I turned and walked out the door.
Alric started to follow, but Seraphina quickly grabbed his arm. “Let her cool off. She’s just jealous right now. You chasing after her will only make things worse.”
Of course, Alric obeyed her.
I let out a quiet, bitter laugh. Of course he stayed. He truly didn’t understand, it seems.
When a woman finally calmed down, truly calmed down… it wasn’t forgiveness that came next. It was clarity.
And once clarity set in, my decision to leave only became more certain.
I wandered the streets for nearly half an hour before, I hailed a cab and returned home.
But I never made it inside.
Through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw it: the perfect picture of domestic bliss. Alric, Seraphina and my son were sitting at the candlelit dining table, laughing like a real family.
They looked like a magazine ad for the perfect life.
To be fair, Alric did seem like the ideal husband to outsiders.
Ever since I married him, I never had to work a day. I could shop from home, indulge when I pleased. My parents and little brother moved into a mansion. They drove luxury cars with his name on the papers.
But there’s a wise saying: "marrying well is like swallowing a needle—the pain is silent and sharp and only the one who swallows it knows the sting."
In front of my mother-in-law, I would always act in such meticulous manner to look obedient and polite. At home, I was constantly on my feet, caring for our sickly child, barely getting a moment’s rest.
Those luxury clothes and handbags Alric bought me? I never even had a chance to wear them.
Just then, my mom picked up a phone call in the middle of dinner. Her eyes shot toward the window and when she saw me, she bolted outside.
She slapped me. Hard. My cheek flared with pain.
“Are you out of your mind?” she screamed. “You’re really divorcing a man like Alric? He’s a saint! I swear to God I’ll beat some sense into you!”
“It’s just a coffee! Just a damn cup of coffee! You want to divorce him over that?”
“He’s the one who makes the money, supports this whole family, takes care of your father and me! How can you be so ungrateful?”
My father came out right behind her, red-faced and fuming.
“Even if he bought that woman a house, a coffee—what’s it got to do with you? If you can’t hold on to your man, that’s your failure!”
“You should be grateful he’s still staying with you! You’re lucky to have him!”
Then my seventeen-year-old brother sneered. “Honestly, sis, you’re kind of a frumpy housewife now. If I were Alric, I couldn’t stand you either.”
There I stood, in my apron, the one I wore every day while cooking, cleaning, mothering—and yet my own family, the people I gave everything for, turned on me without hesitation.
They called me a burden. A disappointment. A woman who couldn't keep her man.
My heart went still in my chest.
“Alric called me just now. He's worried about you, asking if you’d come home!” My mother raised her hand again and slapped me one more time.
“You go meet your husband and apologize to him right this instance! Or don’t bother calling me 'mother' ever again!”
My mother pinched the soft flesh at my waist so hard.
“If it weren’t for your husband, we wouldn’t be living like this! You ungrateful little brat! You’ve got no shame!”
Everyone in the family kept pressuring me to apologize to Alric, to beg for his forgiveness. But I stood there.
“I want a divorce. And no one’s going to talk me out of it,” I said with resolve.
My mother’s face turned black with rage. She raised her hand again, ready to hit me.
This time, I was ready. So, I stepped back and got out of her reach.
My younger brother Caelan frowned and crossed his arms. “And where do you think you're going to live after the divorce? This house is mine now—Mom and Dad already promised it as my future wedding home.”
My father chimed in, “You’ve only had a good life because of Alric. Once you leave him, where are you going to go? Planning to sleep on the streets?”
I laughed bitterly, taking two steps back. “Oh, don’t worry! I won’t be your problem.”
They just stood there, stunned, as I walked out of the house.
Behind me, my mom shouted, “Fine! Keep throwing your tantrum! Let’s see how long you last out there! A woman without her family is nothing but a weed in the wind!”
I’d barely made it down the block when my phone rang. It was Alric.
“Let me guess. Your mom kicked you out, didn’t she?” I could hear the smugness in his tone.
“Lyra, just come home. The second you left, our son spiked a fever. He needs you.” He sighed like he was the bigger person here.
“I know this whole divorce thing was just you acting out. I already had my assistant buy every drink on the Sparkbucks menu. Whatever you want, you can have them. Just stop this nonsense, alright?”
Hearing that Adam was sick broke my heart a little bit. But then I remembered the things he’d said to me—that I was the 'bad one', that Aunt Fina was better, that I was just a baby-making pig.
I stayed still and said coldy, “Isn’t there a world-renowned doctor in the house? You're the heir to the almighty Formoor Group, no less. You’re telling me he’d let his beloved child die of a fever?”
Then I hung up.
Of course Alric would made another call instantly. He knew I had no one backing me. He was counting on that.
Tears slipped down before I could even realize.
Suddenly, a memory surfaced.
Years ago, when Alric and I had just met, my mom had beaten me and thrown me out of the house because Caelan failed his first placement exam. She said it was my fault for not tutoring him properly.
Ever since he was born, I’d been invisible in that house. Only useful when they needed someone to blame or clean up the mess.
It was in the middle of winter. I passed out from cold and hunger at Alric’s doorstep.
He brought me inside and took care of me. He confessed his feelings during those days, told me he’d give me the warm, loving home I never had.
For years, he did love me. Spoiled me, even. He stood up to his own parents and married me against their wishes. He gave my parents a huge sum of money.
After that, my parents’ attitude changed overnight. They treated me like a golden goose, always smiling at me, always complementing me.
Over time, I let myself believe they truly cared. I forgot what they used to be like.
Until now...
Now I remembered that some things remained fake no matter how sweet they changed the taste.
So, I called a lawyer. Jordan, my best friend with that profession to be exact.
“I’m filing for divorce.”
She paused for just a second—but didn’t ask a single question. She just said that she'd got my back. She drove over and picked me up herself, bringing me to her apartment.
The moment I saw her, my eyes welled up. I tried to hold it back, but she just pulled me into a hug.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Jordan whispered. “I already know. I’ve seen it all.”
Then, the doorbell rang. It was Alric.
He’d found me and clearly hadn’t taken being hung up on very well. I could tell he was rattled.
He took one look at my red, puffy eyes and immediately moved to approach me.
But before he could take a step, Jordan struck his face hard. “You piece of shit.”
Alric was taken aback for a bit. He gritted his teeth and tried reach me.
Jordan grabbed his arm and raised her hand again but Alric caught her wrist mid.
"I’ve tolerated you for my wife’s sake,” he growled. “Don’t push it.”
Slap!
Jordan slapped Alric, now with the back of her hand. Before Alric could recover, she landed another slap with her other hand.
Alric snapped. He shoved her aside, then stormed up to me and grabbed my wrist.
“I’ve had enough of this, Lyra,” he growled. “Come home with me. Right now! Or I’ll take everything back from your parents.”
Once upon a time, I might’ve panicked at those words—begged for his forgiveness just to keep the illusion of family intact.
But not anymore. I pulled my hand out of his grip. “Go ahead. Do whatever you want.”
Jordan immediately stepped between us, holding out her lawyer's ID.
“Mr. Alric Fenmoor, you don’t have the right to take her anywhere. I’m her divorce attorney now. This case is already underway.”
Alric froze, blinking in disbelief.
“You hired a divorce lawyer? No… that can’t be. There hasn’t been a court summons. You’re bluffing—right?”
He rubbed his temples and gave me a tired look. “Lyra, you’re not a child. Don’t you get it? All this drama is just destroying whatever we still have left.”
I stared at him. “Do we even have anything left?”
Before Alric could respond, his phone rang. He picked it up—and I could hear his assistant practically screaming on the other end.
“Mr. Fenmoor! We’ve got a problem. The divorce summons was delivered to the office—now the entire company knows you’re getting divorced!”
Alric went completely still. “What…?”