Ever since my wife had that oversized custom sofa delivered, she'd been sleeping in the living room every night.

Whenever I tried to bring her back to the bedroom, she brushed me off with the same excuse—she was tired.

Sometimes, she even locked the bedroom door from the outside. I would hear muffled, muffled sounds coming from the living room late into the night. The door wouldn't open again until the next morning.

I couldn't take it anymore.

The day she gave birth, she had just been wheeled out of the delivery room, still lying on the hospital bed, too weak to even sit up. I refused to hold the baby. Instead, I told her I wanted a divorce.

Her eyes turned red as she stared at me. "Just because I've been sleeping on the couch every night, you're divorcing me, right after I give birth to our child?"

I didn't hesitate.

"Yeah."

At my resolute answer, Victoria Parker broke down on the hospital bed, sobbing so hard she could barely breathe.

Both families were jolted out of their joy at welcoming a newborn.

Her assistant, Justin Berkley, suddenly stepped forward and shouted, "Matt! Do you even have a heart? Do you have any idea how much Victoria has sacrificed for you and the family? Are you blind?

"Are you seriously making a scene just because she bought a sofa and slept in the living room instead of with you?"

Hearing this baseless explanation, Victoria's father grew even angrier. "So that's it? She's pregnant, she doesn't feel up to those things, and you want a divorce? Do you even deserve to be called a man?"

Everyone glared at me, their fury burning as if they wanted to set me on fire.

Seeing the situation spiral, my father quickly stepped in to smooth things over.

"Please, don't be upset. Matt's probably been waiting outside the delivery room too long—he's talking nonsense. We've just welcomed a healthy grandson. This is a joyous occasion—he doesn't mean it."

My mother hurried over as well, pulling out tissues to wipe Victoria's tears.

"Victoria, don't take it to heart. Matt's just lost his head for a moment. You've just given birth—your body is weak. You mustn't cry like this. Focus on your recovery first. That's what matters."

The nurses and even the patients in neighboring beds stared in stunned silence.

But my tone didn't soften in the slightest.

"Dad, I'm not confused. I mean every word. This marriage has to end."

I took out the divorce papers and handed them to Victoria, my voice cold.

"Sign it."

Seeing how firm I was, Victoria's father could no longer hold back. He exploded in anger.

"Matt, you heartless bastard! Do you know how hard it was for Victoria to carry your child for nine months? She just went through hell in that delivery room to give you a baby, and now you turn around and ask for a divorce? How can you face her? How can you face us?"

My father's face turned pale with rage at my stubbornness. He raised his hand to strike me, but my mother grabbed him tightly and held him back.

Breathing heavily, he glared at me.

"Do you have to tear this family apart before you're satisfied? Whatever the problem is, can't you talk it out? Why bring up divorce now, of all times?"

"There's nothing to talk about."

I looked at Victoria on the bed. Her sobs had quieted, though her shoulders still trembled.

In a hoarse voice thick with tears, she asked, "Matt… tell me why."

"There is no why," I replied coldly. "It's over."

With that, I couldn't be bothered to stay any longer. I turned and walked toward the door.

Justin suddenly grabbed my arm.

"You're not going anywhere! Victoria is at her weakest right now. How can you just leave like this?"

I pried his hand off.

"You're just an assistant. What I do is none of your business."

He refused to back down, grabbing my collar and speaking with righteous anger.

"Fine, I'm just her assistant. But what you're doing—anyone with a shred of conscience can't stand it! What kind of man files for divorce right after his wife gives birth? Matt, forget being a man—you're not even worthy of being called human."

I shook him off, but my fist lashed out before I could stop it.

With a dull thud, Justin staggered back and fell to the floor, clutching his cheek in shock.

Victoria struggled to sit up on the bed, the IV line swaying violently as she pulled at it.

"If you have a problem, take it out on me! Why drag an innocent person into this?"

Seeing that I had actually struck someone, Victoria's father flew into an even greater rage.

"I must have been blind to let you marry Victoria!"

After Victoria's mother helped Justin to his feet, he spoke with a wounded expression, "Mr. and Mrs. Parker, please don't blame Matt. This is my fault. I shouldn't have spoken out of turn at a time like this and angered him. He must be upset; that's why he reacted this way. Victoria has just given birth—please don't let things get worse because of me."

Watching him like this, Victoria felt even more distressed. She tried to comfort him.

"Justin, this isn't your fault. It's Matt, he…"

Her voice broke before she could finish. It took her a long moment to steady herself.

"Don't take it to heart. He's probably just been in a bad mood lately."

After calming Justin, she turned to me, her gaze carrying a hint of pleading.

"Matt… we have a child now. He's so adorable. Why do you insist on getting a divorce?"

Victoria's father could no longer hold back. He stepped forward, glaring at me.

"Matt, are you really set on this divorce? I think you've got some other woman! Otherwise, how could you be this heartless—bringing up divorce right after Victoria gave birth?"

Justin suddenly realized something and shouted, "No wonder! And here Victoria was still speaking up for you! Even if you do have someone else, why bring up divorce today, of all days? How could you be so cruel?!"

Tears welled in Victoria's eyes as she looked at me.

"Honey, you don't really have someone else, do you?"

Listening to Justin repeatedly call her "Victoria," I remained expressionless.

"Whether there's someone else or not doesn't matter. What matters is that Victoria and I must divorce."

My attitude completely infuriated Victoria's father. He pointed at the door and roared, "Fine! You heartless monster! We don't welcome you here! And you two—take him and leave!

"You want a divorce, is that it? Then just wait. In five days, we'll meet in court. I'll make sure you, you ungrateful bastard, lose everything—your reputation included!"

My parents tried to say something more, but one look from Victoria's parents forced them into silence.

The moment we stepped out of the hospital room, my father grabbed my arm, his face full of confusion.

"Matt, what's wrong with you? You and Victoria used to be so close. Why are you suddenly asking for a divorce—at a time like this?"

He sighed, lost in memory.

"I still remember when you first got together. You followed her around every day, your whole world revolving around her. There was one time she caught a cold—you ran across half the city in the middle of the night just to buy the porridge she wanted. When you came back, you were soaked through, but you just stood there grinning, saying you'd found it. Things were so good back then… how did it turn into this?"

My father's words made tears slip down my face before I realized it.

I wiped them away and said in a low voice, "Dad… that's all in the past now."

With that, I shook off his hand and headed straight for the elevator.

Downstairs, my senior, Todd Gibbon, was already waiting by the car. Once I got in, he glanced at my grim expression and teased, "Not going to do a paternity test? There's still a fifty percent chance the kid is yours."

I let out a bitter smile. "Cut it out. I'll need your help in court five days from now."

I put on my headphones, took out the recording, and played it again—laughing at myself as I listened.

I didn't want to trouble Todd, so I had him drop me off at a hotel to check in. I had no idea how long I lay there before I finally drifted into a hazy sleep sometime before dawn.

The next day, around noon, a barrage of urgent knocking jolted me awake.

The moment I opened the door, a crowd surged in.

"Matt, why did you file for divorce right after your wife gave birth?"

"There are rumors that you couldn't stay faithful during the marriage and have a mistress. Is that true?"

"Your wife, Victoria, just gave birth to your child, yet you're being so heartless. Do you feel any guilt toward her?"

Camera flashes exploded in front of my eyes. Recording devices and microphones were shoved inches from my face. They held up their phones, livestreaming, filming—each one of them filled with righteous anger, as if they hated me.

The commotion quickly drew even more onlookers. Once they learned what had happened, the crowd's gaze toward me turned openly disgusted.

A female reporter forced her way to the front, her tone sharp as she demanded, "Matt, sources say your wife was already sleeping separately from you during her pregnancy. Does that mean your marriage had long been fractured? And choosing to file for divorce on the very day she gave birth—was this premeditated?"

Another male reporter followed up immediately, "A nurse has revealed that not only did you refuse to hold your child in the delivery room, but you also pressured your wife to sign divorce papers in front of both families. How do you explain that?"

Only then did I realize that everything I had done yesterday had been recorded by a nurse and posted online. Overnight, it had ignited a storm of condemnation. In just a few hours, I had become a villain despised across the internet.

Facing countless cameras, I spoke calmly, "I have nothing to explain."

My answer instantly sparked outrage.

"Damn—if I hadn't seen it myself, I wouldn't believe a man like this exists, asking for divorce on the day his wife gives birth."

"What's there to guess? He must have another woman. A cheating scumbag and a mistress—perfect match."

"Divorce? I feel sorry for his wife. If the child grows up knowing he has a father like this, it'll be nothing but shame."

As the flood of insults drowned me out, my parents arrived—supporting Victoria between them.

The aftereffects of childbirth had yet to fade. Her face was deathly pale, her entire body frail to the point that it seemed she might collapse at any moment.

My parents helped her over to me. The moment she saw me, she asked anxiously, "Honey, are you okay?"

Her voice was so soft it seemed she barely had the strength to speak. Even so, she still worried about me.

Looking into her eyes, filled with concern and affection, I shook my head without saying a word.

Seeing this, my father spoke sternly, "Matt, your mother and I thought about this all night. We can't understand why you're suddenly treating Victoria like this. You're our son. I refuse to believe you're this kind of person. So we wondered if you'd misunderstood something. Last night, we rushed a paternity test. The child Victoria gave birth to is indeed your biological son. How could you still ask for a divorce?"

As he spoke, my father threw the paternity report in front of me.

I bent down and picked it up.

My mother continued, her voice full of urgency, "Matt, Victoria saw the livestream of you being attacked online. She was worried something might happen to you, so she rushed over without a second thought. Even her parents couldn't stop her.

"She's thinking of you every moment—you can't hurt her like this. Be good. Apologize to her. Admit your mistake."

But despite my parents' heartfelt pleas, I remained unmoved.

In front of everyone, I tore the paternity report into pieces.