I had been married to Natasha Bates for ten years, and not once did she ever join me for our family's Independence Day cookout.

This year, on the night before the celebration, I finally gathered the courage to ask if she wanted to come.

She scoffed and said, "What are you, stuck in the past? Who even celebrates the Fourth with a family dinner anymore?"

Yet that very evening, I saw a social media post of Natasha with her male best friend, Stanley Rogers. They were quite intimate in the picture, and the caption read: [True happiness is celebrating Independence Day with your bestie!]

I commented back: [Hope you two lovebirds make it official soon.]

Stanley did not hold back. He messaged me a bunch of intimate photos of the two of them. Then, he added, [You're just a leech living off his wife. What right do you have to question anything about Nattie?]

Everyone always thought I was a gold-digger living off Natasha's success. However, they all forgot that I was the sole major shareholder of the company.

This time, I’m done staying silent.

Natasha Bates did not get home until two in the morning, and the dinner I had made had gone completely cold. She had just finished meeting up with her guy best friend, Stanley Rogers, and even posted on social media.

[True happiness is celebrating Independence Day with your bestie!]

She did it on purpose. She knew I had her notifications turned on, so I got the notification the moment she uploaded something.

She watched me silently clear away the cold food and said indifferently, "I already told you I wasn't coming home. What's with that expression?"

I stayed quiet. She used to say she did not want anything fancy for the holidays, just a homemade meal from me. Nonetheless, that was a long time ago. People would change, and clearly, she had forgotten everything she once said.

As the heiress of the Bates family, Natasha had men constantly pursuing her even after our marriage. She had always ruthlessly rejected them all.

Yet, Stanley was different. He was her childhood friend and male best friend, a few years younger than her, with youthful energy that effortlessly drew her attention.

She did not even realize it herself, but the way she looked at Stanley was incredibly affectionate.

Later, after checking in on our son, Ollie Grant, she walked over and stood in front of me while I sat on the couch watching the news.

Her tone was cold as she said, "Stanley is just my best friend. There's nothing between us. You're making it sound so dirty."

I looked up at Natasha, my gaze calm. "Is that so? He's still a man. Even if he's your best friend, you should maintain proper boundaries. Do you think it's appropriate for him to be hugging and holding you like that?"

Natasha frowned, obviously annoyed. She snapped, "I've told you so many times, he doesn't even like women! Aren't you too old for acting this unreasonable?"

I fell silent.

I was the one being unreasonable?

Stanley had openly flaunted their relationship and shamelessly insulted me at every turn. Yet, I was supposed to just swallow my pride and tolerate it?

A bitter feeling welled up in my chest. Of course, without Natasha's indulgence, Stanley would not have dared to act so arrogantly.

Natasha waved impatiently and said, "You're going to call him right now and apologize!"

With that, she threw her phone onto the couch. The phone was just like my shattered dignity, trampled on carelessly by her.

Maybe that was exactly what she wanted.

I swallowed the bitterness in my heart and kept my voice calm. "He's a man who doesn't know how to mind his boundaries with my wife, and I'm supposed to be the one apologizing?"

Natasha was incensed, glaring at me as she growled, "First of all, there's nothing between us, and second, Stanley is the young heir of the Rogers family. What gives you the right to offend him?"

She demanded, "Now, go apologize immediately!"

Her tone was domineering, her eyes cold and distant, carrying that superior attitude she always had.

I stared at her angry expression, feeling somewhat dazed. Borned with a silver spoon in the Bates family, she had always been overbearing. Back in college, she was already involved in company affairs, going to business dinners, negotiating deals, and securing contracts.

Later, she smoothly inherited the company and became an admirable female CEO.

Meanwhile, I was just an orphan who had lost both parents young and was lucky enough to be sponsored by her for my education.

We met through her sponsorship, then fell in love, and got married after graduation.

Everyone said I was not good enough for her—a broke nobody marrying a wealthy heiress.

I knew it too. Hence, for all these years, I followed her lead in everything, whether in business or personal life, practically bent over backward just to make her happy.

However, I did not want to listen to her anymore this time.

"No!" I locked eyes with Natasha and said the word slowly, firmly.

She looked at me in disbelief, never expecting that someone as meek as me would actually refuse her. Anger flashed across her face, and she was about to explode when Stanley's call came in, breaking the tense atmosphere.

I answered and put it on speaker, and his upbeat voice rang out. "Nattie, are you there? You left your necklace on my bed. Do you want me to drop it off tomorrow?"

A sarcastic smile tugged at my lips.

Natasha's face immediately tensed up in panic as she rushed to explain, "I went out drinking with him. I just crashed on his bed for a bit, nothing happened—"

"Cut ties with him," I said softly, wanting to give her one last chance.

However, Stanley's voice suddenly spiked through the phone. He shouted, "Kieran, who the hell do you think you are to control who Nattie hangs out with? Don't forget your place—you're just a freeloader!"

Finally, he added dismissively, "And stop being so paranoid. If Nattie and I had something going on, you think she would've married you?"

I handed the phone back to Natasha and repeated myself. "Cut ties with him!"

"Are you done making a scene?" Natasha barked as she hung up the phone, her eyes blazing as she looked at me impatiently.

She continued, "The Rogers and Bates families go way back! Our companies are closely tied. Do you have any idea what kind of financial damage it would cause if I cut Stanley off?

"Kieran Grant, you're thirty years old. Can you stop being so childish? It's just some photos. Do you really have to make this a big deal?"

Her fury only made me calmer, and I felt nothing. Then, I heard myself say, "Let's get a divorce."

Natasha and I stared at each other in silence, and the room fell into a deathly quiet.

She seemed shocked I would actually bring up divorce. After all, I had once sworn to her I would never leave her.

Then again, that was several years ago, when Natasha had just taken over the company and was preparing to land a major project. There were many competitors, and one ruthless company had orchestrated a car accident.

When the crash happened, I instinctively threw myself over her to shield her from most of the impact.

While we waited for rescue, I was barely breathing and told her, "If I die, you have to forget about me and find someone new to start over with!"

She cried and shook her head, making me promise I would never leave her. As long as I did not leave her, she was willing to do anything.

It seemed she had long forgotten what she said, and I had broken my promise.

Still, I said it. I asked for the divorce.

After those words left my mouth, I slowly stood up and walked toward the guest room.

Her voice snapped from behind me, filled with fury. "Divorce? Fine, but don't you dare regret it!"

She slammed the door with a bang and left, while I lay on the bed, eyes burning with tears. I could not stop thinking about how kind she used to be.

Back in school, I was a poor orphan who was small and skinny, constantly getting bullied. I was so insecure and weak that I did not even dare fight back.

I just swallowed everything and cried in silence.

Until that day, when Natasha somehow found me in the corner where I was hiding. She stood in front of me and casually said, "What's the point of crying? If you don't want to be bullied, then get stronger. Always giving in just makes your enemies bolder.”

She said many more comforting and encouraging words to me. That day, she seemed like an angel who had come down from heaven to save me.

Later, I followed her advice. When those bullies came to mess with me again, I fought back, ending up bloody and swollen.

On my way home, I ran into Natasha. She smiled and gave me a thumbs-up.

From that day on, no one ever bullied me again because everyone knew I was like a rabid dog who would fight desperately if anyone dared to trample on my dignity.

I never hid away to cry alone again, either.

Until now.

The tears flowed freely once more, releasing all the grievances I had bottled up for so many years.