Third Person's POV

Glass shards covered the floor. The once-beautiful wedding photo that used to hang on the wall was now shattered and torn beyond repair.

Matthew was stomping on her face in the picture, laughing as he did, spewing crude words that no child his age should even know.

Across the room, Gabrielle turned her head with a smirk, clearly enjoying the scene. Her eyes locked on Clarissa with a mocking glint. She didn’t see her as a threat, barely even as a person.

Then she turned to her son and gave him instructions like she was coaching a performance.

"Matthew, do you want Daddy or not? If you do, then do exactly what Mommy just told you."

The boy nodded like an obedient little soldier. Then, without a second of hesitation, he picked up a lighter and flicked it on, holding it to a diary clutched in his other hand.

Clarissa's heart seized.

“No! Don’t. Don’t do that!” she shouted, panic surging through her chest.

Frantically, she pushed her wheelchair forward, chasing him down the room. But Matthew thought it was a game. He ran in circles, always just out of reach, laughing like this was all some kind of sick fun.

By the time she finally caught up, the damage was done. The diary had burned to nothing—just a pile of gray ash.

Clarissa’s hands trembled as she picked up the one tiny, half-burnt corner left. Her shoulders shook with sobs she could no longer hold back.

That diary had been the only thing her parents left her. It documented their short lives, their hopes, and their love. It was her only connection to them. For years, in the lonely silence of her life, she'd read it to feel less alone.

When she married Norris, she had brought it with her to this house. She wanted to lock it away, but he told her not to worry.

"As long as I’m here, no one would dare touch it," he had said.

But he didn’t keep his word.

Now, not only had someone touched it—they’d destroyed it. And he’d let them walk in and do it.

Clarissa clutched the tiny scrap of paper tightly in her palm. Her voice was raw with fury and heartbreak as she shouted, “Gabrielle! Is this how you raise your son? Teaching him to destroy things that don’t belong to him? Did you ever teach him what basic respect even means?”

For a moment, Gabrielle looked taken aback. Her eyes reddened, and tears welled up.

“Matthew never had a father growing up. I raised him alone. Blame me if you want, but he’s still just a child. You don’t have to be so harsh. I’m sorry, okay? I’ll apologize.”

Clarissa frowned, unsure how to respond, but then she felt a heavy gaze.

She turned and saw Norris standing at the doorway, his expression dark. He strode toward them, face set in a deep scowl.

“Clarissa,” he said, “he’s a child. Why do you keep picking fights with him? Gabrielle even agreed to give you the room back. Isn’t that enough? Do you really have to drive them out to feel satisfied?”

His voice was sharp, edged with frustration.

Clarissa’s heart clenched. She held up the charred piece of the diary with shaking hands, her voice breaking as she tried to explain, “Norris, do you even know what he—”

Before she could finish, he slapped the burnt scrap from her hand.

“It’s just a notebook, Clarissa!” he snapped. “What boy his age isn’t a little wild? Must you make such a big deal out of it? If you want, I’ll buy you a hundred more, a thousand! Will that finally be enough for you?”

She stared at the paper fragment as it fluttered to the ground, only to be stepped on by Gabrielle’s heel.

That was it. Something in her finally gave way.

A hollow laugh escaped her lips, bitter and worn out. She let her body fall back in the wheelchair like all the fight had drained from her.

“Fine,” she said quietly. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”

For a second, Norris’s expression shifted. Her defeated tone hit him in a place he didn’t expect, and it stung. Seeing despair in her lifeless eyes, he opened his mouth, maybe to apologize, but before he could speak, Matthew cut in.

“Uncle Norris, can I play with this?” the boy asked, holding up a small gift box in his hands.

Norris glanced over, assuming it was just some empty box lying around.

“Sure,” he said. “Go ahead.”

But Clarissa knew exactly what was inside. Her eyes widened in panic, and she quickly shouted, “No! You can’t touch that!”

Third Person's POV

Just when a trace of guilt had begun to creep into Norris’s heart, Clarissa’s voice made him frown again.

“It’s just an old box. Do you have to be so petty, Clarissa? Or is it that you just can’t stand anything he does?”

Clarissa froze. His words hit her like a slap. She stared at him, disbelief washing over her. It hit her then. He truly didn’t remember what was in that box.

Her hand, which had reached out instinctively, lingered midair. She hesitated for a long moment, thinking maybe she should remind him about the ring.

But before she could say anything, Matthew cut in.

“Uncle Norris, I really want this box. Can I throw out what’s inside?”

Already irritated by Clarissa, Norris didn’t even think twice. He just wanted to shut this whole scene down.

“Sure. Toss it if you want.”

Clarissa’s heart sank when she saw Matthew pull out the ring. Her chest tightened, and she instinctively tried to reach for it.

But Matthew was already walking toward the fireplace, just about to toss it in, when he paused. He looked back at his mother.

“Mom, this ring’s kind of pretty. Are you sure we should throw it away?”

Gabrielle’s face stiffened. She didn’t dare look at Norris. Instead, she blinked rapidly, silently urging her son to go through with it.

Norris’s expression shifted slightly when he heard the word “ring.” He turned to look, only to see it fall into the fire.

In a flash, the flames swallowed it.

His gaze snapped to Clarissa. He opened his mouth several times, trying to speak, but the look in her eyes left him hollow. Words stuck in his throat.

Clarissa didn’t look at him. Without a word, she wheeled herself to the fireplace and reached in, trying to retrieve the ring.

The fire had only just started and wasn’t roaring yet, but it was still hot enough to make her flinch and hiss from the pain.

Norris’s heart twisted at the sight. He instinctively stepped forward, ready to pull her back, but Gabrielle got there first.

She hurried over with her son in her arms, gave him a few heavy pats, then turned teary eyes on Clarissa.

“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I didn’t teach him better. Please, let me apologize on his behalf. Just tell me how much the ring costs. I’ll save up and buy you a new one.”

Clarissa stared at her blankly, the expression on Gabrielle’s face utterly fake to her.

Not getting a response, Gabrielle glanced at Norris from the corner of her eye and saw his attention still fixed on Clarissa. Her gaze hardened. Then, with a thud, she dropped to her knees.

“It’s all my fault. Please, Clarissa, forgive me. If you’re still mad, then hit me. Go ahead!”

She grabbed Clarissa’s hand and slapped it against her own face. Clarissa tried to pull back, but Gabrielle wouldn’t let go.

A loud smack echoed through the room. Gabrielle’s cheek reddened immediately.

Not satisfied, she let go of Clarissa’s hand and began slapping herself, over and over, crying and apologizing between each blow.

Clarissa frowned at the absurd scene. She opened her mouth to tell her to stop the act, but before she could speak, Norris shoved her away.

Her wheelchair wasn’t locked, so the sudden force sent her sliding backward. The chair slammed into the desk behind her, and she tumbled out, landing hard on the floor.

Norris hadn’t meant to push her that hard. His eyes widened in shock, and he started toward her, but Gabrielle caught his arm first.

He turned to see her swollen, tear-streaked face. Something in him froze. Without saying anything, he pulled her into his arms protectively.

Then he looked down at Clarissa coldly.

“Clarissa, Gabrielle already apologized. Why won’t you let it go? It’s just a ring. Did you really have to humiliate her by trying to fish it out of the fire?”

Clarissa lay awkwardly on the floor, her burned hand pressed against the wooden floorboards. Pain shot through her, leaving her speechless.

Her legs were numb, making it useless. Still, she tried to lift herself multiple times, only to collapse again and again. The helplessness brought tears to her eyes.

Norris hesitated, guilt flickering in his eyes. He took a step forward to help, but Matthew quickly grabbed his hand.

“Uncle Norris, it’s my fault. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make her mad.”

His small hand tugged gently, and that was all it took for Norris’s heart to soften. He steeled himself once again against Clarissa.

“If you love making life difficult for others so much,” he said coldly, “then you can pick yourself up off the floor. Let’s see how long you can keep playing the victim.”

Clarissa stared at him as he stepped right on their torn wedding photo, grinding it under his shoe.

It felt like he was stepping on her heart, crushing what little hope she had left.

In that moment, something inside her broke.

She didn’t want to love him anymore.

Not even a little.

Third Person's POV

Clarissa lay on the floor for what felt like forever before finally managing to crawl back into her wheelchair.

The bedroom, once warm and comforting, was now a complete mess. But Norris didn’t seem to see any of it. All he remembered was her being "dramatic."

Clarissa let out a soft laugh, more bitter than amused, like she was mocking herself.

A moment later, she pulled out her phone and dialed her lawyer.

“How much longer will it take?”

Attorney Turner sounded surprised,. “I was just about to call you!

The process is almost done,the marriage relationship will be dissolved tomorrow.”

Clarissa found herself subconsciously picking at her palm. So, five years of marriage end in less than five days.

She swallowed the last trace of hesitation and told him to bring it over tonight.

But before she even had time to read the papers, Norris unexpectedly called her away to attend a family dinner.

Clarissa rarely joined the Daniel family gatherings. She knew they didn’t like her, and honestly, the feeling was mutual. So she had no idea why Norris insisted she come this time.

It wasn’t until they got in the car that everything made sense.

“Clarissa,” Gabrielle said sweetly from the backseat, “Matthew’s such a restless little guy. I’ll hold him here, hope you don’t mind?”

The backseat used to have a special seat just for Clarissa. Now, Gabrielle was sitting there, comfortably settled beside Norris.

Even so, Clarissa didn’t even glance at him. After a beat of silence, she replied calmly, “Not at all. Go ahead.”

Norris was caught off guard by how indifferent she sounded. She didn’t argue or complain, which was a surprise. He even got out of the car to help her in, like he used to.

But Clarissa, though still in pain from the burns, pushed herself up into the front passenger seat on her own. When he moved to fold her wheelchair, she subtly pulled it away and quickly did it herself without saying a word.

His hand froze in midair, which was denied again, and a strange emptiness crept in, but was quickly replaced by irritation. After stiffening momentarily, he got into the car.

The drive was quiet in the front as Clarissa kept her mouth shut, contradicting the backseat, which was buzzing with laughter and cheerful small talk, like one happy little family.

It didn’t take long for Clarissa to realize the truth that it was Gabrielle’s idea to bring her along tonight.

Apparently, it was “to help them bond.” But Norris knew perfectly well that his family had never accepted her.

Still, just because Gabrielle asked, he went along with it without a second thought.

Clarissa glanced at the rearview mirror and caught the soft expression in Norris’s eyes as he looked at Gabrielle.

'So that’s what it looks like when he loves someone. Not the forced gentleness he gave me before. It's all real, effortless, and natural,' Clarissa thought.

She stared too long until her face felt wet.

Startled, she snapped out of it and realized her tears had already soaked her cheeks.

Quickly, she turned toward the window and closed her eyes, pretending to sleep as the wind dried her tears.

As always, the Daniel family gathering was crowded. Some people she saw often, others she barely recognized. No matter their usual schedules, everyone made it to these dinners.

There were five large tables filled, but Clarissa only knew a few of the faces.

She had planned to quietly endure the night, play the part of the invisible wife, and get through it.

But Gabrielle had other plans.

“I’ve been living overseas all these years, and only just found out that Norris got married,” she said sweetly, raising her glass. “Let’s all toast to Clarissa for taking care of him these past five years.”

Gabrielle had grown up with Norris, so most people at the table were closer to her than they ever were to Clarissa.

As such, even if they didn’t like Clarissa, they still politely raised their glasses at Gabrielle’s suggestion.

Clarissa sat stiffly, like she was going into battle. Her smile was forced, her fingers trembling slightly as she raised her glass and drank.

She had always been a lightweight. One drink and her face had already gone pale. But Gabrielle wasn’t done.

“Oh, that won’t do,” she chirped, looking around. “So many people toasted you, Clarissa. You can’t just stop after one drink, can you? What do you think, Norris?”

Norris looked at Clarissa’s cold, emotionless face and frowned.

“You only come around once in a while, and you’re already pulling a long face?” he said. “If you hate my family so much, why’d you marry me in the first place?”

Clarissa froze as a memory flashed in her mind. He was the one who had proposed.

But what was the point in bringing that up now?

She laughed quietly. It didn’t matter anymore. They were getting divorced anyway.

She was about to excuse herself and leave when Gabrielle suddenly stood up and grabbed her wheelchair.

“Clarissa’s not very mobile, so I’ll help her. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she toasts everyone,” she said with a sugary smile. “Right, Clarissa?”

Third Person's POV

Clarissa opened her mouth to refuse, but Norris didn’t give her the chance.

“Clarissa,” he said coldly, “you can either do this the easy way or the hard way.”

The words she’d been holding in her throat died instantly. With all the judgmental stares from his family aimed right at her, she couldn’t bring herself to say no.

With that, Gabrielle pushed her from table to table and made her toast every single person, from elders to cousins, and even the children.

Every time she managed to swallow a drink, another glass was shoved into her hand. Her stomach burned, and her bladder was close to bursting. She tried several times to tell Gabrielle, in a hushed voice, that she needed to use the restroom. But whether by accident or on purpose, Gabrielle ignored her every time.

Finally, after making the full round, Clarissa was wheeled back beside Norris. Her head spun.

She hadn’t even sat for a second before she tried to maneuver her chair toward the bathroom, but the wheels wouldn’t budge. The wheelchair had been locked in place.

She glanced toward Gabrielle, now cheerfully chatting and toasting across the room, and her eyes darkened.

Clarissa took a deep breath and tapped Norris on the shoulder. He turned with a questioning look, but before she could get a word out, Gabrielle was back again, raising her glass.

“Norris,” she said sweetly, “I hardly recognize anyone anymore. Come with me, help me say hello.”

Right after saying that, Gabrielle immediately pulled him away with her. At that time, half the guests had already drifted off to catch up elsewhere.

And just like that, anyone who passed by Clarissa was subtly pulled away by Gabrielle with one excuse or another. Clarissa understood exactly what was happening. But there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

The alcohol was catching up with her. Her stomach churned, and her head pounded. She leaned back in the chair, trying to stay composed. She didn’t even realize she’d lost control.

Until a shrill voice rang out.

“Ew! What’s that smell? Yuck! That bad auntie peed herself! Gross!”

It was Matthew. He shrieked that out loud enough for everyone to hear.

Clarissa snapped to attention, eyes wide. She looked down and felt the wetness beneath her.

Whispers and laughter buzzed around her. People gathered, trying to hide their disgust, but failing miserably.

Her whole body went stiff. She buried her head, her hands clenched tight, and her eyelashes trembling. The kids’ laughter stabbed at her ears.

She gripped the armrests and tried desperately to wheel herself away, but the wheelchair wouldn’t move. Panic crawled up her spine as more eyes zeroed in on her like spotlights.

She braced her hands against the armrests and tried to stand, but the moment her lifeless legs touched the floor, she crumpled like a rag doll.

Fortunately, someone caught her before she hit the ground.

Clarissa didn’t care who it was. She clung to that person like she was drowning, her voice cracking with desperation as she begged, “Take me away... Please... just get me out of here.”

Without a word, the man lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the event hall. He brought her to the staff break room and quietly left her there.

He’d left behind clean clothes for her, folded neatly on her lap.

Changed into new clothes, Clarissa broke down, her shoulders trembling as the tears finally came. Her quiet sobs echoed in the small room.

Suddenly, the door slammed open, and Norris stormed in, face twisted in fury.

“Clarissa!” he roared. “I didn’t realize you already had a new man! Who was he, huh? Tell me! We’re still married, and you’re already cheating on me?! What kind of woman are you?!”

The rage in his voice stunned her into silence.

She looked up at him, disbelief written all over her face.

She had just been humiliated in front of his entire family, and a kind waiter had helped her before she completely fell apart, and this was what Norris assumed?

How could he think that of her? He knew what she'd been through over the past fifteen years. How could he say that?

Her heart went numb. The calm mask she always wore cracked, revealing raw pain and fury underneath.

“Norris,” she said through gritted teeth, “you didn’t even ask me what happened. You just assumed I cheated. Do you even know what Gabrielle—”

Before she could finish, he slammed his hand down beside her, face twisted with anger.

“You’re still blaming Gabrielle? What, did she force you to sneak off with some man at the party behind my back?”

Clarissa stared at him, barely recognizing the man she’d loved for fifteen years.

She clutched the clothes in her lap, shut her eyes, and let out a bitter laugh.

“Fine. You’re right. I found someone else. Let’s just get this over with.We are divorced.”

Norris’s eyes flared. He clenched his fists, the veins in his arms popping.

“You said it. Don’t come crying to me later.”

Clarissa took a deep breath to push down the lump in her throat. She reached into the bag she’d never taken off her shoulder and pulled out the divorce papers.

“No, I won’t regret it,” she said quietly. “Now, sign it.”

Norris stared at the papers in her hand. For a brief second, panic flickered in his chest.

But then he convinced himself it was a bluff, that she just wanted attention, It's just a fake divorce,and this was some scheme to compete with Gabrielle.

He snatched the papers, skimmed them, then scoffed.

The words "property agreement" stared back at him, fueling his rage. He didn’t even bother checking what she was asking for. He just wanted to prove he didn’t care.

He signed without hesitation and flung the document at her before storming to the door.

“See you at the county clerk's office tomorrow.”

Clarissa didn’t answer, and he took her silence as agreement.

But only she knew that there would be no tomorrow.

She wasn’t going home. She’d already packed a bag. Her aunt was taking her straight to the airport tonight.

The divorce certificate didn’t matter anymore.

On the ride to the airport, she blocked every way Norris could ever contact her again.

And she scheduled one final message to be delivered later.

[Norris, if my love ever made you feel guilty, then I take it back. Thank God the child was yours and Gabrielle’s, not mine. As you wished, we really got divorced. Thank you.Otherwise, I might never have had the strength to leave. Thank you for the fifteen years you gave me. I hope I find happiness. Let’s never see each other again.]