I leaned back in my chair with a cold snort.

"So you sent your secretary here just to ask me that?"

On the other end, Lisa's voice lost all patience, sharp with threat.

"So what if I broke a promise? You shouldn't make a scene over something so trivial! Unblock me right now, fix Shawn's code, and we'll call it even."

My jaw tightened. I was about to hang up when I heard laughter in the background—people teasing Shawn for wiping the sweat off her forehead. Sounded like they were Shawn's family.

I sneered.

"You're meeting Shawn's parents. Why bother calling me at all? Aren't you worried people might get the wrong idea? Oh, wait—you're right. In this whole company, I'm the only one who ever 'misunderstands.'"

Her voice suddenly spiked, shrill with anger.

"What are you saying? Don't spout nonsense! Shawn's family lives in a remote village. As his boss, what's wrong with showing concern? Only someone with a filthy heart sees filth everywhere!"

She was so furious she was gasping for air. Just then, a boyish voice chimed in nearby, "Lisa, my mom's cooked. Let's go in and eat."

In an instant, her tone melted into syrupy gentleness, like coaxing a child.

"Alright, Shawn. Go eat first. I'll come after I finish this call."

Then she turned her focus back to me, her voice cold as steel.

"Grayson, you'll have the program fixed and submitted within three days. If the schedule is delayed, you'll bear the breach of contract, resign in disgrace, and take the blame!"

She hung up violently.

I gave a bitter laugh. I should have faced the truth long ago: Lisa never loved me.

From the first time she ditched me for Shawn, the first time she lashed out at me on his behalf, I should have woken up. From the moment she signed the divorce papers, I should have known there was no going back.

I had no mood left for photos. I changed clothes and went back to the hotel.

My phone showed over a hundred missed calls—all from colleagues. Dozens of documents were flooding my corporate account, urging me to advance the project.

Only now did they realize I was the only one capable of handling it.

But in three days, I'd be divorced and resigned. Their breach of contract had nothing to do with me.

I submitted my resignation through the company system.

I thought Lisa wouldn't let me go easily, that she'd drag things out in a power struggle.

Unexpectedly, the process flew by. Within half an hour, everything was approved. Normally, resignation takes at least a day or two. Without her say-so, it would've been impossible.

She was even more ruthless than I had imagined.

Fine. Without the endless barrage of work messages, I felt lighter instantly.

As planned, I spent three carefree days enjoying myself before returning home to the apartment we had renovated together—the home we had clung to even in the hardest days of our startup.

Back then, we worked late into the night, came home exhausted, collapsed on the couch, and pressed the ache from each other's backs.

Life was hard, but those memories were sweet beyond words.

But later, Lisa almost never came home. She traveled the world with Shawn under the guise of business trips, while his social media was filled with check-ins at tourist spots.

I touched the pillow she once gave me. It was still soft, yet covered in dust—like our love, suffocating me to tears.

I knew there was nothing left here worth holding on to.

So I contacted an agent to sell the apartment.

The next day, I went to the company to pack my things.

Colleagues clustered in small groups, whispering as I carried my box past them. Word of my resignation had clearly spread.

Just as I reached the office door, Shawn stepped in front of me.

"Grayson, are you done fixing the code for my project?"

Then his gaze fell on the box in my arms. His face twisted in surprise.

"Grayson… why have you packed your belongings? Don't tell me you've resigned!"

I shot Shawn a withering look and snapped, "Are you stupid? You saw my resignation announcement on the company feed yesterday. Forgotten already?"

Shawn froze, his expression stiff, as though swallowing down his anger.

"Even if you've resigned, you'll still have to pay for the damages if this project isn't delivered."

I let out a sharp laugh, meeting his eyes with cool disdain.

"If I remember correctly, the contract lists you as the responsible party, doesn't it?"

Clicking my tongue twice, I brushed past him with a shoulder bump.

But with just that light nudge, he flew back as though hit by a car, stumbling several steps before collapsing onto the ground.

"Ah!"

"Shawn! Are you alright?"

Lisa came rushing over at the commotion. She helped him up, and when she saw he wasn't hurt, she tenderly dusted off his clothes. Then she turned, eyes like blades cutting straight through me.

"Why did you shove him? Apologize!"

Shawn glanced at me timidly, then looked back at her with pitiful eyes.

"Lisa, don't blame Grayson. It's my fault. I was too anxious about the Acestar project and…" He bit his lip. "I must have run too fast and tripped on my own."

Lisa patted his back, soothing him as though he were a child.

"You're too kind. I saw it clearly. He knocked you down on purpose."

Then she blocked my path.

"Grayson, is fixing a few bugs really that hard? Do you still want this job or not?"

I sneered. "I stopped wanting this job a long time ago. I already resigned yesterday. What's left to fix?"

"Resigned?" She narrowed her eyes. "What game are you playing now?"

The speed of my resignation had only been possible with her approval, and now she was pretending ignorance.

After a moment of silence, she leveled a cold gaze at me.

"I've already apologized for canceling our trip the other day. What more do you want? If you're dissatisfied with me, fine—but don't drag it into work."

She actually thought I was sulking about her ditching me.

I was exhausted, too tired to explain. I moved past them without a word.

But Lisa caught up in two strides.

"Stop! What's in that box? Company property and confidential files aren't yours to take."

I lifted my head, meeting her furious eyes. A wave of bitterness twisted into raw anger. Teeth clenched, trembling, I tipped the entire box over.

"See for yourself. What's inside?"

The contents spilled across the floor—nothing but my personal belongings.

Then came a brittle crack.

Lisa's heart flinched.

On the ground lay a shattered ceramic cup, its glaze worn with age but scrubbed clean.

She had given it to me back when we first started the company. Back when she said she wanted forever with me. Back when her promise was real.

Now it was broken—and that was real too.

Holding back tears, I ground the shards beneath my heel.

"I don't want this trash anymore. Let's never see each other again."

The pent-up resentment I had carried for so long finally burst free. The release was intoxicating.

I walked out of the company lighter than air—only to be stopped at the entrance by Anna Murphy from the bespoke atelier, holding a suit I had canceled.

It was the custom suit I'd once planned to wear for our third anniversary.

I frowned. "Who ordered this?"

"Ms. Blakely ordered it for Mr. Peterson," she explained. "It's the same design as the one you canceled."

"Is that so?"

I grabbed the suit, yanked with all my strength, and tore it apart, buttons scattering across the pavement.

No wonder Shawn had posted on social media about wearing a million-dollar suit to a gala with Lisa.

So he'd been flaunting it—on my dime.

I hurled the ruined suit to the ground.

"Tell Ms. Blakely I tore it up. This was a suit meant for me. Shawn could never wear it with dignity."

Under Anna's stunned gaze, I walked away.

The moment I held the divorce certificate in my hands at the courthouse, I felt a weight lift off my chest.

At last, I was free of this suffocating, humiliating marriage.

I hummed a tune as I returned home, lighthearted for the first time in years… until voices inside stopped me cold.

They belonged to Lisa's parents.

"Some man Grayson is! Useless as dirt, yet full of arrogance! We came all this way, and he didn't even bother to pick us up. Thank goodness Shawn showed up to take care of everything," Lisa's father, Dick Blakely, said. His voice echoed through the door.

Her mother, Margaret Olson, quickly chimed in, "Shawn may be from the countryside, but that boy is far more sensible than Grayson. And he knows how to respect his elders. Shawn, once you and Lisa have children, I'm sure you'll raise them well."

Shawn flushed, stammering, "Margaret, what are you saying? Lisa and Grayson are married."

But Margaret only grew more worked up, her voice rising in agitation.

"Marriage can end in divorce. Didn't you say he tore up the luxury suit Lisa had tailored for you? He's so violent and wasteful. How could anyone live with a man like that?"

My hand froze on the door handle. I didn't push it open.

Back when Lisa's company was nothing but a fledgling idea, her parents had treated me very differently.

Back then, they valued my capability, my career, and the help I could give her. Before we even married, they were calling me the perfect son-in-law at every turn.

The warmer they had been then, the colder their disdain felt now.

After a long pause, I heard Lisa's icy voice. She didn't speak a single word in my defense.

"Enough. Stop talking about this. Let's eat."

But her mother wouldn't let it go.

"Eat? Every time we bring up something serious, you brush it aside! I'm your mom, and I care for you. You're still young. Why not find a husband who actually cherishes you, treats you well, and honors your parents?"

She pressed on.

"Grayson is lazy and useless. At work, he can't compare to Shawn. At home, he doesn't lift a finger. How can he possibly take care of you? And you've been married three years. Why haven't you gotten pregnant? Maybe he's not capable of that."

Between the lines, she painted me as nothing but a failure.

What she didn't know was that the money her daughter had been squandering—flying around the world with her boy toy under the pretense of business trips—had all been earned by me.

"That's right," Dick added, "Shawn even heard about our carsickness and got us some snacks and ginger ale. Such a thoughtful guy!"

I laughed.

Some snacks and ginger ale, and that counted as "thoughtful"?

All these years, when Lisa was too busy building her company, who stayed by their side through every cough and fever?

Last year, when Dick broke his leg and couldn't care for himself, who carried out his bedpan and wiped him clean?

But none of that mattered. They remembered none of it.

My nails dug into my palms. I couldn't hold back anymore. I shoved the door open and stepped inside.

The four of them froze at the sight of me.

Lisa was the first to recover, her tone sharp and accusatory.

"Grayson, where have you been? Why are you only coming home now?"

Before I could speak, Margaret crossed her arms and sneered, "Some people think that just because they're a director at their wife's company, they're suddenly somebody. You're nothing but a freeloader."

I ignored her and locked eyes with Lisa.

"You didn't tell your mother I've resigned?"

Her brows knitted, eyes narrowing.

"Grayson, you're really overdoing it. Sulking about Shawn is one thing, but using resignation to threaten me? If it's for the company's sake, I'll seriously consider firing you."

I let out a bitter laugh.

"Lisa, what's the act for? You approved my resignation yourself yesterday. Forgotten already?"

Her mother's face lit with scorn, as if everything suddenly made sense.

"So that's it. You just want to quit and sit at home burning through my daughter's money like a leech!"

Something flickered in Lisa's expression.

"I never approved any resignation yesterday!"

I gave her a cold look, too tired to argue.

It didn't matter. Everything was already over. All that remained was to pack my things and get as far away from this family as possible.

I was about to head inside when Shawn called after me.

"Grayson, you're back! Come wash your hands and eat. I made simple home-style dishes. Don't look down on them, okay?"

He was wearing my apron, smiling warmly as he pulled out a chair for me, as if he were the man of this house.

I shot him a glance and let out a cold laugh, saying nothing.

"Stop right there!" Dick slammed the table. "Have you no manners? Shawn invites you kindly, and you put on airs? Our family doesn't need a son-in-law like you!"

Shawn rushed to his side, face full of wounded loyalty.

"Dick, don't blame Grayson. He's not targeting me. He's always had this temper..."

Margaret could hold back no longer.

"Grayson, even you must see it. If you don't want things to get ugly, just agree to the divorce already. Stop dragging this out—"

"Mom!" Lisa suddenly stood, cutting her off. "It doesn't have to come to divorce."

I turned to her, confused, catching a flicker of something almost like longing in her eyes.

"Grayson, what's gotten into you? You've been defying me at every turn. Refusing to fix a simple program, lashing out at Shawn, and even tearing up his suit in a tantrum. Are you hitting early menopause or something?"

I stared at her face, and the urge to slap her was almost unbearable.

She had brought her lover into my home, and now she accused me of having a hormonal breakdown.

I pulled the divorce certificate and flung it in her face.

"You're the one in menopause! Look closely, see for yourself. We're divorced. You and your family can get the hell out of my house!"