Chapter 3

On the tenth call, she only replied with four words. “George won't let me.”

Since the ambulance took forever to arrive, the blood had already turned cold. The doctor said if they'd been any later, I wouldn't have made it.

Lying in the hospital bed, I stared numbly at the ceiling, unable to comprehend how Irene and I had ended up like this.

I think that's it.

Fine.

Forget it. Let it be.

From that day on, it felt like I had stopped loving Irene. Even now, when I saw their backs together, there was not a single ripple in my heart.

The ringtone reserved for that person interrupted my thoughts and I answered.

“Yeah, the divorce papers are drafted. I'll give them to her tomorrow.”

“Come and pick me up the day after tomorrow.”

I cleared the old things in the house and all the unimportant things were packed and thrown to a trash can.

That evening, Irene unexpectedly came back.

Turned out, in the end, the divorce agreement I had prepared went unused because she was the one who handed it first.

"Miles, George feels insecure. He says he doesn't want the child to be born as a bastard.”

"So, let's get divorced first, then after I register the child at the City Hall, we can remarry."

No wonder George texted me an hour ago and told me to wait for a surprise. He was trying to provoke me into having another argument with Irene.

Unfortunately, I no longer loved her. Even arguing with her felt like a waste of energy.

I calmly scanned the terms of the agreement.

It was very generous and fair; almost all of Irene's property is divided in half between us. And without a moment of hesitation, I signed my name.

After that, I drank the warm water on the table and prepared to get up and return to my room.

Obviously, Irene did not expect such decisiveness from me because with a flicker of surprise flashed in her eyes, she stood up and instinctively grabbed my wrist.

“What’s wrong with you?”

I turned back, my gaze distant and cold at her. “What's wrong? Is there something else?”

She glanced uneasily toward my bedroom. After a moment's hesitation, she walked inside and gathered every sharp object in my room, then prepared to call the housekeeper from the old estate.

So, she is afraid I’ll try to kill myself.

I laughed.

“There’s no need to trouble yourself. I won’t kill myself.”

Her phone rang and it was George who urged her to go home.

She gave me a perfunctory nod and hurried out the door.

Early the next morning, Irene pushed me to go downstairs and get our divorce papers from City Hall.

The car was plastered with stickers that she used to think were childish. It was according to George's taste.

I sensibly moved to the back seat.

Irene was stunned for a moment, then, with pouted mouth, she instinctively asked, "Why aren't you sitting up front?"

I answered absentmindedly while gazing at the receding scenery outside the window. "Isn't the front seat plastered with a sign ‘George's reserved seat’?"

Irene fell silent.

Several times, when she glanced at me through the rearview mirror, she opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out.

After registering our information, the clerk told us that we could collect our marriage certificate after the cooling-off period.

I let out a breath of relief.

Irene stood rooted to the spot with a complex expression. Her eyes filled with emotions I couldn't decipher.

“I'll take you home.”

When I was about to refuse, George appeared out of nowhere, swept Irene into his arms and pressed his lips to hers.

She scolded playfully, "Be careful with the baby!"

The moment George appeared, all her attention shifted to him. She didn't even notice when I left.

That night, all my luggage was already packed.

After confirming tomorrow’s flight with the woman, I was just about to sleep when the doorbell rang.