Chapter 1

On our third wedding anniversary, Liam cooked steak for me himself.

Under the flickering candlelight, his phone suddenly lit up. The name "Aurora" flashed on the screen.

He froze mid-cut, set his fork and knife down, and elegantly wiped his hands with a napkin.

"I’m sorry, Jennifer."

He looked at me, his eyes as gentle as a warm spring breeze.

"Aurora ran into some trouble over there. I need to go help her."

I sat on the opposite side of the long table, my face unable to form any expression to make him stay.

He walked over, gently ruffled my hair out of habit, and spoke in a pampering tone, as if soothing a child.

"Be good, don't be mad. I’ll bring you your favorite chestnut cake tomorrow, okay?"

He forgot that I am severely allergic to chestnuts. One bite, and I would go into anaphylactic shock.

"Jennifer, since when did you learn to play such childish games?"

Liam stood in the foyer, holding the thin piece of paper.

He had just put on his custom leather shoes, his dark gray suit jacket draped over his arm.

The overhead light in the entryway hit his face, highlighting his sharp brow bone and straight nose.

His tone wasn't harsh. In fact, he had a trace of a helpless smile on his face.

Like he was looking at a throwing-a-tantrum child.

I stood three steps away from him, my hands hanging loosely at my sides.

"It’s not a game."

I looked into his eyes, my voice flat, without a single ripple of emotion.

"I’ve already signed it."

Liam looked down at the paper.

The bolded words DIVORCE AGREEMENT stared back at him, incredibly sharp against the white paper.

He flicked the edge of the paper with his long fingers, making a sharp snap.

"All of this just because of Aurora’s call?"

He sighed, took a step forward, and reached out to touch my cheek.

I tilted my head slightly, dodging his touch.

His hand froze in mid-air, then he naturally pulled it back and slipped it into his trouser pocket.

"Jennifer, we’ve been married for three years. You’ve always been a smart, sensible girl."

Liam’s voice was deep, carrying his usual calm composure.

"Aurora just moved back to the country. She doesn’t know anyone here."

"Her car broke down, and she was scared to death being alone on the highway."

"You usually cry over a stray cat, yet now you’re throwing a fit over a friend in need?"

He stared at my face.

I suffer from facial neuropathy. My facial nerves are damaged.

Whether I am happy or dying of heartbreak, my face remains a stiff, expressionless mask.

Liam once said he loved my cold, low-maintenance look.

He liked that I didn’t overreact like other women, and that I never cried or threw tantrums over minor things.

"I’m not throwing a fit," I stated calmly. "I just want a divorce."

Liam’s brows finally knitted together.

He casually threw the agreement onto the shoe cabinet nearby.

"Jennifer, there is a limit to throwing tantrums." His tone grew colder.

"I had a lot of work at the office today, but I still made time to celebrate our anniversary."

"Now Aurora has an emergency. I’m going to handle it, and I’ll be back in two hours at most."

"You pulling out this paper—are you trying to make me feel guilty, or are you trying to prove how important you are to me?"

He looked down at me, his eyes filled with absolute certainty.

He was certain I could never leave him.

He was certain that beneath my expressionless face lay a deep, pathetic obsession with him.

"Liam," I called his name. My vocal cords felt dry because I hadn’t spoken much in a while.

"I made the division of assets very clear. I’m walking away with nothing."

"This house, and the car you bought me before—I’m leaving them all to you."

"If you don't have any objections, sign the bottom right corner. See you at City Hall tomorrow morning at nine."

Liam stared at me for ten long seconds.

He seemed to be searching for a crack in my face, a trace of faked grievance, or a hint of playing hard to get.

But he found nothing.

I was like a pool of stagnant water. Not a single ripple.

Suddenly, he let out a laugh. It was a mix of mockery and indulgence.

"Fine, Jennifer. Since you want to play this game so badly, I'll play along."

He pulled his Montblanc pen from his inner suit pocket.

He unscrewed the cap in one smooth motion.

He signed his name on the bottom right corner of the agreement in a wild, cursive flourish.

The pen tip scratched loudly against the paper.

"I’ve signed it." He capped the pen and pushed the paper toward me.

"I’ll have John drive you to City Hall tomorrow at nine."

"I hope you sleep well tonight. Just don't cry and beg me to tear this paper up tomorrow morning."

He adjusted his tie.

That tie was bought with half of my monthly salary last month.

The dark red stripes matched his suit perfectly today.

"I’m leaving. Eat dinner by yourself."

He pulled the door open. The night wind rushed in, blowing the hem of my dress.

"Remember to take your meds," he left his final words without turning around.

The door clicked shut, and the foyer fell back into a dead silence.

I walked over and picked up the signed agreement.

Liam’s handwriting was beautiful and sharp.

I stared at the name for a moment, then folded the paper neatly and put it into my canvas tote bag.