Chapter 3

The next morning at 8:30 AM.

Carrying my canvas bag, I walked out of the apartment building right on time.

A black Maybach was parked by the curb. The window rolled down, revealing Liam’s handsome face.

He had changed into a dark blue suit today. His hair was perfectly styled, and he looked sharp.

"Get in," he said calmly.

I opened the passenger door and sat inside.

A faint scent of perfume drifted through the car. It was the sweet, sickly jasmine scent Aurora always wore.

I didn’t say a word. I silently pulled the seatbelt over and buckled up.

Liam started the engine.

"Did you eat breakfast?" he asked casually, his long fingers resting on the steering wheel.

"Yes," I replied, watching the city streets slip past the window.

"Did Martha make you a sandwich?"

"No, I made pasta."

Liam let out a soft laugh.

"With your cooking skills, is that pasta even edible?"

There was a trace of familiarity in his tone that he didn't even notice.

As if we were just a regular couple heading to work, not heading to City Hall to file for divorce.

The car moved slowly through the morning rush hour traffic.

"Jennifer," Liam suddenly spoke, his voice losing its casual tone.

"I thought about it last night."

"Aurora just got back, and she needs my help with a lot of things. I might be busy for a while."

"If you’re bored at home by yourself, sign up for a flower arrangement class, or go have brunch with your friends."

"Let me know if you need more money."

He turned to glance at me.

"I’ll pretend I never saw that agreement from yesterday. I’ll have John take you back at the next intersection."

He still thought I was just acting out. He thought I was using the extreme threat of divorce just to get his attention.

"Liam," I turned my head to meet his gaze.

"I brought the agreement, and all my documents are in my bag."

"Take a left at the next intersection. That’s City Hall."

Liam’s face finally darkened.

He slammed on the brakes.

The car screeched to a halt at a red light, the tires protesting against the asphalt.

He turned his body fully toward me, glaring at me.

"Are you serious?" his voice was dangerously low.

"Yes," I replied without flinching.

The air in the car seemed to freeze.

The scent of jasmine became incredibly suffocating.

The light turned green, and the cars behind us started honking.

Liam snapped his gaze back to the road and slammed on the gas.

The Maybach shot forward like an arrow.

At exactly 9:00 AM, we walked into the City Hall clerk's office.

It wasn't crowded today. We sat down in front of the counter.

The clerk looked at our agreement, then at Liam, and finally at me.

"Are you sure about the division of assets? The wife is leaving with absolutely nothing?" the clerk double-checked.

"Yes," I replied flatly.

Liam sat beside me, his face grim.

His hands rested on his knees, the veins on the back of his hands bulging slightly.

"Sir, do you confirm?" the clerk asked him.

Liam turned to look at me.

A storm of complex emotions flashed through his eyes—anger, confusion, and a hint of panic he refused to admit.

But in the end, he sneered, "I confirm."

"Alright. This is your 30-day cooling-off notice," the clerk handed us two copies.

"In thirty days, if neither of you files a motion to dismiss, come back with this notice to collect your final divorce decree."

I took the paper, folded it carefully, and put it in my bag.

Liam didn't even look at his copy. He stood up immediately and walked out.

I followed him out of the building.

The sunlight was a bit blinding.

"Jennifer," Liam stopped on the steps, turning to look down at me.

"Thirty days. I’m giving you thirty days to calm down."

"If you still want to play this game in thirty days, I’ll give you what you want."

He looked down at me, as if granting me his ultimate mercy.

I didn't say anything.

I looked down at an ant on the steps, struggling to drag a breadcrumb three times its size.