Chapter 3

A relieved smile broke across his face. Assuming the storm had passed, he reached for me again.

"Alright, alright. Let's go home."

I didn't budge.

"I'm keeping the cash as compensation for my wasted time. But the divorce is still happening."

His smile froze.

Beside him, the young coworker looked on the verge of tears, anxiously waving her hands.

"Sadie, it's really not what you think! Sean and I are strictly professional, we never—"

"I know," I cut her off.

She blinked, stunned.

"I know nothing has happened between you two yet."

I looked straight into her eyes.

"That's not the point."

I turned my gaze back to him.

"The point is, to you, a girl you barely know matters more than your own wife."

"You didn't hesitate for a second to drop twelve grand on her, while I wasn't even worth twenty dollars for basic hygiene products."

"Sadie," his expression darkened.

"And as for you,"

I redirected my focus back to the coworker.

"You're not entirely innocent either. If you couldn't afford rent, there were dozens of people in your office. Why seek out a married man to borrow a massive sum?"

"If your intentions were completely pure, why didn't you want me to know about it?"

Her face flushed crimson, her lips trembling without a comeback.

I steered the stroller around them.

"I've said my piece. I'm getting lunch. Care to join?"

The two of them stood frozen on the sidewalk, their faces pale and humiliated.

He didn't speak. The girl tugged at his sleeve, whispering, "Sean, maybe you should go home. Don't fight with her anymore."

Without looking back, I pushed the stroller toward the plaza.

Behind me, his muffled, furious voice called out, "Sadie!"

I lifted a hand, waving flippantly without breaking stride.

I treated my baby to a fantastic meal.

Whenever I used to eat out with him, he would whine if the bill topped fifty dollars.

Today, paying with his money, the food tasted exceptionally sweet.

My son sat in the high chair happily making a mess of his mashed potatoes, and I gently wiped his cheeks with a warm cloth.

My phone vibrated endlessly against the tabletop.

Every notification was from him.

"How long are you going to keep throwing this tantrum?"

"Can you show some maturity? My coworker was standing right there! Couldn't you give me some dignity?"

"You never used to be like this."

"I swear, if I'd known you were this kind of woman, I never would've married you."

I took a slow sip of miso soup, finished it, and finally typed a reply.

"Then perfect. Let's get divorced so you don't have to suffer anymore."

After lunch, I strolled leisurely back to the condo with the stroller.

When the elevator doors dinged open on my floor, I stopped dead in my tracks.

He was sitting on the floor right outside my front door.

His tie hung loose around his neck, his shirt sleeves were haphazardly rolled up to his elbows, and his hair was an unkempt mess.

Hearing the elevator, he lifted his head.

His eyes were bloodshot, his face pale and worn, looking like he'd been sitting there for hours.

He slowly pushed himself up, his voice raspy. "When did you become so heartless?"

I didn't answer. I pulled out my keys to unlock the door.

He shifted slightly, clearing a path, but didn't leave.

I opened the door, wheeled the stroller inside, and turned to block the doorway.

"Anything else?"

He stared at me, an unreadable storm brewing in his eyes.

"Do you really want a divorce that badly?" he asked.

"Yes."

I leaned against the doorframe, my voice flat.

"Every single day I spend around you makes me sick."