Chapter 3

Ethan rushed home upon hearing the news, staring blankly at the mess on the floor.

"Olivia, what are you throwing a tantrum about again? The baby is still sleeping, don't scare him."

At that moment, the long-suppressed emotions finally erupted.

I suddenly rushed over, grabbing Ethan's collar.

"Throwing a tantrum? Bringing another woman home and flirting with her right under my nose, who's really gone crazy!"

"Ethan, that's the child I painstakingly gave birth to, who could care for him more than me!"

Surprise flashed in Ethan's eyes, he had never seen me like this before.

Never seen me angry, much less cry.

Even on the eve of our wedding when I saw that message, I had only reddened eyes.

The air fell silent, until a cry came from the child.

I let go of his collar, messily wiping the tears from the corners of my eyes.

He sighed, taking out a handkerchief to gently wipe away my tears.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have treated you like this."

I yanked away the handkerchief, unceremoniously throwing it to the ground.

Then I shoved him away, diving straight into bed, covering my face as I cried until I couldn't breathe.

He sighed, gently patting my back through the blanket.

"Don't be angry anymore, okay? I was wrong."

"I was just worried about the child, I didn't mean anything else."

After a long while, I lifted the covers, the light in my eyes mostly scattered.

I looked at my now-flat belly and asked him:

"Ethan, if I hadn't been pregnant back then, would you still have chosen me?"

He froze, then sighed again, somewhat helplessly:

"Olivia, stop clinging to things from the past."

No answer was the best answer.

His answer was that without the child, he would never have chosen me.

Olivia, why bother humiliating yourself further at this point.

I pushed away his hand at my waist, telling him to get out.

He froze, then smiled, not coming home that night.

Early the next morning, he and Sophie entered the house one after another.

I sat at the dining table, pushing a divorce agreement in front of him.

The man and woman opposite both froze.

"Sophie, go upstairs first, I need to speak to my wife alone."

After she obediently went upstairs, Ethan looked at me, his gaze complex.

"Olivia, I've already coaxed you, you've vented your anger, why are you still throwing a tantrum?"

I sneered, just as he had laughed at me yesterday.

Ethan frowned.

Then he sighed helplessly.

"It's because of Sophie, right? I understand."

"Since you can't accept her, I'll send her away."

He compromised, but I didn't miss the unwillingness in his eyes.

I understood his reason for resisting divorce - not because he loved me, but because of that prenuptial agreement.

When I married him, I was a famous socialite in high society, while he was just a small business owner whose company had recently gone public.

To prevent him from coveting assets, my father had specially drawn up a prenuptial agreement biased in my favor.

According to the agreement, if I unilaterally filed for divorce, all property would belong to me.

Faced with such an unequal treaty, Ethan had signed without hesitation.

At the time I thought it was because he loved me deeply.

Now I realize it was just because he was certain I would never leave him.

Thinking of this, I picked up the pen and unhesitatingly signed my name.

Ethan's pupils flashed violently.

"Sign it, be quick about it."

In the end he still picked up the pen, signing his own name.

The once flowing signature was now crooked from hesitation.

With the documents signed, he grabbed my hand.

"There's still a three-month waiting period, do I still have a chance?"

I pulled my hand away, not answering.

That night I drank bottle after bottle with a friend.

"If you want to cry, just cry."

She gently patted my head, but I immediately shook my head.

"Can't cry."

"Finally ending a terrible relationship, I should be happy."

"Cheers."

Maybe I was too drunk, I didn't notice a tear had already slid down the corner of my eye.

That night I sat on the doorstep for a long time, only going in after the alcohol had worn off.

I didn't want him to see me so heartbroken, still for his sake.

A man walked out from behind, draping his jacket over my shoulders.

"I've already sent her away."

The wind blew past us, but still couldn't stir up a single word.