Chapter 2

Elara walked out of the bedroom, holding a document.

I looked up at her.

Her eyes were unreadable, her face serene.

There was none of the usual broken sadness or hysterical displays.

"I've signed this already. Let me know when you've booked a time with the Registrar's Office."

She handed me the document and turned to pour some tea.

The boiling kettle gurgled, a stream of water poured down, and the rich, earthy scent of tea immediately filled the room.

She picked up the cup, and I instinctively reached out to take it.

But she brought it to her own lips, taking a slow, relaxed sip.

Seeing my outstretched hand, she looked at me strangely:

"Isn't the divorce agreement in your hand?"

I frowned slightly, withdrew my hand, and began to read the "Divorce Agreement" carefully.

Ten minutes later, I looked up, asking in confusion:

"This isn't the one I gave you last time? Not a single word changed?"

Elara was leaning back on the sofa, casually sipping her tea and picking up the book she hadn't finished. She looked up from it, her expression blank for a moment before realizing what I was talking about.

"Oh, no, I didn't change it. I think it’s fine."

I stared at her for a moment, then, after thinking, I spoke.

"Elara, if you still can't get past it, I can increase the amount."

She tilted her head, a faint smile on her face.

"Increase it? Did Cynthia agree?"

A wave of displeasure and annoyance immediately surged through me.

For the past two years, whenever the topic of divorce came up, Elara would always bring Cynthia into it.

Perhaps in her eyes, I was a cheating husband who gave in to temptation, and Cynthia was a shameless homewrecker who intervened in someone else's family.

But she simply didn’t understand.

The depth of the painful entanglement and difficult struggles Cynthia and I went through to finally take this step.