Chapter 24

Emily felt a tickle in her nose and quickly turned away, covering her mouth as she sneezed.

A box of tissues was pushed toward her, and she hastily expressed her gratitude, "Sorry, Lawyer Wang, for the interruption. Please, continue."

Lawyer Wang smiled, "No worries. In fact, we've covered everything. Mrs. Emily Johnson, please review the divorce agreement once more to ensure there are no issues."

Emily dabbed her nose and picked up the few sheets of paper, meticulously reading through them again.

She and Anderson usually kept their finances separate, with their primary shared asset being their current residence, a property listed in both their names.

A few years ago, when they upgraded to this high-rise apartment, Teng Jie had contributed a substantial amount, with Emily also adding from her savings, covering half of the total cost. Anderson had provided the remaining half. Emily didn't want the house; her only clear request was for Anderson to repay her the portion funded by the Teng family, approximately five million yuan, based on the house's current market value.

For the other assets, she initially suggested a proportional division, with Anderson bearing his own debts. However, Lawyer Wang advised Emily to be prepared for a protracted battle, as Anderson would unlikely agree easily and would likely hire his own attorney to negotiate.

The worst-case scenario would be a lengthy and complex divorce litigation.

Emily acknowledged she understood and was mentally prepared.

Leaving the law office by 10:30 a.m., Emily stepped outside into a light, drizzling rain. She recalled someone mentioning last night to bring in the clothes.

She took a cab back to the apartment, surprised to find that Michael had neatly folded the clothes, including her bras and panties, and arranged them on the bed.

Her cheeks flushed.

His large hands handling the lace bras evoked an indescribably erotic image.

With over a week left on the apartment lease, Emily planned to move in here after confronting Anderson. She doubted Anderson would ever guess she'd move so close by.

Returning home, she pulled out her 30-inch travel suitcase, adorned with numerous old baggage stickers from domestic and international trips, now looking like relics of a bygone era.

There wasn't much she needed to pack—personal documents, a few outfits, toiletries... Many household items bore Anderson's imprint, and Emily wanted none of them.

Clothes and daily essentials could be replaced, but she couldn't part with her cookware and utensils. She arranged for a courier to collect her rare vintage cast iron pots and antique tableware, intending to send them to her brother and sister-in-law's house.

She called Teng Jie to inform him, only to learn that they had already sent their child to her sister-in-law's parents and planned to drive up after lunch, aiming to reach Eldoria by evening.

Teng Jie said, "I don't want you to feel like every day with Anderson is an eternity."

Emily cried while hastily packing, filling her suitcase.

She finally opened the safe, where she kept the gold jewelry given by her brother and sister-in-law when she got married, along with the seldom-worn wedding ring.

Despite her resolve to sever ties with the past, the memories were deeply ingrained—her brother walking her down the aisle, handing her to Anderson, Anderson slipping the ring onto her finger... these images were vivid.

Tears blurred her vision as she took out the ring from its velvet box and tried to put it on her finger.

Over the years, she had gained weight, and the platinum band now pinched her knuckle, refusing to slide down to its rightful place.

Not wanting to force it, she put the ring back in the box, left it in the safe, and closed the door.

Ill-fitting things are ill-fitting; wearing a ring that doesn't fit would only harm the finger, just like her marriage.

By 2:00 p.m., her stomach growled with hunger. The rain had stopped, and not wanting to cook, she decided to find a place to eat downstairs.

She paused at a noodle shop, went inside, and ordered a bowl of noodles, just like the one she had brought back with Michael that night.

As she ate, she messaged Michael, letting him know she might confront Anderson tonight.

A moment later, Michael called. With her mouth still full, Emily answered, "Hey, wait a sec… I'm eating noodles."

He chuckled, "At the same place?"

"Yeah..." Emily blew on her wonton to cool it, "Why did you call?"

Michael laughed again, "Just checking what you were up to. You've been silent all morning."

"It's just what I mentioned last night." Emily glanced around. The small restaurant was empty after lunch hour, so she lowered her voice, "Went to the lawyer's, then started packing. Oh, I sent off my expensive pots. And my brother and sister-in-law are driving up already..."

She was more talkative than usual, and Michael noticed.

Standing at the entrance of "Rong Ye Trading," he looked up at the majestic stone cathedral in the distance and interrupted Emily's stream of words, "Emily, are you nervous?"

Emily paused, "Me?"

"Yes, I sense you're quite tense."

Twirling the alkaline noodles in her soup with her chopsticks, Emily kept her head down and after a moment, whispered, "Of course I'm nervous, this is my first time getting a divorce..."

Michael's lips curved into a smile, and he chuckled hoarsely, "First time? Are you planning on having a second? No way, Emily, once is enough."

Emily's ears burned at his laughter. She switched the phone to her other ear, "I don't plan on a second time."

Michael bit his lip.

Not a second divorce? Not a second marriage? Or not falling in love again?

He didn't ask her then, simply said, "Emily, don't be nervous."

Emily sniffed and replied, "Okay, I'll try."

At 5 p.m., Emily returned from the small apartment, placing her suitcase back in its original spot. The closet looked almost the same with a slight adjustment of the hangers.

Sweating from the to-and-fro, she took a shower and finally had a moment to rest.

She avoided the sofa and bed as much as possible, preferring to sit cross-legged by the coffee table, sipping a sugary cola she hadn't had in ages, and let out a hearty burp.

Emily opened her messages and checked Sophia's social media moments.

Two hours earlier, Sophia had posted a nine-picture grid, which Emily had already seen at the noodle shop.

The caption was just an emoji, two small hearts of different sizes.

The photos seemed mundane, yet Emily could instantly spot traces of her home in them.

Like the similarly colored sofa, the empty bottle of sugar-free tea in the fridge, or Anderson's shoulder.

When she first saw it, she ignored it. But now, looking again, the post was still there, with no likes from mutual friends.

Emily guessed that Sophia had set the post to be visible only to her.

Instead of feeling anger, Emily felt a tinge of pity for Sophia's desperate provocation.

Moreover, she felt grateful for Sophia's move, which added to her evidence.

Emily had already taken screenshots for proof and now sent Sophia a like.

Before leaving work, Sophia, having finished her tasks, finally checked her phone.

Seeing the lone like on her post, her heart rate spiked.

She couldn't understand—was Emily an idiot? How could she be so naive as to like such an obvious post?

Sophia texted Anderson, asking if he would be home for dinner or if he wanted to come to her place.

Anderson declined, saying he had a business dinner and told Sophia to behave.

Reading "Good kids get candy," Sophia realized her impulsiveness and quickly deleted the post.

She hoped Emily hadn't truly noticed.

At the dinner, Anderson was distracted, constantly checking his phone for messages.

He had informed his wife beforehand, and Emily's reply was simply "Okay," asking when he would be home.

Their conversation seemed normal, yet Anderson couldn't shake off a feeling of unease.

It was like being bitten by ants all over—something felt off.

When his client suggested continuing elsewhere, Anderson arranged for a sales manager to accompany them and excused himself.

He hired a driver to take him home, pondering what was wrong the entire ride.

Even as he reached the door, he still couldn't pinpoint it.

"Honey, I'm home—"

His voice caught in his throat as he saw a pair of men's shoes by the entrance.

Frowning, he didn't even change his shoes and walked straight to the living room.

Emily stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows. Hearing him, she turned around, quietly observing the man she had shared her life with.

A handsome stranger rose from the sofa, handing him a business card with a faint smile, "Mr. Anderson, good evening."

Anderson's brows furrowed as he took the card and glanced at it, then looked up at the man, "…A lawyer?"

Turning to his wife, who was approaching him, his tone grew urgent, "Emily, what is this about?"

Emily met Anderson's gaze, her words firm and clear, "Allow me to introduce him, he is Lawyer Wang, representing me in our divorce."

Anderson was stunned, then his eyes widened in disbelief, "Divorce?!"

Emily nodded, "Yes, Anderson, I want a divorce."

At that moment, Anderson realized what had been off.

Since last night, Emily hadn't looked him in the eye.

Even when she smiled sweetly, her eyes had never met his.

Now, their gazes locked.

But in her dark eyes, Anderson found none of the old affection.