He let out a cold laugh. "Divorce? You sure know how to joke."
"Isn't it what you want, to make Grace the real Mrs. Prescott?"
He suddenly chuckled softly, not saying anything more.
After marrying him, his love for me was unreserved, while I had no skills to offer except cooking.
I'd been cooking since childhood, honing my culinary skills.
Even with my disabled legs, I insisted on cooking for him.
I would give him all the love I could muster.
When he had the flu and a fever, I'd wheel myself around to take care of him.
No matter how late he worked, I'd wait for him to come home and sleep together.
He asked me, "Vivienne, you're so good to me. Would you ever divorce me?"
I shook my head.
He asked again, "What if one day you absolutely have to ask me for a divorce?"
"Then I must be joking. I'll never leave you in this lifetime."
Perhaps because he was so certain I wouldn't leave him, he treated it like a joke and didn't care.