ManyWriters

I begged my husband 304 times before he finally agreed to accompany me and take my father on his final journey out to sea.
But as I stood on the shore, my father's temperature slowly ebbed away in his wheelchair.
I never even saw my husband's shadow.
His pure love social media post showed photos of them watching clouds on the prairie.
"Escaping the mundane world, as long as I have you."
My finger slipped and I accidentally liked it. He immediately messaged me demanding:
"How many times have I told you not to bother Estella? If you can't control your hands, let's get divorced!"
I've lost count of how many times he's threatened divorce.
I'm tired of hearing it.
"Fine, let's divorce then."

After Liking My Husband's "pure Love" Social Media Post

Love for fine French cuisine isn't my thing, it's Estella's.


The one who enjoys wandering around, savoring a petit bourgeois lifestyle, that's also Cian.


I've always been just a lowly commoner, unfit for polite society.


A vulgar person putting on airs, desperately climbing the social ladder through Damien, like a bloodsucking parasite.


Though Damien never said it outright, he never once refuted when his friends spoke of me that way.


"I'm usually too busy to pay much attention to you."


"Going to the prairie with Estella was also for inspiration. She's responsible for the company's new quarterly design draft."


"You don't understand these things, and I don't blame you. Just don't make a fuss about it."


He's afraid I might misunderstand Estella even slightly.


In his heart, Estella is forever pure and flawless, like moonlight by the window that can do no wrong.


Even when she once betrayed him, Damien could brainwash himself into believing Estella had her reasons.


Estella could never be the other woman.


Because that would be beneath Estella's status.


I nod perfunctorily, "I see. Aren't you going to the office? Aren't you busy?"


Seeing my reaction, Damien gets a bit angry.


"Scarlett, can't you think about me for once?


"You think I'm killing myself at work to feed your lazy ass?"


"If you'd just pull your weight, I wouldn’t have to be like this."


The divorce lawyer I had contacted earlier sent me a message to arrange a meeting.


"Get back here! How dare you walk away when I'm talking to you? What kind of wife acts like this?"


The irony wasn't lost on me. You'd think the Stratton family was some kind of feudal dynasty with the way he was carrying on.


Damien tried to follow me upstairs, but his feet got tangled in the sea of glass shards he'd created in his earlier tantrum.


For eight long years, he was the one giving me the cold shoulder day in and day out.


I ignored his protests, heading upstairs to change. Without so much as a backward glance at Damien, I walked out the door.


Chapter 4