chapter 4: My wife's Tragic Terminal Illness(that she totally made up)

Verbena lay sprawled across her bed, dramatically tossing a silk handkerchief onto the floor.

"It's time for my next masterpiece."

If pretending to have an imaginary lover didn't work, then surely a fatal illness would. No sane man wants to stay married to a doomed wife, right? He'd sign the divorce papers out of pity, and she'd be free to frolic in her second life like a happy widow.

Perfect plan. Absolutely flawless.

Except for the minor detail that Verbena had the strength of a cow that just ate ten apples and took a nap.

But facts never stopped a determined idiot.

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That evening, she sat in the grand dining hall again, this time with the aura of a woman one step away from the afterlife.

She coughed delicately into her hand.

Theodore raised an eyebrow. "What is wrong with you now?"

She coughed harder. "Cough cough. Oh, husband… I didn't want to tell you but…"

"...But?"

Verbena lowered her gaze, letting a single tear slide down her cheek for dramatic effect. "I am suffering from a rare, mysterious, incurable disease."

Theodore blinked. "What disease?"

"...The withering wife syndrome."

Silence.

Theodore set down his fork. "The what?"

"It's very tragic." She sniffed. "Once a woman marries a villain, her delicate body begins to break down under the weight of marital misery."

Theodore leaned back, arms crossed, pure skeptic mode activated. "And which physician diagnosed you with this groundbreaking illness?"

She blinked innocently. "Doctor… Peony."

"There is no Doctor Peony in the empire."

"Oh, because he's a traveling hermit doctor who only appears when the moon is shaped like a croissant."

Theodore pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're telling me you're dying from… marital misery?"

She nodded vigorously. "My pulse is weak, my energy is fading, and my lifespan has been reduced to—" she held up three fingers— "just three months."

Theodore stood. "Let's test that."

Before she could run, he lifted her off the chair bridal style, one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back.

"KYAAA!! What are you doing?!"

"You said your energy is fading." His smirk returned. "Let's see if you can survive…a light jog."

"A JOG?!"

The man—who she was trying so hard to divorce—sprinted down the hallway with her in his arms, laughing while she screamed like a dying chicken.

"Put me down! I'm delicate!"

"You're screaming loud enough to wake the ancestors, you're fine."

By the time they reached the garden, she was wheezing—not from actual illness, but from sheer rage and humiliation.

"You…you brute!" she coughed. "How dare you…treat a dying woman like this!"

Theodore leaned down, lips dangerously close to her ear. "If you wanted attention, wife, you could've just said so."

Her heart did a ridiculous flip. "I-I don't want attention! I want freedom!"

"Freedom to lie? Freedom to fake lovers and diseases?"

"YES!"

Theodore set her down gently on a bench. For a moment, he was silent, looking at her with something she couldn't quite place—a mix of amusement, frustration, and something warmer that made her want to run away or slap herself.

"I married a lunatic," he finally sighed.

"And I married a final boss."

They glared at each other.

Then, unexpectedly—he smiled.

It wasn't his usual smirk or mocking grin. It was small, fleeting, but strangely soft.

"Don't die on me yet, Verbena."

Her face turned red. "I-I'm not actually dying!"

"Exactly."

Her brain short-circuited as he stood, leaving her there, flustered and furious.

She kicked a pebble.

"Stupid villain husband."

Her next plan had to be better. It had to work.

She just needed to stop her heart from doing those weird flips whenever he got too close.

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End of chapter 4

WARNING

This is the original version of the webnovel "villain husband, please sign the divorce papers" by the author "Hanagaki Ryuka". Please don't copyright or upload it in your name

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1O1cON4UEjsjFPMZxqNSY425-fdHW19779uAKscbDsy8/edit?usp=drivesdk