Chapter 9: The Diary of the villain's wife

After narrowly escaping Theodore's grasp (and nearly knocking over a priceless vase in the process), Verbena locked herself in her bedroom, clutching the diary like a treasure map.

"Alright, time to weaponize this thing."

If Theodore wanted to play villain husband, she'd play tragic, heartbroken wife who just regained her "memories" through this diary. If she acted pitiful enough, maybe he'd feel guilty and grant her a merciful divorce.

Step 1: Memorize the cringiest, most dramatic diary entries.

Step 2: Recite them with tears in her eyes and trembling lips.

Step 3: Freedom.

She flipped to a random page and began practicing:

"Dearest Diary,"

"Today, Theodore held my hand for the first time. His palm was cold, but my heart was on fire. Is this… love?"

Verbena gagged. "Who writes like this?!"

She tried another page:

"I wore his favorite color today. He didn't notice, but it's okay. As long as he's happy, that's enough for me."

Verbena wiped imaginary tears from her eyes. "Poor original Verbena… she deserved better."

She rehearsed her lines in front of the mirror, dramatically collapsing on the bed, clutching her chest, whispering, "Why…. Why can't you love me back?"

It was Oscar-worthy.

But just as she was getting into the role, the door burst open—without knocking—because of course her villain husband had no sense of privacy.

Theodore stood there, arms crossed, his expression somewhere between suspicion and exhaustion.

"What are you doing?"

Verbena, still sprawled dramatically on the bed, froze.

Think fast.

"I—I remembered something!" she blurted out.

Theodore raised an eyebrow. "What."

She held up the diary like it was evidence in court. "I found this and suddenly, all these memories came flooding back. I… I remembered how much I loved you!"

Theodore's face went blank.

"…What?"

"I used to watch you from afar, dreaming of the day you'd notice me!" she declared, eyes shimmering with fake tears. "Every word you said, every cruel glance—you don't understand, my heart was yours!"

Theodore stared at her like she had grown a second head.

"You're joking."

"No!" she sniffled dramatically. "I even wore your favorite color every day! See? Today I'm wearing black because… because you like funerals, right?"

Theodore massaged his temples. "Are you possessed?"

"I'm possessed… by love."

There was a silence so awkward, even the wind outside refused to blow.

Theodore finally sighed. "If you're going insane, at least do it quietly."

He turned to leave, but Verbena wasn't done yet.

She ran after him, grabbing his sleeve. "Wait! Please—now that I remember everything, I know I'm not worthy of you! You deserve someone better!"

He froze. "What are you talking about?"

Verbena's hands shook (she was so deep into the act now, even she was starting to believe it). "That's why… I want a divorce! Not because I don't love you, but because I love you too much!"

Theodore slowly turned his head to look at her. His expression was utterly unreadable.

"Let me get this straight," he said, voice dangerously calm. "You want to divorce me… because you love me too much?"

Verbena nodded like a sacrificial lamb.

"Correct."

Theodore took a long breath, like a man praying for patience.

"…I'm going to bed."

And with that, he walked out, leaving Verbena standing there—her entire masterplan collapsing like a sandcastle in the rain

"Wait, come back! I haven't even cried dramatically in the rain yet!"

The only response was the distant sound of the bedroom door slamming shut.

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~~~~~~~~End of Chapter 9~~~~~~~~