The dress was clearly Yvonne's style. I even saw her post about liking it on her Instagram earlier.

"Faith, I thought you weren't mad. Then what's with the attitude now?"

Hearing Taylor's accusation, I felt extremely exhausted. I didn't even want to explain anymore that I truly wasn't upset at him. So, I silently accepted the dress and hung it in the closet.

As I lay on the bed and slowly drifted to sleep, a warm body pressed up against my back.

Taylor wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my neck. After a few kisses, he turned me to face him. Just as he was about to kiss my lips, I instinctively turned away and pushed him back.

He sat up angrily, turning on the bedside lamp to look at me.

"Faith, are you done?"

I used to love being intimate with Taylor, but he never liked it. Every time he touched me, it was only because he couldn't stand my pestering any longer.

I turned my back to him and said, "I'm really tired today. I'm going to sleep."

Taylor went quiet for a while. He used to say that to me, and now, I was using the same line.

The light stayed on for a long time. Taylor stood by the window and smoked for quite some time before going to sleep in the guest room.

That night, I slept better than I had in a long time.

I felt great the next day, and my work efficiency was through the roof.

A colleague even teasingly asked if something wonderful had happened to make me so energetic. I just smiled and said nothing. After all, getting a divorce wasn't exactly a wonderful thing.

Then, I suddenly remembered she knew an excellent divorce lawyer. With a smile, I said sincerely, "Can you give me the contact information of that divorce lawyer you mentioned previously?"

My colleague didn't think much of it. Everyone knew how much I loved Taylor, hence it was rather unimaginable that I was ever going to divorce him.

Because of that night, Taylor and I didn't speak for a whole week.

We'd never gone that long without talking since we got married. I used to love him so much that whenever we argued, I'd be the first to make up after only one day of cold war.

Right before I got off work one evening, Taylor messaged me.

"Percy's having a birthday party for her girlfriend. Wait for me at the entrance. We'll go together."

I didn't reply, and he didn't seem to care.

After work, his car pulled up in front of me. Yvonne was in the passenger seat as usual.

Taylor looked a bit flustered—maybe he was finally starting to sense something was wrong.

Meanwhile, I was unfazed as I got into the back seat. That was when I noticed that it was filled with shopping bags, and nearly all of them were Yvonne's.

The front seat had also been decorated in soft pinks, with a sign that read: "Yvonne's Spot."

I lowered my gaze and made idle chat with Willa on my phone, thinking about where we could go after the party. Engrossed, I completely ignored the complicated look Taylor was giving me.

The moment we arrived at the party, Percy Thompson and his girlfriend Beatrice Miller came to greet us.

"Faith, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked Taylor to go hiking that day. I forgot you injured your ankle."

Percy might have forgotten, but perhaps Taylor had never mentioned it to begin with. It was very likely he'd even forgotten about it himself.

Nonetheless, I didn't care about the reason.

I accepted Percy's apology. It was due to this incident that Taylor had assumed I was mad at him and gave me the cold shoulder for a whole week.

But I really wasn't angry.

"It's fine. As long as everyone had fun," I replied in a calm tone devoid of any pretense.

Percy, however, looked a little puzzled as I'd never been this gracious before.

Taylor never liked bringing me around his friends, and Percy had even helped cover for him when he hung out with Yvonne.

Each time I found out, I'd cause a scene right in front of everyone, making things awkward and leaving Taylor even more annoyed with me.

Beatrice sensed the tension and hurriedly linked her arm through mine to lead me to the table. I followed her and handed her the gift I'd prepared.

She hadn't done anything wrong to me, and I couldn't ruin her birthday.

During dinner, I noticed all the dishes were spicy. I forced down a few bites, even though they upset my stomach. When the discomfort grew worse, I got up and went to the restroom.

Taylor glanced at me but quickly looked away.

By the time I returned, I overheard him questioning Percy.

"I told you Yvonne can't have seafood. Why'd you order seafood chowder?"

Percy said nothing. Beatrice responded instead, "I ordered it for Faith. She can't eat spicy food. How was I supposed to know Yvonne would have it for herself?"

There was a hint of frustration in her voice.

It reminded me of the first time I had dinner with this group.

At that time, I'd told Taylor many times I couldn't eat spicy food, but his friends hadn't believed me. They ordered only spicy dishes and pressured me to eat.

I had looked to Taylor for help, but he hadn't reacted at all. Worse still, he had told me, "Faith, they're my friends. Don't ruin the mood."

After that meal, my stomach condition flared up so badly that I ended up hospitalized for a week. Instead of comforting me, Taylor had blamed me for insisting on attending the dinner in the first place.

I entered the room and saw the seafood chowder in front of Yvonne, while Taylor looked visibly displeased. I apologized to Beatrice, picked up my handbag, and left right away.

When I got home, I was surprised to see Taylor had come back too.

I stared at him in disbelief. It was the first time he'd ever left Yvonne to come after me.

He looked furious as he reprimanded, "Faith, what's wrong with you? It's Percy's girlfriend's birthday, and you stormed off without a word. Who do you think you are, making everyone uncomfortable?"

I looked at him, my gaze filled with mixed emotions.

To Taylor, my feelings—my happiness, sadness, anger—were always supposed to take a back seat to everyone else. He had never truly cared about me.

Seeing that I was not responding, Taylor raised his hand as if he was about to hit me. But instead, he knocked over a vase on the table.

The shards were scattered across the floor, some cutting into my leg and making me flinch.

"Fine, if this is how you want to be. If you think I can't do anything about you, let's get a divorce!"

He had brought up divorce many times before.

Be it because I'd peeked at his phone, anytime I got upset over Yvonne, or if I did something that didn't please him, he would threaten me with divorce.

And every time, I'd immediately apologize with tears. I would completely strip myself of dignity just to beg him not to leave me.

But now, looking into Taylor's increasingly unfamiliar eyes, I smiled and said, "Okay. Let's get a divorce."