Hearing Monique's rejection, Connor clenched his fists, looking hurt.

"I know you might blame me, but I had my reasons back then. You promised to wait for me, but then you married Scott so quickly."

I wanted to punch him in the face. Connor loved playing the gentle, wounded victim, twisting the truth with that silver tongue of his.

But Monique's tense expression softened, and she gently embraced Connor.

"Don't worry. I won't believe them. I'll divorce Scott as soon as possible."

"You've had a lot to drink tonight. Let me stay and take care of you."

"No!" The resistance in Monique's voice was obvious, shocking both Connor and me.

But then again, she never liked bringing people home. I'd always strictly followed that rule.

Connor's face twisted for a moment before he got into a cab through gritted teeth. "You just can't let go of your husband! I'm not some backup plan!"

For once, Monique didn't chase after him to smooth things over. Once inside, she didn't turn on the lights. Half-conscious, she mumbled, "Honey, get me a Gatorade."

Her tone was relaxed, disturbingly natural. I wasn't surprised. After five years of marriage, she'd grown too accustomed to my care.

Instead, Monique fell silent for a long time, then slapped herself hard across the face, as if trying to wake herself up. On impulse, she called me again.

The disconnected number tone made her furious. She called Ms. Kinsley instead, going on the offensive before the latter could even speak.

"I need to talk to Scott about the divorce. You'd better hand him over."

It sounded childish and ridiculous, as if I were some rare treasure that needed hiding.

Ms. Kinsley's voice was hoarse. "Monique, Scott really is dead."

Monique trembled, her hand shaking as she held the phone. "No! That's impossible!

"Ms. Kinsley, stop joking around. Scott's still so healthy. How could he be dead?"

"The nurse called you so many times, and you didn't answer. Why didn't you pick up the call ? Scott would never stay away from you this long. Didn't you find that suspicious?" Ms. Kinsley choked up and began sobbing quietly.

Monique's face went blank for a moment, unable to speak. "Ms. Kinsley, where is Scott buried? I need to find him."

She pulled open a drawer to look for her keys but froze when she saw a document. It was the divorce agreement I'd already signed.

She took several deep breaths. Before Ms. Kinsley could give her an address, she sneered coldly. "Ms. Kinsley, I must be crazy to even think about believing you.

"Does Scott think signing a divorce agreement means we're divorced? No! I don't agree!

"Tell him to meet me at the courthouse tomorrow. If he doesn't show up, I'm going to the police to report you all for marriage fraud!

"Ms. Kinsley, you wouldn't want those kids ending up on the streets starving to death, would you?"

Goosebumps rose all over my body. I couldn't help but shout at Monique in rage. "Monique, you've really lost it. I already signed the divorce papers. What more do you want from me?"

Ms. Kinsley's voice turned sharp. "Fine! Fine! Monique, you just wait. Tomorrow, I guarantee you'll see him."

Then, Ms. Kinsley hung up without mercy. Monique smiled like she'd won a victory and went to sleep.

…

The next day, Monique grimaced as she downed some water and painkillers, then dressed up and headed to the courthouse. I was somewhat surprised. She never usually remembered what she said while drinking.

At 10:00 am, Monique finally saw Ms. Kinsley arrive. She stopped pacing and walked over with an elegant stride, smiling.

"I knew you were lying to me…"

Monique's words died abruptly. My eyes widened, too.

Ms. Kinsley had brought an urn with my ashes.