"Stop being unreasonable."

"This is the last year, Jay."

Jay froze for a second. He clearly did not understand what I meant. I turned and walked into the bedroom.

The bed was a mess, and their clothes were scattered across the floor.

I should have moved out of that room a long time ago, but Jay would not allow it.

He wanted me to clean up the mess he made with other women, as if it was his way of punishing me.

I wondered what I did to deserve such humiliation.

What I did was merely love someone I should not have. I clung to a marriage that was never meant to last.

The pain had lasted so long that it turned into numbness.

All I wanted was the agreement to end in a week. After that, I would finally be free.

I opened the closet to start packing my things. I pulled out the wedding dress that had been hanging in the corner for years.

It was not really a wedding dress. Just a simple white fitted gown.

We got married in a rush. After getting the marriage certificate, Jay brought me—still wearing that dress—to have dinner with his parents.

That was our wedding.

He casually picked out the dress from a luxury store, and I had kept it for six years.

Jay followed me into the room and asked, "What do you mean, Rachel? Say it clearly."

He saw me staring at the dress, deep in thought, and suddenly remembered its meaning.

He cleared his throat. "Forget it. Ivy wants to go shopping. Take her."

I refused him right away. "I don't have time. Let the driver take her."

Jay grabbed my arm and pulled me around roughly.

He then lowered his voice and threatened, "Rachel, I paid for everything. You'll do as I say."

His grip hurt.

I yanked my arm away and replied, "I can work. I can take care of myself."

Jay's anger turned into a mocking laugh. "You've been a housewife for six years. What kind of job can you land? I'll freeze your card if you refuse."

I inspected the red marks on my arm as he left.

I walked out of the room. Ivy stood at the door like she owned the place, kissing Jay goodbye.

His hands roamed all over her, making her giggle.

"I thought you were running late. You need to go," she teased.

Jay smiled and kissed her forehead, but when he glanced at me before walking out, his eyes were cold and sharp.

That look warned me to stay in line.

I shivered. I remembered how he used to punish me when I disobeyed, but I was ready.

That would be Jay's last chance to threaten me.

After he left, Ivy walked over with the car keys in her hand and said with a mocking smile, "Mr. Dawson is really clingy, isn't he? Do you agree, sweetheart?"

Ivy raised an eyebrow.

I snatched the keys from her and walked to the garage without a word.

Ivy followed behind me, calm and carefree, then sat in the back seat like I was her personal driver.

When we neared the mall, she leaned forward suddenly and asked, "Why are we on this road? I told you I wanted to go to M Mall."

Then, she let out a mocking laugh.

"Don't tell me you're taking me to some cheap place. What, do you really think you're Mr. Dawson's wife? Are you jealous that I'm spending his money? That's hilarious. You don't really think getting married means his money became yours too, do you?"

Ivy kept yapping in my ear. Her reason for staying with Jay was obvious.

I ignored her and kept driving, which seemed to annoy her even more.

She reached for the wheel all of a sudden and yelled, "Take me to M Mall! Do you think you're better than me?"

"What are you doing? Are you trying to kill us both?"

We almost crashed into another car because she grabbed the steering wheel.

Ivy did not care. She tried to grab it again, but I was not fast enough to stop her.

The car swerved wildly on the road. Suddenly, a large truck appeared from the opposite direction.

The truck had just turned the corner when our car slammed into it with a loud bang.

The impact knocked me out. In the haze, I heard Jay's worried voice.

"Are you okay, Ivy?" he asked anxiously.

Ivy cried, "It was all Rachel's fault! She wasn't driving properly."

I was sent to the hospital right away. When they wheeled me into surgery, I was the only one there.

I signed the surgical consent form myself.

Luckily, my injuries were not too serious, so I could still take care of myself. If I had been in worse shape, the hospital would have had to call my family.

I laughed bitterly in my mind. Jay would never come to take care of me.

The nurses whispered among themselves, saying that a rich, handsome CEO had brought in a top surgeon just to treat his wife's little wound.

"He's so good to his wife," one of them said.

"She must be so happy being married to a man like that."

I laid back on the hospital bed and pulled the blanket over myself. I finally had my first good sleep in a week.

During the days I stayed in the hospital, Jay never visited me.

He did call once, just to accuse me of attempted murder.

His voice exploded through the phone, filled with rage.

"You're insane, Rachel! You could've killed someone! Ivy almost died because of you. Stay in the hospital and reflect on what you did. If you pull something like that again, I won't hesitate to send you to a psych ward!"

Ivy must have twisted the whole story and played the victim perfectly in front of him, but I did not care anymore.

She used Jay's social media to post her own photos and updates—candlelight dinners, luxury vacations and business banquets. She said it was compensation by Jay for her injuries.

Ivy was trying to make me jealous, but it did not work. I was not bothered anymore.

I had something more important than a man—my career.

Back then, I had poured all my energy into making Jay love me. Maybe I had won a little affection from him for a while.

However, Jay was a playboy. It did not take long for him to leave me behind.

I gave up my profession because of him. Luckily, my college friend, Leeya Chester, had always kept in touch.

With her help, I tried to launch a few original product designs in the industry. The feedback was pretty good.

Leeya had invited me to work with her years ago, but I was demotivated by Jay back then.

I finally had the courage to start again.

During my hospital stay, Leeya visited me every day. She always came full of energy, cheering me on.

"Don't worry, Rachel. Whatever product we design together, we'll crush it. Mark my words. In five, no, three years, you'll be one of the top designers out there."

I sent her the product ideas I had in mind and some early sketches. She looked through them, her eyes lighting up again and again.

"You doing housework all these years is such a waste of talent. Jay has no idea what he threw away."

I smiled. That marriage had cost me a lot, but I had to admit that Jay kept his promise.

I replied, "Anyway, I don't regret it. Grandma wouldn't have survived if it wasn't for him. I would've lived in pain for the rest of my life."

There were only two days left until the agreement ended. Soon, I would walk away from all of that.

Jay called me on the day I was discharged. He had just returned from his trip.

"Are you still sick or something? The butler said you haven't come home in a week. Are you running away from home now?"

"There's no clean laundry, and the fridge is empty," Jay said.

I rubbed my forehead and replied, "Can't you ask the housekeeper to take care of that?"

"I want you to do it. We're getting a divorce if you don't come home tonight," Jay ordered.

Jay hung up the call before I could respond.

Across the room, Leeya had just settled my hospital bill. She walked over and wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

"Have you told Jay about the divorce yet?"

"Not yet, but I will soon."

Leeya grinned and pulled me forward. "Well then, you're mine soon. You're not going anywhere!"

I let out a helpless smile and followed her.

That evening, Leeya happily brought me to a bar. We sat in a private booth under the flashing lights, drinking and laughing like we were back in college.

My phone buzzed over and over again—all calls from Jay.

I stopped drinking after we got married because Jay hated the smell of alcohol on a woman.

I drank all I could that night.

It was nearly midnight when I finally returned home—a little tipsy but still clear-headed.

To my surprise, Jay was still awake. He sat on the couch with a stormy face, gripping his phone tightly.

He started to interrogate me the moment I stepped inside.

"Why did you come back this late?"

I sat on the small bench by the entryway and slowly changed into house slippers.

"No reason," I replied casually.

Jay stood up and stormed over.

He smelled the alcohol on me and frowned. "Were you out drinking? Are you drunk?"

I was not drunk. I just no longer felt like pretending to be the perfect wife in front of him.

"Why can't I? Ivy drinks all the time, doesn't she?"

Jay furrowed his brows even more. "Why are you comparing yourself to her? You're my wife. You're supposed to listen to me."

I let out a quiet laugh and walked past him to the bathroom.

At the beginning of the year, I had hired a lawyer and drafted the divorce agreement. I chose to leave everything behind just to make a clean break from him.

I had my own career. Jay's threats meant nothing to me.

After showering, I saw a new video message from Ivy.

She pointed the camera at a standee. It was a photo of her and Jay dressed in wedding attire with the words 'Welcome to Jay and Ivy's wedding!' at the bottom.

She then turned the camera to her own face and said sweetly, "I heard you never got a real wedding when you got married, right? Tomorrow's our wedding ceremony. Jay didn't want you there, but I wanted to invite you personally."

I stared at the glamorous wedding dress on the standee and let out a bitter laugh. I had long stopped wanting that kind of wedding.

I looked at the suitcase I packed. After all those years, every single item I owned had been bought with Jay's money.

When I left, my entire life fit into one small suitcase.

The next morning, I got up early and made Jay his favorite breakfast.

He sat at the table, clearly pleased by my sudden obedience. However, he was confused as to why I only set down one set of utensils.

"What's wrong? Why aren't you eating?"

"I'm not hungry," I replied casually.

That was the last breakfast I would ever make for Jay.

As he picked up his keys and headed out, he paused and glanced back at me.

I did not say a word.

After he left, I placed the signed divorce agreement on his desk.

I grabbed my suitcase, walked to the front door, and took one last look around the house that had once been my cage.

I was never coming back.