"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.