My husband was allergic to peaches. He couldn't touch a drink with even a drop of peach juice in it.

Five years of marriage, and I'd been careful about everything he put in his mouth.

Then he landed a ten-million-dollar contract for his company.

At the victory banquet, he drank a glass of peach juice—poured for him by his little childhood friend Deborah—right there in front of everyone.

I wasn't surprised. I just turned and handed him a set of divorce papers.

The employees all piled on, calling me unreasonable.

Thaddeus Harding was so furious he tore the papers to shreds and flung them in my face.

"Debbie was worried I'd feel sick from the drinking, so she poured me some juice to settle my stomach. That's it!"

"And you know what? Without Debbie's help I never would've landed that contract. Know when to stop with the jealousy!"

I lifted a hand, brushed the scraps of paper from my face, and pulled out my phone.

"Cancel the deal."

——

I hung up. The room filled with sneering.

"Ma'am, you been watching too many soap operas? Now you're acting one out for us?"

"If Deborah hadn't brokered the introduction, our company never would've signed that contract with Blue Horizon Group. Read the room before you throw a jealous fit!"

Thaddeus stared at me, his face dark as stone.

"Just because Debbie poured me a glass of juice, you want a divorce? Have you lost your mind?"

"Everything I do is for you. For this family. You can't even appreciate how hard I work, and now you want to divorce me over a glass of juice?"

His little speech had every friend and relative in the room seething on his behalf.

"Thaddeus is famous for how good he is to his wife. All these years, he's been so afraid of making you jealous he won't even hire a woman unless she's married with kids."

"He's wrecked his stomach drinking at business dinners for you, for this family. And instead of showing a shred of sympathy, you're filing for divorce over a glass of juice? You don't know how good you have it!"

In everyone's eyes, Thaddeus had always been the model husband.

Five years of marriage, and he still went along with whatever I wanted.

When I couldn't get pregnant and his family blamed me, he'd step in front of me and tell every last one of them that the problem was his, not mine.

And yet this good husband had turned me into a fool.

His assistant Deborah walked over looking wounded and took my hand.

"Maud, I've been married with a kid for ages. Why are you still jealous of me?"

"I was just worried Thaddeus's stomach would act up from all the drinking, so I poured him some juice. If it bothers you, I won't do it again. That's all."

Deborah and Thaddeus had grown up together. They'd always called each other brother and sister.

When he and I first got together, their closeness bothered me.

But then Deborah rushed into marriage and had a baby, and I let my guard down.

I shook her hand off. My expression didn't change.

"Once we're divorced, you can spoon-feed him juice every day for all I care."

Thaddeus's face turned even uglier when he heard that.

"Maud, are you done? All this over a glass of juice?"

"Today is my celebration with Debbie—not some place for a housewife to make a scene!"

My expression stayed the same. My voice was cold.

"I'm not done."

Deborah heard that and stepped closer, deliberately lowering her voice.

"Maud, I know Thaddeus is always busy with work and you're stuck at home by yourself, but no matter how good-looking those boys on the outside are, none of them can compare to him. He started his own company so young, and now he's just signed a ten-million-dollar deal with Blue Horizon Group. His future is limitless."

Deborah said it, then immediately clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Oh no, Maud—did I say something I shouldn't have?"

Then she pulled out her phone, opened her photo album, and held up a picture of me sitting inside a Maybach for the entire room to see.

"Maud, I just happened to see you that day, I swear I wasn't trying to say anything! You're not going to hold it against me, right?"

Her words turned every pair of eyes in the room on me—scrutinizing, contemptuous.

"Wait, Maud's been cheating? No wonder she's throwing a fit over a glass of juice and demanding a divorce. Shameless!"

"I was wondering how she could bear to give up a man like CEO Harding. Turns out she already had someone lined up on the side!"

Thaddeus's face darkened instantly. He jabbed a finger at the man in the photo and rounded on me.

"Who's that pretty boy? Are you divorcing me for him?"

I was done wasting breath on any of them. I sent Thaddeus the divorce appointment I'd already booked.

"Tomorrow morning, ten o'clock. The registration office."

I turned to leave.

Thaddeus rushed forward and blocked my path, his eyes full of earnest sincerity.

"Honey, I know I've been busy with work, I know I neglected you. And I don't blame you!"

"As long as you're willing to cut things off with that man on the side, I guarantee you—I'll pretend none of this ever happened. Just come back to me!"

His words sent a wave of emotion through the room.

"Maud, if you have even a shred of conscience, you should know you're wrong! Don't throw away a family for some random man!"

I shook Thaddeus's hand off without a trace of warmth.

"This divorce is happening."

Something flickered in his eyes. He hadn't expected me to actually mean it.

"Honey, tell me. What do I have to do to make you stay?"

Looking at that false, devoted face, I swallowed down the nausea churning in my stomach, turned around, and poured ten glasses of peach juice.

"You love peach juice so much? Go ahead. Drink every last one."

Thaddeus stared at the row of glasses lined up in front of him, and his expression went cold.

"Maud, you know I'm allergic to peaches. One sip could kill me. You're trying to force me to die!"

I raised an eyebrow and let out a cold laugh.

"Then why did you drink the peach juice Debbie poured for you just now and come out perfectly fine?"

"Or was what you drank not peach juice at all?"

The crowd heard me and turned to Thaddeus, confusion spreading through the room.

"That's right—CEO Harding's peach allergy is supposed to be serious. Last time we went out to eat, the kitchen squeezed a little peach juice into a dish for flavor, and he took one bite and swelled up all over. Nearly died!"

"So how come he drank a whole glass of Debbie's peach juice and nothing happened? I watched him finish the entire thing!"

The murmuring hit a nerve. Thaddeus's face twisted with rage, and he swept the entire row of glasses off the table. They shattered across the floor.

"Maud, when did you become this unreasonable?"

"You want a divorce that badly? I'd love to see how you survive without me!"

Shattered glass and sticky peach juice spread across the floor, and my eyes stung looking at it—because Thaddeus had always been certain that a caged bird he'd fed for five years would never actually dare to fly.

The others piled on, one after another.

"You're a housewife. How are you going to survive once you leave CEO Harding?"

"Exactly! You've been out of the workforce for years. What company is going to hire a woman your age with zero experience?"

Not a word of it reached me. I held my eyes steady on Thaddeus.

"We're done. Courthouse. Tomorrow!"

Thaddeus's face went dark.

"Fine! You want a divorce so badly? Let's see how you survive without me."

"You've lived off me for five years. I'm cutting your cards off right now—fend for yourself."

He pulled out his phone and made a call, freezing every card under my name.

I didn't bother with him. I turned and walked toward the door.

A server stopped me before I could leave.

"Ma'am, you poured ten glasses of juice and haven't settled the bill. Will that be cash or card?"

I looked at the POS machine in her hand and understood instantly.

Thaddeus watched me with a sneer.

"Weren't you just full of fight? Since you're so set on divorcing me, don't think you're spending another cent of my money. You poured the juice yourself, so you pay for it yourself."

He'd frozen my cards. He knew I couldn't pay. This whole thing was about making me bow in front of a room full of people.

Deborah was watching me too, lips curled.

"Maud, this is a five-star hotel. Juice is two hundred and eighty a glass. You poured ten—that's two thousand eight hundred. And you don't have a single cent on you, do you?"

"Looks like you'll have to wash dishes in the kitchen to pay it off!"

My nails dug into my palms hard enough to break skin.

"Two-eighty a glass still beats whatever you give away for free."

Something shifted behind Deborah's eyes, and her expression went cold.

"Maud, you'd better get on your knees and apologize to Thaddeus right now. You think a man like him grows on trees? Walk away and no one else is picking you up."

I let out a cold laugh.

"You like garbage. I don't."

Thaddeus's expression hardened the second the words left my mouth. He turned to the server.

"Take her to wash dishes."

"Maud, I'll be waiting for the day you regret this."

I looked at him and smiled.

"Then you won't be waiting. You'll never see that day."

Because the one who should regret it was him.

My hands were nearly raw by the time I came out of the kitchen, fingers swollen and stinging, and my legs barely held as I stumbled through the hotel lobby toward the exit—but Thaddeus's driver was already walking over.

He looked at me with open amusement.

"Maud, CEO Harding says that since you two are getting divorced, everything you're wearing was bought with his money. He'd like you to take it off and return it."

I stared at the driver, teeth clenched so hard my jaw ached.

Thaddeus knew perfectly well all I had on was a black evening gown. He was telling me to strip in public.

He wanted to break me.

When I didn't move, the driver's smirk widened.

"A housewife who lives off her husband, and you're dumb enough to throw your marriage away over a glass of juice. Starting to see how hard life gets without a man to take care of you?"

I ignored every word. I clenched my teeth, reached behind me, and pulled the zipper.

The driver had his phone out before the dress loosened. He opened a livestream and pointed the camera straight at me.

"Come watch, everyone! This woman wanted to divorce her husband because he drank a glass of juice. Unbelievable!"

The viewer count spiked. Comments flooded in, every one of them mocking me.

"Divorcing over a glass of juice? That's got to be a first in human history."

"Thinks she's a princess. Thinks the whole world should cater to her. Guess her husband stopped playing along."

"Stripping in public? How is that any different from a stripper?"

I clenched my teeth and peeled the dress off, inch by inch.