"If you two don't get divorced today, I might as well die!" Victor yelled.

Charlotte, who had clearly planned to smooth things over and move on, panicked completely.

She grabbed my wrist in a rush, squeezing so hard that she left a deep red ring around my skin, and said in a frantic voice, "We have to pick up the divorce papers today! Victor will hurt himself if we don't!"

In that instant, I finally understood.

Even if I married Charlotte a hundred times, a thousand times, I would still never matter as much as the guy she grew up with.

-

"Okay, okay, it's done now. Let's go home."

Charlotte pulled Victor into the car.

Out of habit, I reached for the passenger door, but Victor stepped in front of me.

He pouted, visibly unhappy.

"Gregory, you and Charlotte aren't married anymore. Don't you think it's inappropriate for you to ride in her car?"

I instinctively looked at Charlotte. She frowned slightly and reached out to tug Victor back, but he shook her off.

"Charlotte, I'm only telling the truth. You and Gregory already got divorced. What are people supposed to think if they see you two riding around together? And Gregory, you're going to marry someone else eventually. Why can't you keep a little distance from your ex-wife?"

He made it sound so reasonable, every sentence neat and justified.

Charlotte could only look at me, discomfort written across her face.

"Gregory… Do you mind…"

She didn't finish, but I understood what she meant.

I bit the inside of my mouth until the soft flesh tore. When I spoke, I could taste the faint metallic sweetness of blood.

"It's fine. I'll walk back by myself."

The moment I said it, Victor got into the passenger seat with obvious satisfaction.

Before leaving, Charlotte looked at me with guilt and apology, then lowered her voice to comfort me.

"Don't take it personally. Victor's just emotional today, so he's acting out a little. Give me some time to calm him down. Once he's stable, we'll get married again. This time, we won't divorce anymore."

I didn't answer.

At Victor's urging, Charlotte drove away.

I had believed that same promise seven times already.

Every time, I believed her. Every time, I was fooled.

The first divorce happened because Charlotte forgot Victor's birthday.

The second happened because Victor lost his beloved cat.

The third happened because Victor had a nightmare and said he dreamed Charlotte didn't want him anymore after she got married.

And this time, it was because Charlotte had prepared a gift for me and not for him.

Each reason was more ridiculous than the last.

Yet every single time, Charlotte still compromised for him and gave me up for him.

Over the years, I had argued, made scenes, and fought it because I couldn't accept it.

But it always ended the same way.

After she coaxed me into calming down, she went right back to doing whatever she wanted, still bending to Victor's every move.

Now, we had divorced for the eighth time.

And I had finally let go. I gave up.

I had loved her for so many years, but even the hottest love couldn't survive being doused with cold water again and again.

I made my way back to Charlotte's house in a daze.

Before I even opened the door, I heard laughter and playful shouting from inside.

Charlotte's face was covered in flour, and white dust clung all over her clothes.

I vaguely remembered how severe her obsession with cleanliness used to be. Once, I had splashed a single drop of grease onto her while eating, and she had torn into me for it.

But now, for Victor, she could stand there covered in flour without a trace of anger.

When Charlotte saw me come back, she immediately let out a breath of relief. She took the apron off herself and hung it on me, not giving me even a second to rest.

"Gregory, you're finally back. Hurry up and make dinner. Victor and I are both starving."

Victor sprawled arrogantly on the couch and started ordering me around.

"I want beef stew today. Make sure the meat's tender."

I was so angry I actually laughed.

Then I shot back, "If you want it so badly, why don't you make it yourself? With all the time you two spent messing around, you could've cooked a whole meal."

As soon as the words left my mouth, Charlotte shoved me in a burst of fury.

My lower back slammed into the sharp corner of the dining table, and the pain broke me into a cold sweat.

"Gregory, do you even hear yourself right now?" Charlotte hissed. "I only asked you to make dinner. Why are you making such a scene?"

I clenched my teeth against the pain and said nothing.

But in Charlotte's eyes, my silence looked like defiance.

Victor stood off to the side and said in that sour, needling tone, "Charlotte, I think Gregory just can't stand me. Every time you ask him to do something for me, he acts like it's some huge burden. If you married someone like him, won't I end up getting kicked out of your house?"

Charlotte's eyes flashed with anger. She grabbed my hand, dragged me into the kitchen by force, and shoved me hard against the counter.

There was no warmth at all on her cold, expressionless face.

"If you can't make the food Victor wants tonight, then you can stay in this kitchen until morning!"

With a bang, Charlotte slammed the kitchen door shut.

A purple bruise had already formed around my wrist, and when I hit the corner of the stove just now, the skin on my elbow had split open. Blood showed through within seconds.

Before long, Victor's laughter rang out from the other side of the door.

Then Charlotte came back in. When she saw that I still hadn't moved, her brows drew tight.

"Gregory, why do you have to make everything difficult? Victor's my childhood friend. Is cooking him one meal really that hard?"

I straightened slowly, lifted my head, and looked at Charlotte with a faint, mocking smile.

"Did you forget? We're already divorced. I don't have to do anything for you anymore."

Embarrassment flashed through Charlotte's eyes. She cleared her throat, then wrapped her arms around me gently and began soothing me in a soft voice.

"I lost my temper just now, but I already told you. The divorce is only temporary. Once I calm Victor down, we can get married again anytime. Don't get upset over something this small."

As she spoke, she handed me a note covered with dish names.

Her expression turned serious, and there was a warning buried beneath it.

"I'm giving you a chance this time. As long as you make Victor happy and get him to settle down, we can remarry sooner. Be good."

After Charlotte left and closed the kitchen door again, an indescribable sadness settled over me.

Since when had divorce and remarriage become such trivial matters to her?

And now, she wanted me to please Victor?

Sorry, but I couldn't do it.

I would rather sleep in the kitchen than try to win him over.

I crouched down, sat on the floor with my back against the cabinet under the counter, and closed my eyes.

Half-asleep, I suddenly felt a cold shock run over my whole body.

When I opened my eyes, Victor was standing there with a cruel grin, dumping a basin of ice-cold water over me.

"Are you out of your mind?" I yelled at him.

He threw the basin straight at me. The bottom of it struck my forehead hard.

He sneered, "When Charlotte told you to cook, she didn't mean for you to come in here and take a nap. You really think someone like you deserves to marry her? Over my dead body!"

Rage shot through me.

I grabbed the basin he had just thrown and hurled it back at him.

Victor screamed. Even though he dodged the basin itself, the water left inside splashed all over him.

Charlotte heard the commotion and rushed over almost immediately.

When she saw Victor looking so disheveled, she grabbed me by the collar without a word and growled, "Have you lost your mind? How dare you hurt Victor!"

Her grip was brutal, and her face twisted with fury, as if she wanted to tear my collar apart.

My throat tightened as I tried to explain.

"He poured water on me first, and he threw the basin at me…"

But before I could finish, Charlotte's eyes widened, her stare turning violent and cold.

"Then you deserved it! I asked you to make one meal, and you had the nerve to slack off and fight back. Victor was already being considerate by only pouring cold water on you. If it were me, I would've thrown you out."

The last spark inside me finally went out, and I stopped resisting.

I said to Charlotte calmly, "Then throw me out."

Her body trembled slightly. The hand gripping my collar loosened without her realizing it.

When she saw me soaked through, with a red swelling already rising on my forehead, her expression softened.

She pulled me into the bedroom, where there were only the two of us.

Her voice sounded tired and disappointed, and she pressed it low as she struggled to keep her emotions under control.

"No matter what happened, that still doesn't give you a reason to hurt Victor. He's young. Even if he did something wrong, you should've talked to him properly. Besides, I only asked you to make dinner. Look how long it's been, and you haven't made anything. Victor only acted out because he got frustrated."

By the time she finished that sentence, her tone had clearly hardened.

It was as if she had finally found a reason to blame me, and once she had it, she started in on me.

"Gregory, I'm very disappointed in how you acted today. Even if you don't like Victor, you can at least pretend, can't you? If this keeps going and everyone ends up upset, how long do you expect it'll take before Victor agrees to let us get married again?"

I listened quietly, but the sadness in my chest only sank deeper.

Since when did our marriage depend on Victor's approval?

I had to admit, though, that Victor held a place in Charlotte's heart that no one else could touch.

My face stayed calm as I answered flatly, "I'm sorry. I understand."

The moment I apologized, a smile appeared on Charlotte's face again.

She went to the closet, found a few pieces of clothing, and handed them to me.

"I'm glad to hear that. Go out in a minute and apologize to Victor, and we'll let this whole thing slide."

My head snapped up as I looked at her.

A bitter, broken smile tugged at my mouth.

"He started this, and somehow it's all my fault? Now I have to apologize to him?"

Charlotte's face stiffened, and the calm in her voice vanished at once. Her brows drew tight, and her eyes turned painfully cold.

"I'm not discussing this with you. If you still want to live here in peace, then do exactly what I tell you. After you apologize to Victor, make dinner as fast as you can. Otherwise, get out."

With that, Charlotte turned and left the bedroom.

I stood there for a long while, a bitter smile frozen on my face.

Every word Charlotte said had cut straight through me.

But she was right. Every brick, every wall, every inch of this place belonged to Charlotte. What did any of it have to do with me?

When we were married, I could still pretend I had a right to stay here. Now that we weren't even husband and wife, what right did I have left?

If she wanted to kick me out, all it took was one sentence.

I thought back to three years ago, when my mentor, Emma Rivers, introduced us. Charlotte and I met, fell in love, and eventually got married.

Back then, Charlotte's company had just started, and she needed Emma's help. She had promised Emma with complete sincerity that wherever she was, I would always have a home.

But now, I could see that every promise had been a lie.

Feelings change. People change. The only person who wouldn't betray me was myself.

All at once, I regretted marrying Charlotte and choosing to stay home full-time to take care of her.

I had given up my career and abandoned everything I had worked for.

Now, I had become someone anyone could discard and humiliate at will.

After thinking it over, I took out my phone and shamelessly called Emma again.

Once Emma gave me her answer, I started packing my things.

A short while later, a knock sounded from the living room.

"Excuse me. Is Gregory Wells here? I'm looking for him."

When Charlotte saw a strange woman suddenly show up asking for me, her heart lurched, and a bad feeling rose in her chest.

She was just about to speak when I came out of the bedroom, pushing my suitcase behind me.

"Maeve, I'm here."

As I reached the door, Charlotte suddenly clamped a hand around my wrist, fear and panic filling her eyes.