On the one thousand and ninety-fourth day of being Mrs. Harris, I asked James Harris for a divorce.

His face showed a hint of confusion, but it quickly shifted to his usual, composed expression.

"As you wish," he said, his tone as flat as if we were discussing whether to replace the milk on the breakfast table.

He did not even bother to ask why.

On the one thousand and ninety-fifth day, I gently saw him and the children off, acting as if nothing had happened, and then completely left the Harris family behind.

In the beginning, James Harris and the rest of the Harris family thought I was just in a mood, but it did not take long for them to sense that something was off.

Calvin Harris, the youngest son of the family, was the first to make a scene. He was initially thrilled when his micromanaging mother took off.

However, his joy turned to dismay at the school carnival when his father forgot to tell the babysitter to bake cookies, and he ended up with generic cookies instead of the homemade bear-shaped ones his mother used to bake.

Surrounded by classmates who craved his mother's famous treats, Calvin had a sudden epiphany: maybe his mother was not so bad after all.

Then there was Chester Harris who despised the scheming woman who had taken his mother's place. However, during a thunderstorm, as he pressed against the door, the absence of his mother's soothing hum from the other side sent him into a tailspin.

Mandy York came next, her blood pressure spiking again, then needing meds to keep it in check. It hit her like a ton of bricks—she had not had one of Emma Carter's nutritious meals in weeks.

Even Julia Harris, the husband's younger sister, started dropping hints to James, trying to figure out when they would bring me back home.

The Harrises pestered James about me, and some even nudged him, saying a true gentleman knew when to give in a little and sweet-talk his wife—it would not cost him his pride.

Mandy could not hold back any longer. At the breakfast table, she laid it all out for her son James.

"James, I get it, you're a man, and you've got your pride, but you and your wife shouldn't be so distant. If you're too embarrassed to ask Emma to come back, then let me do it. I'm just an old lady, after all."

James, who already had a reputation for being standoffish, seemed to turn even icier.

Everyone thought he was too arrogant to make the first move, but the truth was, he had tried to call the day after I left.

However, I had blocked him.

That number he never bothered to ring up in a decade was suddenly out of reach when he finally worked up the courage to dial it. The thought made his scowl deepen.

He glanced at his two sons, who were silent but watching him with hopeful eyes, and felt a wave of helplessness wash over him.

"Mom, stop worrying about me and Emma."

"How can we not worry? You've got kids together. She can't just shirk her responsibilities like that."

It was the first time he found his mother's nagging so unnerving.

"If you think you can find her, then be my guest!" he snapped, storming off.

It hit him at that moment just how much Emma's absence was getting to him.

The three left at the table exchanged bewildered looks. Mandy was the first to act, pulling out her phone. "I'm going to ask her straight up if she even wants this family anymore."

However, all she got was the impersonal voice of an automated message.

"The number you have dialed is not in the service area."

The boys could not just sit there either. They both tried the number, but it was the same dead end.

Chester was the first to break the silence. "She always picks up our calls. Do you think something's gone wrong?"

James froze, his hand on the doorknob as a reel of crime scenes spun through his thoughts.

A wave of panic crashed over him.

"Alex, my wife's gone missing. I need you to call the cops."

"Hold on, let's quietly contact some investigators first. I'll give you the details in a bit."

James massaged his forehead, struggling to keep his composure.

I had made my new home in a quaint southern town, taking up residence in a cozy little courtyard.

I was sprawled on a wicker chair, soaking up the rare shade on a balmy summer afternoon.

The town was a slice of heaven, picture-perfect all year round. I was toying with the idea of opening a flower shop.

I never used to care for the frilly stuff like flowers, but three years as Mrs. Harris had somehow coaxed out a fondness for their charm.

James tracked me down on the third evening. His usually spot-on style was off, a button dangled by a thread on his cuff.

He caught my glance and fixed his eyes on the loose button, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his stern features.

"Why won't you come home?" he demanded icily.

I stared back, surprised. "Mr. Harris, considering I'm about to be your ex, I don't see why I should be at your place."

Oddly enough, it was the first time I ever saw a spark of anger in James's eyes.

"Is our marriage, our family, just a game to you?"

I could not hide my annoyance at his attitude, my face a mask of impatience. "On day one thousand ninety-four, I asked for a divorce, remember? You said yes."

James was a terrible debater, always missing the point.

"Wait, did you say day one thousand ninety-four?"

He looked puzzled.

I knew I had slipped up.

I was scared of the Harris family pinning the blame on me, and I was ready to spill the truth, but I tried to play it off. "Mr. Harris, we can head to the County Clerk's Office whenever you're free."

He scrunched his brows, taking a while before he replied, "It's been tough on everyone with you gone."

I just smirked. "They'll adjust."

James let out a weary sigh. "Mom's blood pressure is up, the doctor is pushing meds, and Chester's grades are tanking. His teacher says he's snoozing in class—"

I cut him off. "Mr. Harris, they're your mom and your kid, not my problem."

He looked taken aback, his good-looking brows knitting tighter. "Emma, we need to talk. If there's been a mix-up, let's clear the air, sooner rather than later."

A mischievous idea came to mind, and with a smirk that was pure James, I shot back, "James, I don't owe you an explanation for every choice I make. Some things, you just wouldn't get, even if I spelled them out for you. I asked, you said yes. We're both getting what we want. Isn't that a win-win?"

His face twisted with emotion, and I had to wonder: After three years as his wife, why was I only then seeing the full range of his expressions?

"And what about Calvin, your flesh and blood? You're just going to abandon him?"

The mention of Calvin sent a pang through me, a reminder of Emma's final, fretful days over the boy she could not bear to leave behind. It was a cruel truth that those closest to us could cut the deepest.

Calvin, all of four or five, piped up in his squeaky, childlike voice, airing his grievances for all to hear.

"Daddy, I don't want that mean lady to be my mom. I want to be Ms. Scott's kid, just like my brother."

He blurted that out with the whole Harris family watching.

Chester shot Emma a challenging look.

James looked like he was about to lay into the kid, but Mandy and Julia cut him off, chiding, "Kids say the darndest things. You can't take it to heart."

However, at that moment, I could not help but think—'Sure, you can brush off a kid's words, but what about the grown-ups who put those words in their mouths?'

Emma kept her silence as she helped Calvin into his jacket and meticulously packed up the presents for the Scotts. With the last bow tied and the final goodbyes said, she joined the servants at the door, waving off the family as they headed to James's ex-wife's place for Chester's birthday bash.

However, as Emma turned to go back inside, I caught a glimpse of the tears she fought back, her eyes a telltale red.

That memory sent a chill through me.

"The divorce papers were crystal clear—I want nothing from the Harris fortune. Not the cash, not the houses, not the people."

"You..."

James was floored by my outburst, stumbling over his words before he managed to say, "Emma, what's going on? We're family. We need to talk about whatever's happening to fix it together."

"Family?" I rolled the word around like it was a joke. He hardly ever included me in that circle, despite parading me around as Mrs. Harris. Frankly, I was always more of an outsider, a glorified butler at best.

Mandy, Chester, Calvin, Julia, even his ex-wife—they all made the cut. Me? I was never part of that picture.

"Mr. Harris, did you ever see me as family?" I asked, sporting a smirk of irony. "If I remember correctly, every member of the Harris family is supposed to get at least a three-percent stake in Harris Group.

"Your ex Ms. Scott and your brother-in-law Mr. Clark have their shares, don't they? So, tell me, as your current wife, where are my Harris Group shares?"

James's hand curled into a fist without realizing it, a telltale sign he was feeling the heat.

"Emma, you're not like them, you don't get the ins and outs of the company."

"Oh, really? So, to wield the Harris family shares, I'd have to strut into the boardroom and start calling the shots? Or maybe I need to be a hotshot CEO first?"

He was caught off guard by my comeback, his face flashing a moment of awkwardness.

"Emma, I had no idea this mattered to you. We can discuss your shares with the others once we're home."

I laughed derisively. "Save it, Mr. Harris. You're missing the point yet again. This isn't about bargaining with you, it's about me saying I'm done playing Mrs. Harris.

"I want nothing from you, just a divorce. Please, take your precious family and get out of my life!"

James's face turned a shade of deep red, probably not used to being rejected so bluntly after years at the top.

He spun on his heel and stormed off, but not before throwing one last line over his shoulder.

"Tomorrow morning, ten o'clock, the County Clerk's Office. Be there."

When James walked through the door, his mood was so heavy he could not even talk. All he wanted was to vanish into his study.

However, Calvin, still too young to read the room, asked with wide-eyed innocence. "Dad, can you get Mom to come back? I miss her taking me to school and reading picture books with me."

His older brother chimed in, concern etched on his face, "Dad, she's okay, right?"

James glanced at his three kids, who should have been asleep at this hour. They were up, waiting for him because of her, and it just made him feel worse.

In his head, he thought, 'You're all so eager for her to return, but to her, you're just a nuisance.'

He opened his mouth, at a loss for words on how to break the news that he was getting divorced, that she would not be coming back.

"She's fine. Opened up a flower shop down south," he managed to say, dodging the real issue.

"Well let's go get her then, Dad," said Calvin with the hopeful simplicity only a child could have.

Feeling a wave of helplessness and recalling her distant attitude, he steeled himself and said, "She's not coming back. We're going to the County Clerk's Office tomorrow to make it official."

"What?" It was Mandy's turn to be shocked. "Why would you do that? Everything is fine. Why get a divorce?"

"Mom," he said softly, "don't worry about it."

However, recalling her disdain for them, he could not help adding, "Besides, she never really was a true Mrs. Harris. It's better she's decided to leave us alone."