In the studio I was never allowed to enter, my husband kept a sculpture of a half-naked goddess.

Two months after I gave birth, he suddenly developed an obsession with painting statues.

He spent nearly every day—29 out of 30—in that studio. The floor was littered with discarded sketches like fallen leaves, and he never even came out to soothe our crying daughter.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I filed for divorce.

Everyone around me reacted with disbelief.

My father-in-law asked in confusion, “Is this just because Jason’s been painting every day in his studio?”

I corrected him calmly, “He’s not just painting. He’s painting goddess sculptures.”

My mother-in-law exploded. “My son works hard to support this family! Painting is just a harmless hobby after work. If he’s too tired to care for the child, then hire a nanny! Why make a fuss?”

I said nothing, but my decision didn’t change.

Jason Shaw, my husband, stared at me in stunned rage. His face was tight with disbelief. “Nicole Grant, I didn’t cheat, I never even talked to another woman. I just got caught up in painting and forgot to give you attention. Is this really worth a divorce?”

His eyes turned red with grievance.

People called me unreasonable. Controlling. Cold-hearted.

I gave a mocking smile, pointed toward the studio, and said with a blank face:

“You said that sculpture is the only thing that satisfies you now—fine. I’ll help you get what you want.”

——

I slammed the freshly printed divorce papers onto the table.

“Sign it.”

Jason looked at me, stunned, eyes bloodshot.

“Nicole!”

“What’s wrong with you? I’ve just been busy in the studio this month. I admit I’ve been neglectful. That’s on me. But can’t I make it up to you?” he asked, his voice low and strained, frustration barely held back.

“Do you really have to bring up divorce in front of everyone?”

I looked around the room.

Today was our fifth wedding anniversary.

Jason had invited both sides of the family for dinner. It was supposed to be a celebration.

But all evening, his eyes had never once lingered on me.

He even shared our wedding wine with Claire Monroe.

In that moment, I realized there was no point in dragging this out.

“If you’re so worried about making a scene, then just sign the papers quietly.”

I said coldly. I was done explaining.

A heavy silence fell across the room.

The guests exchanged shocked glances.

In the five years we’d been married, everyone thought we were the perfect couple—loving, close, inseparable.

Jason’s face turned pale, his brow deeply furrowed.

“Please,” he said, leaning in, voice hoarse with desperation. “Nicole, let’s talk this out at home. Don’t do this here. You’ll upset Mom and Dad.”

I shook his hand off without hesitation.

“Don’t touch me.”

The others’ faces instantly changed. They stared at me with visible disgust.

My father-in-law slammed his wine glass on the table. My mother-in-law’s face darkened like a storm cloud.

Jason stumbled as I pushed him away, collapsing straight into the arms of Julia Chase—his childhood sweetheart.

“Nicole, are you even human anymore?!”

Julia snapped.

She charged forward, hurling curses at me. “Have you forgotten that when you were pregnant, your belly was covered with stretch marks, and Jason still massaged it with oil every night, no matter how late he got home? He did that for a whole year!”

“Did you forget he once drove five hours just to get you fresh King Lychees during your pregnancy? And now, just because he spends time painting in his studio, do you want to divorce him? How can you be this petty and controlling?!”

“Now that the baby’s been born, isn’t Jason already exhausted from caring for the child? With you—the mother—right there, what’s so wrong with him taking a break? And you’re seriously asking for a divorce over something this trivial? Have you no shame?”

Julia, putting herself on a pedestal of righteousness, immediately painted me as the cold, heartless wife who failed to appreciate her husband.

Her verbal assault was quickly followed by a raised hand, aiming to slap me.

But I sidestepped easily before she could land a blow. I glared at her icily, my voice thick with sarcasm. “So, my husband massages my stretch marks every night? And you know this how? Don’t tell me—you two share everything?”

Julia’s composure faltered, panic flashing across her face. “Isn’t that just common knowledge? Go ahead, ask anyone here—who doesn’t know?”

Around us, the guests nodded awkwardly, aligning with her false sense of certainty.

My father-in-law’s tone turned heavy with criticism. “Nicole, you’re being too impulsive. Everyone saw how well Jason cared for you during your pregnancy. He’s only human, not a machine. He needs rest, too. After childbirth, this is when a marriage is truly tested. You shouldn’t abandon him now.”

My mother-in-law’s eyes narrowed as her lips curled into a scornful sneer. “I knew it—you never looked like someone with a good heart. And now you want to leave my son? There must be another man. Go on—who is he? Did he pressure you to divorce Jason?”

She hiked up her sleeves, ready for a fight, then turned to her son and patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry, son. I’ll find that homewrecker and teach him a lesson. I’ll bring your wife and child back no matter what.”

I chuckled coldly, lips curled into a mocking smile.

“The problem was never with me.”

“No matter what any of you say, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing him—today.”

Jason’s eyes were swollen and red. He took a long breath, stepped forward, and gently held my hand.

“Wife, what’s wrong? Talk to me. You weren’t like this before. Did you forget our wedding vows? That we’d walk through joy and sorrow, sickness and health, life and death—together?”

Looking at the so-called affection written all over his face, my stomach turned.

“Enough. Spare me the performance.”

“Get away from me!”

I shoved him with disgust, and he stumbled back, hitting the ground hard. His elbow slammed onto the floor with a sickening thud, and he winced.

“Nicole,” he shouted, voice filled with frustration. “I’ve tolerated your behavior for far too long!”

Julia stepped forward, seething, eyes filled with jealousy and rage. She pointed at me and screamed, “If you dare divorce Jason today, I swear I’ll beat you to a pulp!”

“I’d rather see him widowed than divorced and shamed by everyone!”

Mad with fury, Julia lunged at me and tackled me to the floor, snarling that she’d kill me with her bare hands.

I smirked beneath her.

“What gives you the right to interfere in our marriage? Who asked for your opinion?”

“We’re childhood sweethearts!” she yelled bitterly. “I’m like his sister!”

I laughed scornfully. “Sister? The kind who shares his bed?”

“Bullshit!”

“You filthy woman. You think everyone else is as shameless as you.”

As she froze in shock, I took the chance to strike. My fist connected with her jaw—precise, powerful, and merciless.

Julia had some Taekwondo background, but it was mostly show. She didn’t know I’d trained too.

Jason cried out in panic from the sidelines.

“Nicole, stop!”

“Don’t hurt Julia—please!”

My grip tightened around Julia’s neck. Her limbs flailed, her face turning sickly purple as her breath caught in her throat.

In a frantic panic, Jason grabbed the closest object—a blue and white porcelain vase—and with a shout, smashed it against my head.

Screams erupted across the room.

Panic spread like wildfire.

"Ah! There’s so much blood!"

"Someone called an ambulance!"

Warm liquid streamed from the corner of my forehead, soaking into my lashes, clouding my vision with a hazy red. Around me, the noise turned chaotic, voices echoing as if underwater.

Then I heard Jason's voice—shaking, panicked.

“Honey, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to…”

“I just… I was afraid you’d lose control and actually kill someone…”

“I already called the emergency. Help is coming!”

The last expression I remember before losing consciousness must have been a bitter, ironic smile.

See? That’s my loving husband.

To protect his precious childhood sweetheart, he smashed a vase over my head with full force.

When I regained consciousness, I was in a hospital room, the pain in my skull screaming as if a hammer were pounding inside.

“Nicole, don’t move.”

“You needed more than a dozen stitches on your scalp…”

I shut my eyes and forced a faint, pained smile.

“Did you sign the divorce papers?”

“Once I’m discharged, let’s go to the Office of Civil Registry and get it done.”

Jason’s sobs cut off abruptly.

“Why are you still clinging to this divorce?”

He looked at me as if I had stabbed him, his tears falling onto the back of my hand.

“Nicole, I love you. The moment I saw you bleeding, I panicked and called for help right away. What’s wrong with you?”

I gave a humorless laugh.

“You love me? So your idea of love is smashing porcelain against my skull?”

If that’s love…

Then I’d rather you gave it to someone else.

Jason faltered, stunned. Then he quickly scrambled for defense.

“Nicole, I panicked! You looked like a completely different person—grabbing Julia by the neck and terrifying everyone in the room.”

“You know she and I grew up together—we’ve been neighbors since we were toddlers. She was just trying to help patch things up between us. How can you twist it like that?”

“Stop.”

I cut him off, my tone of ice cold. “Whatever excuses you’re trying to spin, I don’t care. My answer is simple: divorce.”

Even my father-in-law and mother-in-law, who had been shamelessly eavesdropping from just outside the door, looked at each other, stunned by my unwavering resolve.

They clearly hadn’t expected me to be this determined.

Suddenly, my father-in-law barged in.

“Nicole, you’ve never been this heartless before. Tell me the truth—did Jason do something unforgivable? If he did, just say the word, and I’ll teach him a proper lesson.”

It sounded like he was on my side—but only for a moment.

Before I could even open my mouth, he changed tone.

“Or… is there someone else?”

“My dear daughter-in-law, you just had a baby, you’ve started building your own little family. Don’t let some smooth-talking young man tempt you into ruining everything.”

“One moment of weakness, and your whole life could fall apart.”

My mother-in-law, who had been watching silently, stepped in too—her voice impatiently, her expression filled with disdain.

“Exactly. Young couples bicker, it’s normal. Quarrel at the head of the bed, make up at the foot of the bed.”

“You’re a wife and a mother now. Learn to be more tolerant.”

“Marriage isn’t a joke. You can’t just throw out the word ‘divorce’ every time things don’t go your way.”

Jason, for once, was unusually patient. He gently took my hand and whispered, his tone tender and coaxing.

“Wife, please talk to me. What’s really going on? If something’s wrong, let us face it together.”

“You’re so desperate to leave me… Are you suspecting something?”

His voice trembled. His expression, once confident, now betrayed a crack—a subtle flicker of fear and guilt.

Tears rolled down his cheeks once more.

“No matter what it is, even if you’ve done something, I’ll take the fall for you. Don’t worry about me.”

I stared at him in silence.

That flicker of panic in his eyes told me everything I needed to know.