After a drink that night, Emelia Chapman found herself conveniently getting a ride home from Khari Freeman—no designated driver needed.

Lorelai Bailey nudged her shoulder playfully and giggled. "Think your husband might be getting a little anxious?"

Emelia, not so sure about where David Richards' head was at, shrugged. "Doubt it. I've stopped holding my breath."

Lorelai didn't answer directly. She just gave a knowing look. "You might want to get going. Could be some drama waiting for you tonight."

"Drama? If we finally manage to talk divorce tonight, that's the only show I care about." Emelia waved and slid into the car.

Meanwhile, Ryatt Bailey watched the car pull away, totally puzzled. "What's David playing at? Now he suddenly cares about Emelia? He doesn't want the divorce anymore?"

Lorelai shot her brother an amused, slightly confused glance. "Not your problem, don't get tangled up in it. Let's head home."

When Emelia walked in, she was surprised to find David sitting in the living room. "When did you get back?"

"About twenty minutes ago," David replied evenly.

"Oh." Her tone was just as flat. "I'll grab a shower first, then we can talk about the divorce."

David said nothing, but his gaze followed her all the way to the bedroom.

As the water ran over her, Emelia's mind churned. If David brought up Ryatt, she'd admit to her fake affair—hoping that would push him into agreeing to the split once and for all.

But even with her resolve locked in, her emotions were a mess. She should've felt relieved about the divorce, yet her chest felt heavy, twisted.

She took a deep breath, trying to clear her head, then stepped out.

An hour later, Emelia came out in a nightgown, ready to talk. But David wasn't in the living room anymore. She checked his study—empty too.

"What the—did he leave?" she muttered, frowning. She grabbed her phone and shot him a WhatsApp: "Where are you?"

His voice message popped up quickly: "I'm in the lounge. Come over."

She listened twice—his low, clear voice was impossible to ignore.

In the lounge, David was on the sofa, a bottle of wine and two glasses resting on the coffee table. Emelia walked in slowly and settled across from him.

"Drink a lot tonight?" David asked, setting the mood. "If not, we can sip and talk."

"Not much. Just two beers."

David gave a faint smile and poured the wine. "Have fun on your little date with that 'brother'? Why didn't you drink more?"

Emelia paused, reaching for her glass, and let out a wry laugh. "I've got a low tolerance. Was scared I wouldn't make it home."

David looked at her through narrowed eyes, satisfied. "Smart move. Glad to see my wife still thinks about what's good for this house."

"Cut the nonsense. Let's talk about the divorce." Emelia wasn't impressed by his sarcasm.

David took a slow sip. "Emelia, have I wronged you?"

"Materially, you've given me plenty," she admitted, being honest.

"So it's something else, then." His tone turned certain. "You're upset because I work too much and don't give you enough attention?"

That hit a nerve. Emelia turned her head away, sipping wine in silence.

David let out a low, knowing laugh, got up, and came around to sit beside her.

"What are you doing?" She shifted away, keeping her distance. Staring at her glass, her voice softened. "I know there's someone else in your heart. You don't love me. Why would I be unhappy? Forcing this won't bring anyone joy."

"That's what you believe?" His curiosity sparked.

Emelia looked up. "Isn't it true? Everyone knows about you and that girl from back then."

David's expression flickered, lost for a second in old memories.

"You're still not over her," Emelia said, jealousy bleeding into her tone.

David snapped back, a smile creeping onto his lips. He leaned in, dropping his voice to a teasing murmur. "Honey… are you jealous?"

She instinctively leaned back, cornered against the couch, hands pressed defensively against his chest. "Who's jealous? Don't flatter yourself."

In one smooth motion, he pinned her to the sofa, lightly brushing her hair. "If you want me around more, just say so. I'd say yes."

Caught off guard, Emelia's face flushed crimson, her stammer betraying her. "W-What are you—what kind of tactic is this? I'm not joking, David. I'm serious about the divorce!"

Before she could finish, David kissed her—hard, commanding, his hands locking hers above her head, his leg pressing down. Fighting back was pointless.

His kiss was fierce, unrelenting, giving no room to pull away. Emelia instinctively tried to turn her head, but he followed every move until her walls crumbled, and she gave in.

The night burned on.

In the morning, David woke and reached for her—only to find empty sheets, cool to the touch.

"Honey?" He assumed she was just out of reach and fumbled across the bed.

Still nothing. He snapped awake, sitting up with a frown. It was Saturday—she always slept in. Why was she up this early?

He pulled on his robe and started roaming the house. "Emelia? Darling? You home?"

The big house stayed silent. Unease crept in as he dialed her number.

It took several rings before she picked up, background noise loud and chaotic.

"Where did you go so early?" David asked, confused.

Emelia found a quieter spot. "David, I've moved out. Let me know about the divorce soon. Dragging this out is pointless."

Last night had made everything clearer than she could ignore. One passionate night wasn't going to change the cycle she had to escape.

So she chose separation. Staying under the same roof would never lead to the happiness she actually wanted.

"You're really leaving me?" His voice turned cold. "Emelia, do you even know what you're doing?"

Emelia Chapman's voice carried a defiant edge as she declared, "I know exactly what I'm doing, David. Let's end this on good terms. Just tell me your conditions for the divorce, and I'll go along with it!" She hung up before he could even react.

After the call, Emelia leaned against the wall, letting out a long breath. She'd made up her mind — no more lingering, no more hoping for change, no more staying stuck in a loveless marriage.

On the other end, David Richards stood with one hand on his hip, frustration coiling in his chest with nowhere to go. Just last night, her jealous outburst over "that woman" had secretly thrilled him, making him wonder if she still cared. But this morning's abrupt exit slapped him back to reality — what he'd taken for jealousy was just a flicker of possessiveness, nothing more.

The truth? She'd never been fond of him. He'd known it since the day they signed their marriage certificate — her cool, detached expression said it all. This marriage had been a thorn in her side from day one, hadn't it? She'd been looking for a way out while he deluded himself into thinking that keeping his distance, staying out of her way, might somehow ease her discomfort.

He'd done everything he could to accommodate her, to make her feel less trapped. And still, she walked away without a hint of compromise. David let out a bitter laugh, caught somewhere between anger and amusement. Fine. If she wanted a divorce that badly, he'd see just how far she was willing to go.

Emelia made her way back to her old apartment — a cozy little place, just over a thousand square feet. Small, sure, but warm and welcoming. She'd only brought her everyday clothes and essentials; the place was already furnished with everything she needed.

"What if David comes after you and tries to drag you back?" Lorelai Bailey asked, dusting the shelves with a cloth in hand.

Emelia shrugged, sliding her books onto the shelf with a wry smile. "Knowing him? He might be pissed, but I don't think he'd go that far."

"Even after last night's little drama, he couldn't win you over?" Lorelai teased, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips.

Emelia's cheeks flushed, and she shot back with a shy smile, "What are you talking about?"

"Don't act all innocent!" Lorelai joked, tapping Emelia's neck lightly. "Ms. Chapman, there's a little evidence right here."

Emelia instinctively touched the spot, her heart skipping as last night's memories flooded back.

"That was just spur-of-the-moment. It's not like it meant anything," Emelia said, trying to play it off.

Lorelai rolled her eyes and switched topics. "And how are you going to explain this to your parents? You're not planning to tell them you were unfaithful, are you?"

Emelia had been asking herself the same thing. With a heavy sigh, she admitted, "I don't know yet. I'm going to handle the divorce first, then break the news. For now, it stays between us."

Just then, her phone buzzed with a video call. Seeing her mother-in-law, Nadia Simpson, on the screen, she steadied herself and answered with a smile.

"Morning, Mom," she greeted warmly.

Nadia — always the gracious, refined mother-in-law — had treated Emelia well from the start.

"Morning? It's almost eleven," Nadia laughed gently, taking in Emelia's surroundings. "You're not home?"

Emelia replied, "I stopped by the apartment to grab some reference books."

"It's Saturday. Why don't you and David come over for lunch? You skipped last week, and Grandma's been missing you both," Nadia suggested kindly.

Emelia hesitated. "I'm not sure if David's working today. He's been slammed lately."

"Oh, he's always busy. But no matter how busy, you two always show up together," Nadia teased.

"I've made your favorite spiced honey cakes," she added warmly.

A soft warmth spread through Emelia's chest, and she thanked her sincerely. "Thank you, Mom."

"Come soon. Grandma's waiting," Nadia said before ending the call.

Emelia looked at Lorelai, torn. "What do I do? I hate saying no to Mom."

"She really is a great mother-in-law," Lorelai agreed. "Just go. David won't bite."

After tidying up quickly, Emelia and Lorelai headed out toward the family estate.

Emelia drove to the Richards' place, stopping on the way to pick up Grandma's favorite coffee. After an hour's drive, she pulled up to the villa. As she got out of the car, another vehicle screeched to a halt behind her — David had arrived.

David stepped out holding a cake box, his expression sour. Emelia noticed his mood but stiffened her own, choosing to ignore him and head straight for the house.

"Mr. Richards, Miss Emelia, you're back!" Aylani Bailey, Astrid Richards's caretaker, greeted them with a bright smile.

Emelia slowed her pace, letting David catch up despite herself, and they walked in together to find the family gathered in the living room.

"Grandma, we're back," David announced with a smile.

Astrid Richards patted the seat beside her. "Come sit with Grandma. I haven't seen you all week — you look thinner."

Emelia sat down next to her grandmother-in-law. "Oh, Grandma, maybe it's the summer heat. I haven't had much of an appetite."

"Really?" Astrid raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing glance with Nadia. "Could it be something else?"

"Something else? Like what?" Emelia asked, genuinely puzzled.

Astrid gave Emelia's hand a playful pat. "What else but a baby!"

"That's impossible," Emelia blurted out. "David and I have been—"

"Ahem—" David's deliberate cough cut her off.

Emelia had been about to say they'd been careful — except for last night. David interrupted, clearly not wanting to discuss that with the elders.

Astrid looked at her grandson, curious. "You and David have what?"

Realizing her slip, Emelia quickly recovered. "Oh, we're just taking things as they come."

"It's been over six months. Who knows? It might happen sooner than you think," Astrid said with a soft sigh. "I'm not in the best of health, dear. I just worry I won't live to see my great-grandchild."

A pang of guilt hit Emelia at those words, and she glanced at David.

David moved over and wrapped an arm around Astrid's shoulders. "Grandma, you're healthier than anyone I know. With all your hobbies and treats, you'll outlive us all!"

Astrid playfully swatted at him, and he caught her hand with a laugh, promising, "Don't worry, Grandma. As your only grandson, I won't let our family line end here. I'll make sure Emelia is expecting within six months!"

Astrid Richards lit up like a Christmas tree at her grandson's promise, her smile practically radiating pure joy. Nadia Simpson shared in the warmth, though she'd never once pressured the young couple about giving her a great-grandbaby.

Emelia Chapman fixed David Richards with a serious look, her lips pressed into a thin, hard line. David, on the other hand, met her gaze with that teasing glint in his eyes — like he was genuinely getting a kick out of her discomfort.

After a while of chatting with the elders, Astrid gently shooed the young couple upstairs to their bedroom, clearly eager to give them some private time to talk.

Once the door clicked shut, Emelia didn't waste a second. "What was that about? We're talking about a divorce, remember? Why would you make a promise like that to Nana? Are you doing this just to piss me off?"

David closed the door, his posture stiff, his voice edging with frustration. "Piss you off? What was I supposed to say with Nana practically glowing at the idea of a great-grandchild? Announce our divorce and shatter her heart?"

Emelia shot back, "You could've been vague about it. Now you've got us promising a baby in six months. How are we supposed to handle that down the road?"

David mulled over her words, his irritation flaring as he thought about the way she'd bolted out that morning without a word. "Did you even think about how upset Nana would be when she found out you moved out without telling anyone?"

"She wouldn't have known!" Emelia huffed, exasperated.

"There are no secrets in this family. You really think Mom and Nana won't find out just because they don't stop by often? You're being naive!" His voice matched hers in intensity, but he couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes anymore. He turned and flopped onto the sofa.

Emelia paused, the truth of his words sinking in. The bodyguard, the housekeeper, the occasional driver David had assigned to her — they'd all notice her absence. It was only a matter of time before Mom and Nana caught wind of it.

A wave of helplessness washed over her. All she'd wanted was to escape this suffocating marriage, but she hadn't thought about how the household staff would inadvertently spill the beans to the elders.

Was this where their divorce would hit a brick wall? Just to spare the elders any worry, was she doomed to endure a loveless marriage forever?

The room fell into a heavy silence — a tension-charged pause as thoughts churned between them, neither willing to break it.

It lasted until dinnertime, when Aylani Bailey came to call them downstairs.

Before stepping out, Emelia cautioned, "Please don't make any ridiculous comments during dinner, alright?"

David brushed past her. "I know how to handle it without your advice."

Emelia rolled her eyes at his back and followed him out.

In the dining room, a lavish dinner awaited them. Not long after they took their seats, Nadia and Astrid entered, with Emelia helping Astrid to her chair.

Astrid took the head of the table, and Emelia settled in beside her.

Patrick Richards had fallen from grace years ago — thanks in large part to his own indiscretions. David's father had gotten tangled up in an affair and tried to legitimize his second family. Already struggling with heart disease, the elder Richards suffered a severe heart attack, undone by his own betrayal.

In the aftermath, David cut all ties with his father, clawing back the inherited properties and leaving the old man just enough to scrape by. With his father out of the picture, the woman who'd been gunning for a social climb took what little was left and vanished, leaving her five-year-old son, Braylon, with Patrick.

That left the unfortunate father and son to fend for themselves, and Braylon's mischief quickly piled years onto Patrick. Even their wedding day had been tainted by scandal — Patrick had shown up uninvited, lurking among the guests, only to get tossed out by David.

Astrid, ever doting, served Emelia a piece of fish, her voice warm. "I know how much you love fish. I had the chef fix one up for you to take home."

Emelia smiled sweetly. "Thank you, Nana."

"No need to thank me, dear. You're my only granddaughter-in-law, so of course I cherish you. As long as you and David are happy, I'm happy. And when I'm happy, I'll live longer — so I can enjoy more days playing cards, scrolling on my phone, and savoring those cappuccinos you bring me!" Astrid joked, smiling warmly as she sipped her coffee.

Emelia listened to Astrid's words, her chewing slowing as she felt the weight of expectations pressing down on her — like she was being hoisted up onto a pedestal she never asked for.

She stole a glance at David, who was peeling a shrimp with a serene smile that seemed to mock her.

"Nana, you're as healthy as ever — I'm sure you'll live to a ripe old age!" Emelia told her cheerfully, piling some of Astrid's favorite dishes onto her plate.

David placed a plate of shrimp in front of Emelia, his tone playful. "Honey, did you hear that? Nana's given us a mission. The happier we are, the longer she'll live!"

Emelia met his mocking gaze, her jaw clenching. "Stop gloating."

Clearly amused by her exasperated expression, David held a shrimp up to her lips. "Open wide, dear."

Seeing the approving smiles on Astrid and Nadia's faces, Emelia forced a blush and accepted the shrimp.

"Anything to add?" David whispered after she swallowed.

Emelia kept up the act. "Thank you, darling."

Beneath the table, she didn't hesitate to stomp on his foot.

After dinner, they lingered over coffee and small talk for a while, until David announced it was time to head home.

Before they left, Nadia packed up some of Emelia's favorite treats for them to take along. Astrid's parting words to David were a stern reminder: "Don't waste any time!"

David could only offer a helpless smile at her serious tone. "Alright, Nana, I understand."