She only studied me with a smile that carried a meaning I could not make out.

Only now did I finally realize it.

Back then, I had been completely, foolishly naive.

My dry throat scraped like it had been torn by blades, each word dragging through with pain as I spoke.

Raspy and worn, I answered her, “After the divorce procedures are done, I’ll go with you.”

I spent one night at the hotel where my mom stayed.

The following morning, I changed into the new clothes she bought for me, then went back to the home I had lived in for six years.

When I stepped inside, my son, Bryson Hester, who was playing with his toys in the living room, shot me a look of surprise mixed with impatience.

He muttered under his breath, “Didn’t you say you’d be in there for five days? Why are you back in only three?”

At that moment, Adriel came down the stairs.

Once he noticed me, a quick flash of surprise crossed his face too, as if he had not expected me to return this soon.

But he quickly settled his expression and spoke in a light tone, “Since you’re back, go clean up and get some rest. Stop causing trouble.”

I shook my head. “No need. We are going to the City Hall now to file for divorce.”

When those words came out, Bryson’s expression changed.

He hurried behind Adriel and shouted at me, “If you’re getting a divorce and walking out of here, don’t even try to take me! I will never go with you!”

Seeing his angry face full of rejection toward me, I quietly curved the corner of my lips.

Yesterday, after Adriel left, he had left the essay behind.

That essay, I went through it again and again.

Every line he wrote stayed clear in my mind.

“My mom is really like a crazy woman. My dad works very hard, but she keeps making trouble for him. At home, she acts like someone who has lost control, breaking things and hitting Dad. If I could choose, I honestly wish this crazy woman weren’t my mom.”

The first time Adriel brought up divorce was when I uncovered his affair.

Calmly, I had taken photos of the messages and the hotel records I found on his phone.

When he walked into the house, I laid the proof in front of him and turned through each piece one by one.

With my hands clenched tight, I held back every spark of anger, quietly waiting for his regret, waiting for him to kneel and say sorry.

During that waiting, I pictured him asking for forgiveness in every way I could imagine, but he didn’t.

Calm and cold, he only coldly stared at me.

There was not one bit of guilt in his eyes.

Instead, backed into a corner, he looked bold, nearly daring.

He said, “Melanie, either erase those photos and stay as Mrs. Hester, or we'll divorce.”

Before that point, I had stupidly believed that if he apologized, I could try to let it go just once.

Because when a family broke apart, the child always took the hardest blow.

I didn’t want my child to walk the same road I did, forced at five years old to choose between Dad and Mom.

But he didn’t apologize.

His pride lit every part of my anger.

In hopeless rage, I grabbed whatever I could reach and hurled it at him over and over.

But when the voices of the nanny and our child reached me, I forced myself to stop the breakdown.

I did not want my child to witness such shameful scenes between his parents, but my attempt fell apart.

Bryson saw me hurling things at Adriellike someone who had lost control.

But he did not hear the things Adriel had said earlier.

Now, as I looked at the child I had carried, who stared at me as if I were something dangerous, I once again took in the strike cutting into me, a strike I had created myself.

“Don’t worry, I don’t want you. After the divorce, I’ll leave.”

I stayed unusually composed, my face showing nothing at all.

Bryson stood there, half believing, half doubting. He looked up at Adriel.

Meeting his gaze, Adriel spoke calmly, “Since that’s the case, we’ll register the divorce tomorrow. I’ll have someone draft a divorce agreement now. Once you sign it, the child will finally feel at ease.”

When he said that, the uncertainty in Bryson’s eyes vanished.

His entire expression lit up with hope.

I pressed my lips together and replied, “Alright.”

Adriel’s lawyer acted fast. Within two hours, the divorce agreement was brought to me.

Without pausing, I signed my name.

The moment my name was written, I heard a light, satisfied breath from beside me.

Bryson grabbed the agreement with a smile and laughed as he said, “I finally don’t have a crazy mom anymore. No one at school will laugh at me again.”

While I stood there stunned, Adriel, next to him, gave me a look that seemed just a bit too satisfied.

“When you were taken away, someone took photos and posted them online. Because of you, Bryson has been getting plenty of dirty looks at school.”

His voice was openly blaming.

But he overlooked that everything had started with him. I stopped challenging him at that point.

I went along with it, letting him dump every bit of blame onto me.

Yet when I caught the dismissive look in his eyes, it brought me back to the second time he mentioned divorce.

Back then, I couldn’t bring myself to accept it; like someone completely rattled, I ran straight to his office building.

In front of everyone working there, I shouted and accused him and his assistant, Amanda Collin.

He stood in the middle of the crowd, not reacting at all, watching my humiliating display with a cold stare.

And I forgot, those employees’ paychecks were given by him.

They wouldn’t talk about their boss’s personal matters carelessly, nor would they risk their jobs for someone who meant nothing to them.

Everyone stared at me like I was some joke.

Those mocking eyes left me with nowhere to go.

I naturally wanted to run, yet I heard someone in the crowd say, “She looks beautiful, but she really can’t compare to Assistant Amanda. If I were the boss, I wouldn’t pick this old woman either.”

“Yeah, there are so many cheating men out there, especially rich ones. Why is she so dumb, not knowing how to look the other way?”

“If I were her, I wouldn’t make a scene at all. Why not just take the money and live easily at home? Why run around like a maniac and let everyone watch the show?”

Standing inside the crowd, hearing those quiet comments close by, I suddenly recalled the year Adriel started his company. I helped him secure a deal with a big client.

I drank so much during the negotiation that I ended up with stomach ulcers and was hospitalized.

It was he, Adriel, who stayed at my bedside, holding my hand tightly as he cried and choked out, “Melanie, in this life, I will never cheat on you. I’ll give you a home, make you the Mrs. Hester everyone admires.”

I parted my lips, wanting to answer those people, wanting to tell them it was Adriel who promised me a future. He was the one who said he would grow old with me.

But before I could speak, Amanda came rushing over in tears.

With a heavy sound, she dropped to her knees right in front of me.

Bowing her head, she sobbed, “Mrs. Hester, I never planned to come between you and President Hester. If you dislike me, I can leave right away. I won’t see him again. But please, I’m begging you, stop causing trouble here. If you keep acting like this, how is President Hester supposed to face the staff later?”

She looked like a kind woman who only cared about Adriel, and with one line, she made me look like the unreasonable, wild troublemaker.

Adriel Hester looked at her, crying so gently she seemed breakable.

Moving closer, he lifted Amanda with a pained look in his eyes, then he yelled at me, “Enough! Melanie, we’re getting a divorce! I don’t want to stay with you for even one more day! I’m done with this suffocating life!”

In Bryson’s essay, he wrote about today.

Only then did I find out that the day I went to his company and caused a scene, he had skipped his after-school class and gone there to spend time with Amanda.

And in that essay, he had written. “My mom isn’t only a crazy woman, she embarrasses me so much. I don’t get why I ended up with a mom like her. If only Aunt Amanda were my mom, that would be great.”

I accepted the divorce and signed the agreement to cut ties.

For the father and son, today was a day worth cheering for.

They rushed to take the agreement and went out to celebrate.

While I was gathering my things, Adriel updated his Instagram Story.

In the picture, he, Bryson, and Amanda were wearing matching family outfits.

The man who always disliked bright colors was smiling brightly.

Even the smile on Bryson’s face was almost unbearable to look at.

Standing between them, Amanda looked exactly like the soft, educated mother a family of three should have.

I barely looked at it before noticing a message from my mom.

She texted, [I already prepared your passport. After you finish the divorce paperwork tomorrow, come with me. You can return later to pick up the divorce certificate.]

I didn’t turn her down; I only answered, “Okay.”

Before now, I always reminded myself that I had to act like a mother who cared for her child, letting him grow up safely and letting him feel wanted.

So I never told him, on the day he was delivered by cesarean section, I almost blacked out from the pain several times, yet Adriel wasn’t there.

I forced myself to stay conscious because I had heard that if no one keeps an eye on the newborn, the baby might get misplaced.

Clenching my teeth, I took one surge of pain after another.

In the end, I still couldn’t take it and called Adriel while crying, but he didn’t pick up.

I assumed he was tied up with work and carried all of my pain alone.

The moment I uncovered his cheating and finally tore everything open, I learned the truth: that while I lay in the hospital crying from the pain of a C-section, he was enjoying comfort in another woman’s bed.

When the baby suddenly got a fever in the middle of the night and I had an unexpected appendicitis attack, terrified out of my mind, he, who claimed to be on a business trip, was still staying with someone else.

My suffering meant absolutely nothing to him.

Whenever he felt somewhat guilty, he would buy me all kinds of gifts to smooth things over.

When he saw me give a real smile, he would secretly think in a shameless way: Melanie is so easy to calm.

He told me these things himself.

He told me happily how he treated my emotional gratitude like a joke.

He completely forgot that in our hardest year, when we lived in a dim and cramped basement, every time he saw other men’s girlfriends looking neat and polished, and then looked at me, worn out from running everywhere, fighting so hard for our lives, he would feel hurt and cry.

“Melanie, meeting you in this life made me feel lucky. If I ever lost you, how would I keep going?”

He said he wanted to give me the nicest things.

Each month after getting his pay, he would use half of it to buy me lovely dresses and jewelry.

Then he would say, “Melanie, you should have more. Wait for me a little longer. Whatever others enjoy, I’ll bring them to you, one at a time.”

So I kept waiting and waiting, hoping and hoping. Every day, I imagined a bright future for the three of us.

But the truth kept cutting into my already worn-out heart again and again.

I packed my luggage and ripped apart every photo of me in the house.

Then I hired a cleaner to make every sign of my life here neat and clean.

I planned to leave right after signing the divorce papers tomorrow.

That night, neither Adriel nor Bryson came home.

I didn’t ask them to return.

The next day, I went to the City Hall as agreed. Adriel showed up thirty minutes later.

As soon as he got out and saw me in a bright red dress, something like admiration briefly appeared in his eyes.

But his expression quickly settled, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

“Why did you wear your wedding dress here? Do you regret agreeing to the divorce?”

I met his eyes and shook my head.

Then I replied, “A red dress stands for celebration. Today is a day worth celebrating.”

In an instant, the faint smile on his mouth disappeared.

Staring at my calm, quiet eyes, a strange worry rose in him.

He questioned me, “Are you truly certain about divorcing me? You won’t regret it?”

“Melanie, I’m not someone who turns back. Once we finish the divorce today, from now on we really will be strangers.”

I picked up my phone, erased all of his contact details right in front of him.

Then I moved toward the entrance of the City Hall.

“Let’s go, it’s our turn.”

After finishing the divorce, I headed toward the car my mother had parked by the roadside without hesitation.

Seeing my firm leaving figure, Adriel suddenly felt an unexplained emptiness in his chest.

He lifted his hand, wanting to catch me, but only caught a handful of wind.