Lewis studied me for a long moment, then said nothing more.

Near the end of the workday, my phone buzzed with a message from Lewis—a reservation confirmation from an upscale restaurant.

I knew what it was meant to be: his version of compensation.

I gathered the divorce agreement fresh from the printer, slipped it into my bag, and prepared to keep the appointment.

As I left the office building, I ran straight into Anne.

As Lewis's widely known young girlfriend, Anne was indeed beautiful.

Right in front of me, she got into Lewis's car.

He drove off. Not long after, he sent me a message telling me to wait for him at the law firm.

I didn't wait. I went to the restaurant on my own.

Once seated, I ordered plenty of food and wine. This place's steak was my favorite. I ate both portions myself.

I used to wait until he arrived before touching the food. Over time, missing meals and eating irregularly became a habit.

In the end, Lewis never showed up.

I wasn't angry. I'd waited five years, and there was still no place for me in his heart. As long as he signed the divorce agreement, waiting one more night didn't matter.

What he didn't know was that the divorce agreement he saw—was written for him and me.

…

After dinner, I wandered around for a long while. By the time I got home, it was already very late.

The living room lights were on. Lewis was actually waiting for me.

I say actually because in our five years of marriage, he usually didn't come home until well past midnight. And I was always the one who canceled all social plans and outings with friends to wait at home for him.

I worried he'd drink too much with no one to take care of him. I worried he'd work too late and skip dinner. So I always kept hangover medicine ready, along with some hot food.

Lewis hated this about me. He said I was like an old nanny.

I shook my head, pulling myself out of the memories.

His gaze was cold, his voice even colder. "Janice, you almost stayed out all night again."

I answered with a simple "Oh."

In this house, staying out all night seemed to be his exclusive privilege.

Once we got divorced, I would have that privilege, too.

Lewis narrowed his eyes, clearly surprised by my reaction.

"Do you know what day it is today?"

I froze for a moment, my hand instinctively reaching into my bag. Inside was the gift I'd prepared for him earlier.

Today was our fifth wedding anniversary. In past years, I'd always gone to great lengths for it.

I didn't take out the gift. We were on the verge of divorce anyway. Going through hollow rituals like this felt unnecessary.

Irritation flickered in Lewis's eyes as he handed me a gift box.

"I prepared this for you. Open it."

I wasn't particularly surprised. After canceling on me so many times, he owed me some form of compensation.

That was Lewis. Whenever he did something wrong, he'd offer a bit of sweetness afterward.

And I would always wait anxiously, hoping the compensation would be a little more—hoping he'd stay with me a little longer.

I took the gift box and casually tossed it onto the sofa.

"That's very kind of you," I replied politely.

His gaze sharpened, as if my politeness was completely beyond his understanding.

"I didn't make it to dinner tonight because Anne had something urgent—"

I cut him off. "It's fine. No need to explain. I understand."

I truly meant it.

But Lewis seemed irritated instead.

"Stop being jealous all the time. Anne's family lawsuit is my case—I have to see it through."

I lowered my head, rummaging through my bag for the divorce agreement, and spoke without pausing, "Taking a case all the way to a concert—you really are thorough with your investigations."

His sharp brows twitched, and his entire face darkened.

It was something he couldn't explain. So all he could do was stare at me in silence, his expression stormy.

If this were the past, I would've likely been frightened by that look—anxious, second-guessing myself, then breaking down in tears and apologizing.

Yes. As long as he wore that expression, the one at fault could only ever be me.

But now, I simply kept my head down, searching for the divorce agreement.

I never found it. Most likely, I'd left it at the restaurant.

"What are you looking for now?"

Lewis shifted closer to me.

I murmured a noncommittal sound and didn't explain further. I didn't like him standing so close.

I didn't go to the master bedroom. I slept in the guest room instead. That night, I slept exceptionally well.

…

Given how often I'd been running into Lewis these past two days, I wanted to revise the divorce agreement.

I was sitting at my desk, lost in thought, when Lewis called and asked me to bring a few documents to his office.

I thought about it and decided not to bring up the divorce. After all, Lewis hated discussing personal matters in his office—especially with me.

I hadn't expected to run into Anne.

The girl was a client's daughter and a fairly well-known livestreamer. She was sitting at Lewis's desk, applying makeup while looking into a mirror.

"Hi, Janice."

There was a hint of provocation in the way Anne looked at me.

I gave her a gentle smile.

A bitch and a scumbag—she and Lewis were a perfect match.

I set the documents down and was about to leave when Lewis stopped me.

"Janice, get my medicine for me."

I glanced at Anne and immediately understood.

Lewis had grown up in an influential family and was physically delicate. He was allergic to many things… including certain cosmetics.

After we married, I wore only light makeup. Even when I occasionally bought something new, he would scold me harshly, "Do you even care about your husband?"

Over time, I stopped carrying cosmetics altogether and carried only Lewis's allergy medication. It became a habit.

As for my looks, my natural features were actually quite good. I just hadn't worn makeup for years.

"I didn't bring it."

I said the words, but my eyes were fixed on Anne's makeup.

Not because I wanted to copy her. But because those products could trigger Lewis's allergies.

After the divorce, I should be able to use them freely.

A flicker of agitation crossed Lewis's eyes, disbelief evident.

"How could you not bring it? You know about my condition—"

Anne cut in with a coy tone, adding fuel to the fire.

"Janice, that's not right. How can you not care about Lewis's health?"

Lewis fell silent. Maybe he realized there wasn't much he could say to criticize me. After all, I'd only forgotten the medicine. The thing making him allergic wasn't me.

"I'll take you home to get it," he said.

The moment the words left his mouth, Lewis looked awkward. He was the one who needed the medicine. Sending me home with him was unnecessary.

"You go back on your own. I have a lunch appointment."

I really did have one.

Rosie from the neighboring desk was the firm's best divorce lawyer—second only to Lewis himself.

If I was going to revise the divorce agreement, I needed some advice.

I certainly couldn't ask Lewis to help me revise my own divorce agreement!

…

I met Rosie at a restaurant next to the office.

As we ate, I asked her about specific clauses in the agreement.

"So you really want a divorce?" Rosie looked at me with a trace of pity.

She didn't know about my relationship with Lewis. In fact, no one at the firm did. After all, Lewis hated having personal matters brought into the workplace.

"Yes. My husband cheated. But it's fine—I want a divorce too."

As I spoke, I saw Lewis and Anne walk in, hand in hand.

When Lewis noticed me, he instinctively let go of Anne's hand.

I offered them a polite smile.

Then I waved over a server and asked to move our table with Rosie to the sunlit seating area outside.

The sunlight was just right. Better still, it meant I wouldn't disturb them.

I still remembered two months ago.

Lewis had been shopping with Anne, while I was picking out a birthday gift for him.

The same mall. An accidental encounter.

I stood there, flustered and at a loss. Anne was poised and graceful. Only Lewis flew into a rage.

In front of everyone, he scolded me for stalking him, for interrupting his discussion with a client.

In the end, I crouched outside the mall entrance and cried for an entire day.

So this time, I chose to keep my distance.

The divorce agreement came together quickly. Rosie had another urgent matter, so she reminded me of the remaining key clauses and then left.

I sat in the sunlight, sipping coffee, humming softly as I revised the last few terms.

"Janice, should I drive you back to the firm?"

Lewis stood by the table with a faint smile on his face. Anne was nowhere in sight.

I glanced at him and pursed my lips. "You and your young girlfriend really know how to have fun."

At the collar of his suit jacket was a conspicuous lipstick mark.

When he noticed it, Lewis panicked and hurriedly rubbed at it with his hand.

"She helped me hold it for a bit when we were paying. I probably didn't notice…"

He answered cautiously. I didn't really care.

"Should I drive you back to the firm?" he asked again.

I looked at my laptop screen, where the divorce agreement was nearly finished.

I nodded, then said apologetically, "Sorry, it'll be done in a moment. Wait for me for a bit."

He seemed pleased. He craned his neck and glanced at the screen.

"What's that?"

…

I kept typing as I replied lazily, "A divorce agreement. I'm revising it."

The scene felt unfamiliar.

In the past, whenever Lewis offered to drive me somewhere, I never dared make him wait—no matter how urgent my own business was.

Otherwise, anger would immediately cloud his face.

Asking him to wait for me—this was a first.

When Lewis heard the words divorce agreement, his expression shifted.

I hesitated over a clause and asked him, "How should a clause be written to ensure that after divorce, neither party can harass the other?"

"Huh? What?"

Lewis—a nationally renowned lawyer—actually stumbled on a professional question.

He dodged it instead. "You're a criminal defense lawyer. Why are you so interested in divorce agreements?"

I was about to answer directly when his phone rang.

It was Anne.

While he took the call, I didn't waste time. I saved the revised agreement and went inside to borrow the shop's printer.

Watching the divorce agreement come out of the printer, I felt a quiet happiness.

Lewis was still outside, pacing impatiently while talking on the phone. From time to time, he glanced inside through the glass window.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," I said apologetically.

It truly had taken a while. The printer wasn't very cooperative, and it took more than ten minutes.

This was probably the longest Lewis had waited for someone in recent years.

He hurriedly hung up the phone and said, "It's fine, it's fine."

I was quite satisfied with this slightly polite, slightly distant exchange.

It was how things should stay after the divorce.

No—ideally, we would never see each other again.

I'd resign then, move to another firm. Better yet, change cities altogether.

The thought made me smile.

Seeing my bright smile, Lewis probably assumed my mood had improved. He smiled back, a little nervously.

I placed the divorce agreement on the table and said softly, "No need to wait for another day. Why don't we sign this agreement today? Don't worry, the property clauses are very favorable to you."

The smile on Lewis's face vanished in an instant.