“Her fall has nothing to do with me.”
“If you’re really that concerned about her, why don’t you marry her today too…”
With a loud “slap“, Alexander’s veins bulged as he suddenly slapped me.
“Have you gone mad! Do you know what you’re saying?!”
“Your behavior tonight disappoints me. You’re not worthy of the title of Mrs. Yan!”
I touched the pain on my face, my heart completely dead and empty.
“Then let’s divorce.”
His breath caught, “What… did you say?”
“I said,” I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth, staring coldly at the man in front of me, word by word, “Alexander, I want a divorce.”
From that day on, the breakdown of my marriage to Alexander became public knowledge.
Not only did friends and family send all kinds of concerned messages.
The whole internet was buzzing:
“Will this power couple really split up?”
“Does anyone actually believe that? Their interests are so deeply entangled, how could they just split?”
“I bet the next episode they’ll make up!”
But only I knew clearly that this marriage was truly over.
I flew to the other side of the world.
Spent half a month emptying my mind by a quiet mountain lake.
Cleared out some of the past, some burdens, some emotions.
During this time, Alexander called three times, which was unprecedented.
The first call, he angrily asked what I meant by moving my things out, telling me not to regret it.
The second call, he demanded to know where I was, asking if I was playing some game of hard–to–get again.
The third call, he inquired when I was going for a prenatal checkup, saying he would go with me.
His tone went from angry to conciliatory, but he never mentioned divorce.
And now, I received his fourth call.
“Olivia, where’s that shirt you gave me last year? I can’t find it.”
I took a deep breath, “Alexander, listen carefully.”
“From today on, where your shirt is, where your tie is, where you are, where your heart is – none of this has anything to do with me anymore.”
“The only reason I haven’t blocked your number is because we still have divorce matters to settle.”
There was a pause on the other end, his voice tinged with irritation.
“Olivia, haven’t you had enough of this tantrum after so many days?”
“You’re not a three–year–old child anymore.”
“Don’t you know how deeply entangled we are? The family, the stocks, me, and the baby – which of these can you let go of?!”
“Your act has gone too far! Know your limits!”
Listening to his harsh words, I couldn’t help but feel absurd.
After the absurdity came heavy sorrow.
It turns out, he was never doubting my love, but too certain of it.
That’s why he had always been so fearless all along.
After a long silence, I mocked lightly:
“Alexander, do you know? Chasing and clinging on desperately will only turn you into a joke.”
With that, I hung up the phone.
