Chapter 1: The Breaking Point
Julian Shaw, my husband, cheated on me. This cold truth drove a sharp, unrelenting pain into my heart. Standing outside his office, I felt frozen, my body rigid as if encased in ice. The heel of my black stiletto scraped against the marble floor, the sound piercing the silence, echoing the cracks forming inside me.
It took what felt like an eternity before I lifted my hand and knocked softly on the heavy door.
“Come in,” his deep voice called from within, tinged with an imperceptible weariness.
I clutched the papers in my hand and, with my other hand, opened the door. With a forced smile, I stepped forward and placed the document in front of him.
“Busy? There are a few papers I need you to sign,” I said, my voice calm and polite. I even offered to turn the page for him to sign, maintaining an air of considerate gentleness.
Julian had returned from his business trip to Switzerland just that morning. The moment he walked in the door, he headed straight to the office, a pile of documents already waiting for him. His handsome face showed the wear of exhaustion.
Without even glancing at the contents, he quickly signed his name.
“Great,” I said sincerely, trying to hold onto the facade.
I carefully put the papers away, then casually asked, “Will you be home for dinner tonight?”
“I have plans tonight. Don’t wait up,” he replied, terse and indifferent.
“Okay, I’m out of here.” As I turned away, my smile twisted into a sneer, draining of warmth, like sand slipping through an hourglass.
Passing the break room on my way out, I heard a faint noise—something akin to the soft sound of a small animal stirring. I glanced inside and saw the familiar scene of disarray: the coffee table cluttered with crushed snack bags and a half-finished bubble tea, while a lone nude-pink stiletto lay on the floor, toppled like a wounded flamingo mid-stride.
My heart sank into a cold abyss.
Back in my office, I felt as though every ounce of energy had been drained from me. Slumping into my chair, I let out a long sigh of relief. From the pile of papers on my desk, I pulled out the divorce agreement and turned to the last page.
I gently traced Julian’s signed name with the tip of my pen, my mind drifting to the past. I remembered his naive belief that we would always love each other when he proposed. I recalled my mother-in-law’s contemptuous smile as she had handed me her version of a “forever.”
But forever was not meant to be.
As Shakespeare once said, “Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds.”
His mistress was a young girl. He thought he had covered his tracks perfectly, happily enjoying their secret affair. This time, he even brought her along on his business trip. After coming back, he took her straight to the office.
I set down my pen and sent a picture of the signed divorce agreement to Seraphina Shaw, my mother-in-law.
A week earlier, we had reached an agreement. She’d asked me to take the initiative to divorce and to keep our marriage a secret from everyone. Her condition was 100 million dollars. In a month, I would make Julian disappear from my world.
“Tuk-tuk…” The knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.
“Come in, please,” I called out.
It was Julian’s assistant, Roy Marlow.
“Ms. Frost, Mr. Shaw asked me to give you this,” he said, placing a dark green velvet brocade box on my desk.
Casually, I opened it. Inside was a set of rare diamond jewelry. Yet, as I stared at the sparkling gems, my mind flashed to a memory of a dazed, short-haired girl in a rumpled bathrobe, dangling a diamond necklace, backlit by the hotel lights pulsing with the rhythm of clandestine lust—the bed’s disheveled sheets framing her collarbone, where love bites marred her porcelain skin.
A wave of nausea washed over me.
“Thank you, Roy,” I forced myself to speak calmly, despite the turmoil inside me.
Roy seemed to sense my disquiet and added, “Mr. Shaw picked this set with great care—it’s the only one like it in the entire world.”
Unfortunately, his heart was not the only thing that was unique.
I smiled, forcing the words out. “Oh, that’s really touching. I can’t believe he took time out of his busy schedule to buy me a gift.”
Roy seemed to realize something and quickly left, his exit marked by an awkward silence.
I stared at the jewelry on the table, repulsed, as if it were something dirty. Taking out my phone, I snapped a picture of it and sent it to the owner of a second-hand luxury store, instructing him to sell it and donate the money to a foundation for mentally disabled children.
At 5 p.m., I walked to the garage. By chance, I saw a car parked across the street. Through the window, I spotted Julian with the young girl beside him. She snuggled up to him, her sweet smile radiating affection.
“Mr. Shaw!” Roy’s terrified shout broke the silence, followed by the screeching sound of tires.
Through the car window, Julian’s eyes met mine in the air. At that moment, the last trace of nostalgia in my heart vanished completely.
