Chapter 3
Yeah, I wasn't always talking like this.
Back then, just hearing Lilianna was coming over would make me so anxious that I'd lose sleep for days.
I'd plan out menus, scrub the house until it sparkled, and stand around like a nervous recruit waiting for inspection, all just to get his approval.
I'd go all out to play the perfect hostess, just so Elliot could save face with his friends.
But what did I ever get in return?
I remembered once, he brought me along to a business event. Lilianna was there too.
He left me standing alone in the corner, while he spent the whole night by Lilianna's side.
When people asked who I was, he'd just say, "This is my wife," like it meant nothing.
He couldn't even be bothered to mention my name.
And when he looked at Lilianna, the softness and warmth in his eyes were something I had never once seen.
From that day on, I finally understood.
Some people's hearts couldn't be warmed, no matter how hard I tried.
"What was I like before?" I asked him. "Was I quiet, obedient, never talking back, and always making things easy for you?"
Elliot didn't say a word, but his silence was all the answer I needed.
"But I get exhausted too, Elliot," I said quietly. "I just don't want to feel this drained anymore."
He stared at me, his expression tangled—confused, annoyed, and something else I couldn't even name.
"What exactly do you want?" he asked.
"I want a divorce," I said.
The moment I said those words, it was like a huge weight that had been crushing me for years was finally gone. I could finally breathe again.
Elliot's reaction was way calmer than I expected.
He just paused for a few seconds, then let out a cold laugh. "Divorce? Maggie, what game are you playing now? Trying to play hard to get?"
In his mind, I was so devoted to him that there was no way I'd ever actually leave.
To him, all my so-called "strange behavior" was just a ploy to get his attention.
"I'm not playing games," I looked him straight in the eye. "I'm dead serious. My lawyer will send the divorce papers to your inbox tomorrow."
With that, I grabbed my suitcase and started to leave.
"Where are you going?" he asked, stepping in front of me.
"Before you get the chance to throw my things out, I'll move out myself," I said.
"Absolutely not," Elliot said, his voice going cold.
"Who says you get to decide?" I shot back.
"Because I'm your husband," he replied.
Hearing those words from him was almost absurdly ironic.
Oh, now he remembered he was my husband.
On the very day I decided I didn't love him anymore.
"Elliot," I looked up at him, enunciating every word, "that's not what being a husband means. The way you care about me is like those last-minute reward point reminders from a store—not out of concern, just ticking a box."
I shook off his hand, grabbed my suitcase, and walked out of this house that had felt like a cage for three years, not even looking back.
As I reached the door, I heard him call out from behind me.
"Maggie, if you walk out that door today, don't even think about coming back," he said.
I paused at the doorway, but didn't look back.
"Relax," I said, keeping my voice steady. "I'm not coming back—ever."
After I moved out, I checked into a hotel apartment.
It wasn't big, but for the first time, I felt free.
*****
The next day, my lawyer sent the divorce papers to Elliot.
Elliot didn't reply.
I wasn't surprised. With his personality, he probably thought I was just making a fuss—leave me alone for a few days and I'd be begging to come back.
Too bad for him, he was dead wrong.
I didn't have time to waste on him.
I went ahead and registered my own studio, called it "New Life".
Then, I sorted out a few files from my encrypted hard drive and sent them off, anonymously, to someone.
His name was Issac Moody.
He was Elliot's archrival in business, and a legend in the jewelry design world. Unlike Elliot, Issac had a real passion for design, and actually understood it.
The designs I sent were the ones I was most proud of over the years—my boldest, but also the least commercial. Elliot always said they were "unrealistic" and "worthless in the market."
I didn't say much, just attached one line: [Interested in working together.]
Issac replied almost instantly. [Your designs are truly inspired. Can I treat you to coffee tomorrow at three?]
I looked at his reply and couldn't help but smile.
See? No matter what, there was always someone out there who would see my worth. What others thought was worthless could be someone else's treasure.
Meanwhile, Lilianna's birthday party went ahead as planned.