Chapter 4 · Done Playing The Fool

Jonathan had barely left the room before he was already texting her.

[Her chest is sagging like some old lady's. I can't even look at her.]

I snorted coldly and tossed the phone aside.

I still remember what Jonathan told me about his ideal marriage before we got married.

"Stable, loyal, and lasting," he said.

But in the end, to guys like him, the wife who stuck by them through everything was always seen as flawed—never quite good enough, no matter what she did.

*****

Toward the end of my recovery, Greg got in touch with me.

"I've sent you the reference materials. Review them when you have time," he said.

I opened the files—just photo after photo of ruined murals and broken statues.

Even so, just from the colors that remained, I could still see traces of how stunning they must have been.

"What are you looking at?" Jonathan asked.

I turned around.

He was standing right behind me, a frown creasing his brow.

Maybe I was just way too caught up in what I was doing, or maybe he was just that quiet.

I hadn't even realized he'd gotten so close.

"I'm heading out west to work on restoring ancient artifacts," I said, my voice firm.

Jonathan just scoffed, giving me a mocking look.

"Seriously? The northwest is tough as hell. You think you can handle it? You'll be back here in two days, tops." He snorted.

I didn't even bother looking at him, just replied seriously, "Whether I can handle it or not, that's not up to you."

That completely set him off.

He clamped his hand around the back of my neck, rough and unyielding.

"April, I've been taking good care of you all this time. Isn't that enough? Stop dreaming," he barked.

His tone was harsh, a warning clear as day.

Right then, his phone buzzed.

He glanced at me, then picked up right in front of me. "Babe, I can't come tonight. There's some situation at home."

He lowered his voice, all gentle and sweet, patiently sweet-talking the flight attendant on the other end.

I lifted my chin and stared him down, catching every bit of that smile and the soft look in his eyes. He saved all his tenderness for someone else.

Before Jonathan left, he shot back one last icy warning. "Stop this nonsense."

Then he walked out of sight.

I gave a self-mocking smile. "This marriage isn't even as peaceful as a grave. At least the dead can rest in peace."

I called Jessica.

After I vented to her, she just let out a long sigh.

"Whenever it rains lately, my whole body hurts like hell. But honestly, those stretch marks on my stomach bother me even more," I went on, half-joking, half bitter.

After a long, heavy silence, she finally let out a sigh and relented.

That's when I knew I was finally free.

Late that night, Fred Hawk, the Carter family butler, showed up with the draft divorce papers.

"Ms. Carter said if there's anything in the agreement you'd like to change, just say the word, and we'll fix it," Fred told me.

The girl would carry the Moore name, the boy the Carter name.

Suddenly, I felt the burden on my shoulders ease.

"No changes needed. The terms are fair," I said.

Just as I finished signing, Jessica video-called me.

She looked worn out. "April, I've already started planning the kids' baby welcoming party."

"Don't bother. I'll be gone before then," I replied.

Jessica's eyes were rimmed red as she nodded, fighting back tears.

The butler took away the signed divorce agreement.

Whether Jonathan would sign it was no longer my concern.

As I was packing my suitcases, Jonathan just happened to walk in.

He stared at all the suitcases and demanded, "April, what the hell are you doing?"

I hadn't wanted to alert him and complicate my departure.

We just stood there in silence.

Finally, he broke the silence. "April, don't go. I'll cut her off for good."

"She was just a fling," he said, trying to downplay the affair.

I stared at him, but not a single feeling stirred inside me.

Seeing my indifference, Jonathan frowned in confusion and frustration. "April, what else do you want from me?"

I shook my head. "Nothing."

Not even your kids.

The conversation just fizzled out.

He picked up a video call—some woman whining about her busted faucet.

Then he hurried out, not even sparing me a glance.

The day of the kids' baby welcoming party came around before I knew it.

I caught a flight before dawn, slipping away while the world was still asleep.

Chapter 4

Jonathan had barely left the room before he was already texting her.

[Her chest is sagging like some old lady's. I can't even look at her.]

I snorted coldly and tossed the phone aside.

I still remember what Jonathan told me about his ideal marriage before we got married.

"Stable, loyal, and lasting," he said.

But in the end, to guys like him, the wife who stuck by them through everything was always seen as flawed—never quite good enough, no matter what she did.

*****

Toward the end of my recovery, Greg got in touch with me.

"I've sent you the reference materials. Review them when you have time," he said.

I opened the files—just photo after photo of ruined murals and broken statues.

Even so, just from the colors that remained, I could still see traces of how stunning they must have been.

"What are you looking at?" Jonathan asked.

I turned around.

He was standing right behind me, a frown creasing his brow.

Maybe I was just way too caught up in what I was doing, or maybe he was just that quiet.

I hadn't even realized he'd gotten so close.

"I'm heading out west to work on restoring ancient artifacts," I said, my voice firm.

Jonathan just scoffed, giving me a mocking look.

"Seriously? The northwest is tough as hell. You think you can handle it? You'll be back here in two days, tops." He snorted.

I didn't even bother looking at him, just replied seriously, "Whether I can handle it or not, that's not up to you."

That completely set him off.

He clamped his hand around the back of my neck, rough and unyielding.

"April, I've been taking good care of you all this time. Isn't that enough? Stop dreaming," he barked.

His tone was harsh, a warning clear as day.

Right then, his phone buzzed.

He glanced at me, then picked up right in front of me. "Babe, I can't come tonight. There's some situation at home."

He lowered his voice, all gentle and sweet, patiently sweet-talking the flight attendant on the other end.

I lifted my chin and stared him down, catching every bit of that smile and the soft look in his eyes. He saved all his tenderness for someone else.

Before Jonathan left, he shot back one last icy warning. "Stop this nonsense."

Then he walked out of sight.

I gave a self-mocking smile. "This marriage isn't even as peaceful as a grave. At least the dead can rest in peace."

I called Jessica.

After I vented to her, she just let out a long sigh.

"Whenever it rains lately, my whole body hurts like hell. But honestly, those stretch marks on my stomach bother me even more," I went on, half-joking, half bitter.

After a long, heavy silence, she finally let out a sigh and relented.

That's when I knew I was finally free.

Late that night, Fred Hawk, the Carter family butler, showed up with the draft divorce papers.

"Ms. Carter said if there's anything in the agreement you'd like to change, just say the word, and we'll fix it," Fred told me.

The girl would carry the Moore name, the boy the Carter name.

Suddenly, I felt the burden on my shoulders ease.

"No changes needed. The terms are fair," I said.

Just as I finished signing, Jessica video-called me.

She looked worn out. "April, I've already started planning the kids' baby welcoming party."

"Don't bother. I'll be gone before then," I replied.

Jessica's eyes were rimmed red as she nodded, fighting back tears.

The butler took away the signed divorce agreement.

Whether Jonathan would sign it was no longer my concern.

As I was packing my suitcases, Jonathan just happened to walk in.

He stared at all the suitcases and demanded, "April, what the hell are you doing?"

I hadn't wanted to alert him and complicate my departure.

We just stood there in silence.

Finally, he broke the silence. "April, don't go. I'll cut her off for good."

"She was just a fling," he said, trying to downplay the affair.

I stared at him, but not a single feeling stirred inside me.

Seeing my indifference, Jonathan frowned in confusion and frustration. "April, what else do you want from me?"

I shook my head. "Nothing."

Not even your kids.

The conversation just fizzled out.

He picked up a video call—some woman whining about her busted faucet.

Then he hurried out, not even sparing me a glance.

The day of the kids' baby welcoming party came around before I knew it.

I caught a flight before dawn, slipping away while the world was still asleep.