Chapter 2
Half an hour later, 25 thousand dollars in cash were stacked on the table.
I grabbed the cash and said, "Emily, go home and pack your things. We're going to the courthouse tomorrow."
She just stood there, completely stunned.
"David, you're really going to divorce me?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"What else do you expect? Should I just keep playing the fool?" I shot back, my voice icy.
"I can change, I swear I can. I won't see him anymore. Can we please start over?" Emily begged, her voice shaking with desperation.
Emily clung to my hand, tears pouring down her face.
I pulled away, refusing to let her hold on.
"It's too late," I said, my voice cold and final.
I turned and strode toward the door, not hesitating for a second.
"David!" Emily cried out behind me.
I didn't look back—not even once.
When I got downstairs, I turned to Sam and said, "Don't let Emily in here again."
"Understood, Mr. Carter," Sam replied, nodding.
On the drive home, one question just kept running through my head.
Was it really over? Just like that, three years down the drain?
I thought I'd be furious, that I'd lose control, that I'd scream and yell and make a scene.
But I didn't. I was calm. Almost eerily calm.
Maybe it was already over the moment she started lying to me.
When I got home, Emily still wasn't back.
I sat in the living room, staring at our wedding photo on the wall.
In the picture, she was smiling so sweetly, her eyes full of hope for the future.
Did she really love me back then?
Just then, my phone buzzed—it was a message from Emily: [David, can we talk?]
However, I didn't reply.
Ten minutes later, she texted me again.
[I know I messed up, I really do. Please, just give me another chance, okay?]
I turned off my phone and headed upstairs to my study.
There was a safe in my study, where I kept some important papers.
But there was one thing inside that I'd never let anyone know about—a will.
At three in the morning, Emily finally came home.
I heard her footsteps—barely audible, tiptoeing like she was scared to wake me.
She pushed open the bedroom door and saw me sitting on the edge of the bed.
"You're still awake?" she asked.
"Couldn't sleep," I said, my voice flat and distant.
Emily sat down beside me and tried to take my hand, but I pulled away, refusing to let her touch me.
"David, can we talk?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"What's there to talk about?" I shot back, my tone icy.
"I just want to explain," Emily stammered, her voice barely holding together.
"Explain what? Why you cheated? Why you lied? Or maybe why you spent my money on your pretty boy?" I snapped, barely holding back my anger.
Her face crumpled, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.
"It's not what you think," she whispered.
"Oh yeah? Then what is it?" I shot back, my voice cold and sharp.
Emily just sat there in silence for what felt like forever.
"Mark... his business is in trouble. He couldn't keep things running, so I gave him some money to help out," she finally whispered.
I let out a cold, bitter laugh. "Borrowing money? So he had to sleep with you to pay off the interest?"
"Do you have to say it like that?" she pleaded, her voice trembling.
"Then how am I supposed to say it? Should I gently ask how many times you two hooked up? Where you did it? Was it good for you?" I snapped, my words sharp as knives.
Emily jumped to her feet, her face flushed with anger. "Why are you humiliating me like this?"
"Humiliating you? Emily, you're the one who betrayed our marriage. And now you turn around and say I'm humiliating you?" I replied, my words cutting like ice.
I stood up and walked over to the window.
Outside, it was still pitch black, with only the occasional car passing by on the street.
"Tell me, do you still love me?" I said quietly, not turning around, my heart bracing for the answer.
Behind me, the silence was suffocating.
After what felt like forever, she finally whispered, "I don't know."
"Then there's nothing left to say," I replied, my voice cold and final.
"David, we've been together for three years. Can't you at least give me another chance?" Emily pleaded.
I turned to face her. "A chance? Emily, chances aren't just handed out—you have to earn them.
"I gave you countless chances to choose me over the years. And every time, you chose to betray me," I said, my voice cold and unwavering.
"I just lost my head for a moment," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.
"For a moment? Three months is a pretty long time, don't you think?" I shot back, my voice cold and biting.
Emily couldn't say a word.
I headed to the closet and started packing.
"Are you moving out?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"This is my house. Why should I be the one to leave?" I shot back.
She just sat there, completely stunned.
"Then what about me..." she stammered.
"You're moving out tomorrow. Go find your Mark," I said.
"David, are you really this cold?" Emily choked out, her voice shaking.
I paused, looking straight at her. "Cold? Emily, did you ever think about my feelings when you cheated? Did you ever think about our marriage when you slept with another man?
"Did you ever stop to consider what it meant to use my money to spoil someone else? Was that not cold?" I fired back, my voice icy.
Emily burst into tears and ran out of the room.
I kept packing, my movements almost automatic, just going through the motions.
Truth was, I didn't really need to pack—everything in this house belonged to me.
But I needed to do something with my hands, or I'd completely lose control.
I was afraid I might do something reckless.