Chapter 1

When I found out Andrew Cooper was cheating, he didn't panic or deny it.

We talked, split our assets, and got ready for the divorce.

It was all very civil.

On the way to get our divorce papers, I couldn't help but ask him, "Why do you have to fight for that house in Willow Grove Residence?"

"Oh, that?" Andrew gripped the steering wheel, his tone casual.

"Lily's jealous," he continued. "She said she has to destroy any trace of me being with another woman to feel better."

Andrew shook his head, looking both helpless and a little indulgent.

"Such a kid," he added.

I froze for a few seconds, staring at his profile; he actually looked happy about divorcing me.

Then I swung my bag and hit him so hard his nose started bleeding.

*****

I always thought I was emotionally detached.

My friends said I was emotionally shut off.

Whenever I got hurt, I didn't cry or throw a fit. I handled it.

After I found out Andrew was cheating, I was still able to call a lawyer, sort out our finances, gather evidence, and sit down with him to talk divorce terms, all without losing my cool.

I thought that was my strength.

But later, I realized it wasn't that I didn't feel pain. It was that the pain hit me more slowly than it did for most people.

It hit so slowly that Andrew actually thought I didn't even have the right to feel hurt.

Since he was the one who messed up, he quickly agreed to hand over most of our marital assets.

The only thing he wouldn't let go of was the house at Willow Grove Residence.

We bought that place when we were twenty-four.

It wiped out all our savings.

The day we got the keys, we stood in that unfinished room that smelled like concrete, dreaming about what kind of sofa we'd get, what color curtains we'd hang, and whether we'd plant mint and rosemary out on the balcony.

Andrew was so full of energy back then.

He said, "Charlotte, this is going to be our home."

I never forgot that happiness, even after all these years.

Eight years went by, and Andrew's salary kept climbing.

Each time we moved, the houses got bigger and nicer.

By the time we divorced, we owned seven properties.

We hadn't lived in Willow Grove Residence for ages.

It was out of the way, had bad lighting, and the decor was pretty shabby.

If it meant anything now, it was only the memories from when Andrew and I were really in love.

So when Andrew insisted on keeping that house, I stupidly thought that even though he'd fallen out of love, he must still feel guilty, maybe even a little nostalgic about our ten years together.

It turned out that he only wanted it so his new girl, Lily Hart, could have some fun.

It wasn't about nostalgia.

It wasn't about guilt.

Honestly, even as someone who betrayed me, if he'd seen me as a real person, if he'd had even a bit of respect for me, he wouldn't have said all that like it was nothing.

I took a deep breath and looked at Andrew's profile.

He looked happy.

He was happy to be divorcing me.

A few seconds later, I checked my seatbelt and glanced at the road ahead.

I looked around the car, then weighed my bag in my hand.

"Andrew," I said.

"Yeah?" he replied.

The next second, I swung my bag and hit him so hard his nose started bleeding.

"Are you fucking crazy, Charlotte?" Andrew yelled.

He was totally caught off guard by my sudden move, and for once, he didn't care about keeping up appearances and cursed out loud.

I watched his reaction, ready to grab the wheel if I had to.

After all, I still had a whole new life ahead of me.

No way was I going to risk my life for this.

Andrew fumbled to pull over, then glared at me, furious.

He snatched a tissue to wipe the blood from his nose, his brows furrowed as he tried to hold back his anger.

"Charlotte, I always thought you were smart and calm, not some hysterical woman," he said. "Can't we get divorced with dignity?"

I let out a cold laugh. "With dignity? You've been plotting this divorce for ages, itching to run off with your little lover.

"You're happy, everything's going your way; of course you can act all dignified. Your dignity is genuine. But what about me?"

I looked at him, and suddenly, I saw through all my own self-deception. "I was betrayed, abandoned, and forced to accept all this. Why should I act with dignity? Is that what you call dignity? No. That's being pathetic."

Andrew looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time. "What do you want?"

'I want you two to suffer,' I thought. 'I want you and your mistress to never have a happy ending.'

But I only stared at him and said calmly, "I want to vent."

Before Andrew could react, I slapped him again.

With a smack, a bright red handprint appeared on his face.

Before I could slap him again, Andrew grabbed my wrist, his jaw clenched. "Charlotte, don't push it."

I kept my face blank. "Is it worse than you cheating on me? Is it worse than you taking the soup I made and giving it to your mistress?

"Is it worse than your mistress sending me intimate photos while I was in the hospital to mess with me?"

Andrew's face went stiff.

I slowly pulled my hand back. "No. I'm not divorcing you until I get my revenge."

Andrew laughed out of sheer anger. "Fine. Charlotte, I always knew you were selfish and cold, never one to take a loss. But I guess I still underestimated you."

He closed his eyes for a moment.

Probably because he didn't want any more drama with the divorce, and couldn't bear to let his little lover keep being the other woman.

In the end, Andrew let it go. "Alright, consider it my debt to you, okay?"

I gave him a fake smile and twisted my wrist. "Bravo, what a heroic sacrifice for love. Be sure to tell your little lover about all these battle scars. Let her feel sorry for you."

With that, I slapped him again, hard.