Chapter 3

I waited on the sofa until ten at night. After Nathan put the sleeping Connor to bed, I brought up divorce.

"Nathan, I won't interfere with your relationship with Iris anymore. Let's end this amicably."

Nathan's usually expressionless face actually showed emotion.

"Hannah, if this is because I didn't celebrate your birthday this year, I apologize."

I shook my head. "It has nothing to do with her. I just don't want to be with you anymore."

Nathan gripped his water cup tightly.

"I don't understand. We've made it through five years—why are you making trouble now? We're leaving the country tomorrow. Do you have to ruin tonight?!"

When the cup hit the floor, I was just grateful it was acrylic.

Nathan put on his jacket and walked out.

"Going down for a smoke. Don't wait up."

I saw him again at the airport. I'd brought Connor and ran into Iris.

She wore her usual smiling expression. "Hannah, I was packing last night so I sent Nathan home early. Why did he suddenly come over in the middle of the night and cling to me for ages? Did you two have a fight?"

"Just let him stay at your place from now on." I pushed Connor toward Iris. Connor happily grabbed her hand.

"Nathan's too much. I said we could just celebrate my birthday casually, but he had to go abroad."

I looked toward Nathan checking in up ahead.

"When we get back, I'll have him throw you a proper birthday party."

Iris's face showed smug pride. I swallowed all the words I wanted to say.

I couldn't compete with this young body, so I wouldn't try.

Nathan took Iris's hand with its extravagant manicure.

"Hannah, we're leaving now."

A rare hint of guilt appeared in his eyes.

"Remember to send me your birthday wish. If I can make it happen, I will."

"Dad, hurry up, stop dawdling with her. I want to ride on the big airplane."

Connor pulled Nathan and Iris, bouncing toward security.

After returning home, I developed a high fever. Completely out of it, I could only hide under the covers. In my delirium, I dreamed of Nathan.

He still looked twenty, holding my hand with that playful smile, calling me wife.

"Good girl, take your medicine so you can get better."

He put the prepared medicine to his own lips to test the temperature.

"Perfect. Drink it quickly."

When I woke from the dream, only the noisy phone ringtone remained.

I answered in a hoarse voice.

"Hannah Smith, why didn't you pack the rhinitis medication?"

"Don't you know the sea breeze is strong? Connor and I both had flare-ups."

Nathan pulled me back to reality, shouting impatiently.

"Fine, send me the medicine name. I'll buy it myself. You're such a hassle."

The phone went dead. My long-dried tears finally fell again.

I understood one thing deeply—Nathan and I could never go back.

I compiled all our income and assets from our five years of marriage.

I decided not to fight for Connor's custody. I had only one demand—that Nathan couldn't have any more children. This was his promise from the beginning.

I gave these materials to my lawyer, who quickly drafted divorce papers.