Chapter 6

Tamara didn't have to say it—I already knew what she was asking.

Of course, a mother would defend her child.

Even though Tamara had raised me, it was only because she wanted me to be good to Verda no matter what. I should've never expected real family love from her.

I drew in a breath, keeping my voice even. "Tamara, some things can't go back once they happen. Verda and I are past the point of return."

I glanced at Verda, her head lowered, shoulders shaking. I felt no pity—only disappointment.

"I get that you love her, but I can't keep lying to myself. From now on, she and I are strangers. We're done." I paused, letting my tone soften a bit. "But don't worry—I'll still look after you when you're older. You raised me, and that's my duty."

Tamara swayed like my words knocked the wind out of her.

She let go of my arm and stepped back, leaning against the wall as silent tears fell.

Her eyes were full of despair, and for a moment, it almost got to me.

"Arnold, do you really have to do this?" my dad asked, his voice heavy. "If you and Verda divorce, it'll be bad for both families. Have you thought about what this will do to our businesses?"

I knew exactly what he meant. My parents had always been bound by tradition, and to them, divorce was a stain that couldn't be scrubbed away.

Besides, divorce would be a mess—our families' ties ran deep, and it'd blow up more than just a marriage.

"Dad, Mom, I know it'll cause trouble, but—"

Before I could finish, my dad cut in, "Enough. We'll talk later." He shot a sharp look at Tamara and Verda. "You two stop making a scene and go home."

Tamara wiped her tears and quietly led Verda out.

The air was thick with tension, making it hard to breathe.

I looked at my parents. Both their faces showed exhaustion and helplessness.

I knew this wouldn't be over anytime soon.

I walked to the door and watched Verda and Tamara's backs. Suddenly, an idea hit me. "Dad, Mom, maybe there's another way."

They both looked up at me, confused.

A subtle, meaningful smile played at the corners of my mouth.

From my briefcase, I pulled out the divorce papers. "I've already signed. If Verda signs now, I won't make it public. But if she refuses, I'll file and let everyone know she cheated."

My dad froze, the coffee cup arrested halfway to his lips. Coffee crept over the rim, dripping in slow beads onto the floor, where it spread into a dark stain.

My mom looked up, and her eyes widened in surprise.

Verda spun around, tears blurring her vision. She stumbled toward me, grabbing my arm so hard her nails dug in. Her hand was cold and shaking.

Tamara's face softened, her eyes begging me. She gave a small nod, urging me to forgive.

My parents nodded too, though their faces stayed tense.

I looked down at Verda. Her face was streaked with tears, makeup ruined, eyes full of fear and regret, like a lost lamb in the cold.

Still, I felt nothing but disgust.

I pried her hand off me, her nails leaving red welts that burned on my arm.

In the end, she signed her name with a shaky hand.

I turned toward the door, leaving my parents, Verda, and Tamara behind, all looking uneasy.

At the doorway, I said quietly without looking back, "Let's go. Time to file for divorce."