Chapter 1

During a family gathering, Richard Shaw's subordinates once again teased his female partner by calling her "Mrs. Shaw."

I remained unmoved and quietly stepped aside to make space.

It was then that he suddenly realized I hadn't argued with him in a long time.

There was a time when he only had to sit near her to discuss work for me to question him relentlessly, refusing to let it go.

But at that moment, even when our son hugged that woman and said in front of everyone, "Olivia, I wish you could be my mom."

I didn't stop him.

Richard abruptly stood up, pulling our son away from Olivia Lane.

He said, "Enough of this nonsense. I don't want to hear such words again."

I gently set down my cup. My tone was indifferent.

I said, "Children speak without thinking. Let him say what he wants. Why bother arguing with him?"

The atmosphere returned to normal.

Everyone praised me for finally being sensible.

They were unaware that I had already made up my mind to leave.

*****

The next day, I calmly slid the divorce petition in front of Richard.

"I'm making Ethan's wish come true. I'll give up custody and walk away with nothing," I said.

Richard didn't even look up from the papers in his hands, not even a flicker of emotion on his face.

It wasn't until I tapped my knuckles on the table that he finally looked up at me, his eyes distant. "What did you just say?"

I looked at the mountain of military documents piled in front of him, and it hit me he hadn't listened to a word I'd said.

That familiar sense of helplessness slowly crept over me.

If this had been before, I would've started a huge fight, made him hear me out, and had a real conversation.

But at that moment, I was just worn out.

I couldn't even bring myself to say divorce again.

I flipped straight to the last page and pushed it over. "Just sign."

Richard just furrowed his brows slightly, as if he was about to actually flip through the papers and read them.

Just then, Ethan came running down the stairs, his voice bubbling with excitement. "Dad, Olivia said she's taking me to an exhibition today."

The "Olivia" Ethan mentioned was the captain of the Special Ops Unit and Richard's longtime partner.

The two of them had tackled several major missions side by side, and everyone in the military knew them as the strongest duo.

When Richard heard her name, his expression softened imperceptibly. He closed the file and prepared to stand up.

I held his wrist and slipped the pen into his palm. "Sign first, then you can go. It won't keep you from taking Ethan to see Ms. Lane."

Richard finally turned to look at me, a flicker of surprise crossing his eyes.

He was probably thinking about how I used to go hysterical at the mere mention of Olivia, but at that moment, I was speaking to him so calmly.

"Dad." Ethan stomped his foot in the doorway. "Come on. Olivia can't stand people being late."

"Okay," Richard replied.

Richard didn't say another word, just grabbed the pen and scrawled his signature without even looking at the papers.

As I watched the two of them rush out, I gave a bitter little laugh and neatly signed my name right next to his.

Our names only appeared together twice in my entire life.

The first time was at City Hall. He signed the papers and left in a hurry for an urgent mission.

The second time was at that moment, and he left just as decisively as before.

I didn't let myself cry. I slipped the papers into a folder, sent them off to the base, and headed upstairs to pack.

In my walk-in closet, all the clothes were muted dresses and crisp shirts, every piece blending into the next.

Just the kind of wardrobe "Mrs. Shaw" was supposed to have.

No one knew I used to be an international piano champion, a top performer whose tours always sold out in a flash.

But after I married Richard, the Shaw family insisted I step away from the spotlight. My piano was left to gather dust, and my sheet music got packed away.

Richard just wanted a wife who was proper, kept a low profile, and was happy to play the dutiful housewife.

And Ethan, growing up under the influence of Richard and Olivia, always admired people who were accomplished and decisive.

He never respected me for always being in the kitchen. He even told me, "I want Olivia to be my mom. She can drive a jeep and crack secret codes.

"All you ever do is make me eat veggies I hate, force me to do homework and go to cram school, constantly bug Dad and me, and just spend Dad's money. What else can you even do?"

Even when I tried to care, he just saw it as a bother, a constant source of misery.

It had been five years. I gave everything, and all I ever got back was the same cold shoulder and disdain from father and son alike.

My reflection in the mirror showed perfect makeup, but my eyes were hollow, lifeless.

It hit me then. Divorce was a decision I should've made long ago.