Chapter 6
Emmitt's anger and disbelief were palpable as his eyes met mine.
“Do you even know what you’re talking about?!”
I took a deep breath, nodding as a wave of relief washed over me.
“Emmitt, let’s get a divorce.”
Uttering those words lifted a weight from my chest. Divorce had lingered at the back of my mind many times before, but now, I finally voiced it aloud.
Emmitt fixed his gaze on me, his cold smirk appearing after a pause that felt endless.
“Natalie, you’re just a small-time sales manager at my company. Without me, who would ever pay attention to someone like you?”
Useless.
The accusation cut through my already wounded heart, leaving another jagged scar. With a bitter smile, I shook my head and turned away, choosing not to engage further.
“Don’t forget how you begged me to marry you in the first place. If we divorce, don’t come crying back.”
Emmitt’s voice echoed in the empty space behind me. He had been away with Gia for a whole week.
I packed up everything in the house and sent it away, then called my friends for a night out. When they heard of my decision, they all congratulated me. Everyone knew the hardships I’d faced over the years at the company.
After having more than my fill of drinks, I returned home, my head heavy, and collapsed onto the sofa. My gaze fell on the wedding photo hanging on the wall.
Just then, Emmitt posted on Instagram. The picture showed him and Gia in a warm embrace, kissing, their faces radiating happiness.
“Congratulations to my girl for successfully crossing the Atlantic!”
I sighed, closing my phone, and placed the ready divorce papers on the dining table.
...
The next morning, I went to the company to finalize my resignation—it was really just a formality at this point. My influence in the company had long since waned. When my resignation letter landed on the HR director's desk, he didn’t even bother asking questions and approved it right away.
He called me afterwards, his voice dripping with fake concern.
“What a shame, Ms. Turner. We were all looking forward to celebrating your and Mr. Turner’s wedding.”
His sarcastic tone left me unfazed. I replied with a smile, “Don’t worry, you’ll have something to celebrate soon enough.”
I hung up the phone, but before I could leave the building, Emmitt called.
“Enough of this! Stop while you can!”
“I’ve rejected your resignation. If you keep this up, I’ll make sure you leave Turner Enterprises with nothing!”
I responded with a cold laugh. After seven years together, did he truly believe I was a gold-digger, someone easy to control with money?
“As you wish, I don’t care.”
I said this and promptly blocked and deleted his contact. Silence enveloped me once more. I submitted my resignation again, and this time, Emmitt accepted without protest.
Holding my resignation papers, I walked away from the company without a backward glance.