Chapter 1
For three years, my mother-in-law Amber Pearce called me useless.
But the three-bedroom apartment we lived in—with free utilities, heating, and water—all came from my job at the government agency.
The day my transfer orders arrived, she dragged her son to sit across from me.
"Voreville? You think my boy's going to some backwater like that? Go by yourself if you want, but don't drag him into your misery!" she shouted.
My husband, Frederick Palmer, stared at the floor, silent.
I counted to three in my mind, but he still wouldn't look up.
"Fine. Let's divorce," I said.
Amber smirked. My soon-to-be ex-husband exhaled with relief.
Seven days later, the property manager showed up at their door personally. He handed Amber the notice.
When Amber finished reading the notice, her knees went weak.
*****
The harsh white light in the living room made Amber Pearce's sharp features look even more severe, her wrinkles standing out starkly.
She sat right in the center of the couch, like a judge passing sentence.
Next to her was my husband, Frederick Palmer.
"Sienna, I'll make this perfectly clear," Amber said.
Her voice was sharp, cutting through the heavy silence.
"If you want to go to that dump, Voreville, go by yourself," Amber snapped. "Don't drag my Frederick into your suffering."
I glanced at her, then at Frederick sitting next to me.
He kept his head down, eyes fixed on his shoes like they held the mysteries of the cosmos.
His fingers absently twisted the hem of his shirt, not a single word escaping him.
After three years of marriage, I figured that even if the romance was gone, there should at least be some sense of solidarity between us.
But right now, he was nothing but a man-child, cowering behind his mother.
My transfer order sat on the coffee table, black and white on official company letterhead.
Heading to Voreville? Yeah, it was going to be rough.
But nobody bothered to tell them this was actually a big step up for me.
I didn't need them to know.
I was just waiting—waiting for Frederick to make a stand.
Even just a simple, "Mom, please be nice," would have been enough, or even, "Sienna, I'll go with you."
I gave him three seconds to consider.
Time was up, and he never looked up, never said a word.
His silence was like a dull blade, carving at my heart again and again, scraping away any warmth or illusion I still clung to.
Turned out, to him, I was just someone his mother could control, and he could ditch whenever he felt like it—a burden, nothing more.
A cold rush shot up from my feet, turning my blood to ice.
I let out a slow, steady breath, feeling the chill settle in.
"Fine, let's get divorced," I said.
My voice was so calm, it felt almost foreign—even to me.
There were no hysterics or accusations.
It was like I was talking about someone else's life, not my own.
The moment I spoke, Amber's lips curled into a smug grin, her wrinkles seemed to melt away with satisfaction.
She shot Frederick a triumphant look, her eyes practically saying, "See? Didn't I tell you she wouldn't do anything?"
Frederick finally lifted his head, as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders.
He still wouldn't meet my gaze, but I caught the way he let out a deep sigh of relief.
For him, my leaving was nothing but freedom.
I stood up and walked toward the bedroom.
Behind me, Amber started gloating openly, not even bothering to hide her plans for the future.
"Divorce is for the best," she said. "My son is such a catch. He should've found someone more suitable long ago.
"Tomorrow, I would have Tegan Jordan introduce you to Mr. Giovani Webb's daughter."
Every word was like a needle in my ear.
But I didn't look back.
Every part of this home, from the wallpaper to the tiles, from the curtains to the smallest details, I arranged myself, piece by piece.
I used to think this was my sanctuary, my place to call home.
Now, it was nothing but a gilded cage.
I opened the wardrobe and started packing up my things.
I didn't have much, just a few clothes I wore often, some reference books, and my ID.
As for the pots and pans, and all the decorations I had gone to such lengths to find, I didn't want to take a single one with me.
Let them count as the price I paid for three wasted years.
In the living room, Amber's voice kept echoing, loud and triumphant, like a victorious general already laying out her son's bright future.
This woman was living large in a three-bedroom apartment all thanks to my job perks, yet she treated me like I was just a stumbling block holding her precious boy back.
What a joke.
The moment I closed my suitcase, I felt lighter than ever, like a weight had finally been lifted.
There was no longing, only release.
I walked out of the bedroom with my suitcase in tow.
Frederick stood in the living room. When he saw the suitcase in my hand, his eyes were full of mixed emotions.
He parted his lips, as if he was about to say something.
"Sienna, I..." Frederick began, his voice faltering.
"Meet me at the registry office at nine tomorrow morning," I cut him off, my voice completely cold.