Chapter 3
Since Ethan said he was adopted, there was no reason for me to keep worrying about custody anymore.
Maybe Ronan hadn't expected me to find out about that—about the adoption.
His expression darkened in an instant, a mix of embarrassment and anger. "Are you really taking the words of a six-year-old so seriously?"
He snapped, his voice rising, "You're a mother. You're a wife."
So what?
Yes, I was a mother and a wife.
Did that mean I was supposed to swallow everything in silence, to tolerate anything without a bottom line?
I completely lost the desire to keep talking to him.
"As for the divorce," I said flatly, "if you don't want to discuss it, then we'll just hand it over to the lawyers."
I was about to hang up when he let out a cold laugh. "Why would I not want a divorce?
"Lily, just don't regret it later. Come to Seaboren tomorrow and get the paperwork done."
I hung up.
The day after tomorrow, I was supposed to go to the elementary school in town to give a mental health class to kids preparing for middle school.
Tomorrow should've been for lesson planning.
But since I'd already made up my mind about the divorce, I didn't want to drag it out any longer.
The next morning, I took the earliest high-speed train back to Seaboren.
I went straight to the Civil Hall, then called Ronan again.
The same Ronan who had so easily agreed on the phone yesterday was now dodging my calls over and over.
When he finally picked up, he claimed he was at home doing a video interview and couldn't make it for a while.
Maybe it was just my imagination, but it felt like he was deliberately stalling.
"Why don't you come home first?" he said. "We can go over the agreement, then head there together."
I was starting to get annoyed.
Still, thinking I could pack up my things while I was there, I decided to go.
I called a cab.
When I reached the front door, I raised my hand to enter the password.
But before I could, the door swung open from the inside.
Ethan stood there. He looked like he had been standing there for a while.
Then I remembered—the lock had a built-in camera. He must've seen me coming.
For a moment, I almost thought he'd been waiting for me.
But the next second, I laughed at myself for even thinking that.
Ever since he was four and old enough to understand things, Ethan had never liked me.
He thought I was annoying, thought I was stupid.
I wasn't his father's favorite, or his grandparents'.
I couldn't play Go with him, couldn't help him with his homework.
There was no way he'd wait for me.
He probably just happened to be on his way out.
I walked past him without a word and went straight inside.
As we brushed past each other, his face looked a little stiff. Then, almost under his breath, he mumbled, "Y-You're back."
It had been so long since he'd spoken to me first that for a second that I couldn't even tell if what I felt was surprise—or shock.
The papers in my hand slipped.
Two draft copies of the divorce agreement fluttered to the ground.
Ethan immediately crouched down to pick them up for me.
As he reached for the papers, his hand froze mid-motion.
He was only six, but bright—his reading level far beyond most kids his age.
His face went pale. When he looked up, his wide eyes were filled with disbelief.
"You're gonna divorce Dad?" he said.
I didn't hesitate. My voice stayed calm. "Yes."
Not far away, Ronan came down the stairs and walked toward us.
He'd always been a reserved man, and his tone now was just as flat as ever.
"Don't talk about that kind of thing in front of the child," he said.
I took the papers from Ethan and handed them to Ronan.
"He'll have to know sooner or later," I said evenly.
To me, Ethan had long since stopped being an innocent child.
Ronan went silent, his expression darkening.
He didn't take the documents.
Instead, he turned his gaze toward the window.
"I'm taking Ethan to his Go class this afternoon. We'll talk some other day," he explained.
I stared at him in disbelief, wondering if I'd misheard.
"You're the one who asked me to come today—to finalize the paperwork," I said furiously.
His schedule was tight, but mine wasn't exactly free, either.
Ronan didn't reply.
For the first time, I realized I couldn't read him anymore.
Seven years of marriage—I'd thought about this countless times.
If I ever asked for a divorce, he'd agree on the spot.
After all, marrying me had been a calculated decision from the start, a matter of necessity and compromise.
Now that the crisis was over, letting me go should've been exactly what he wanted.
Especially now that Susie had come back from the dead.
I checked the time on my phone, remembering the lesson plan I still hadn't finished.
Holding on to the last thread of patience, I said, "It's only a ten-minute drive to the civil affairs office. Sign the papers and we're done in twenty."
Ronan suddenly cut me off. "Ethan can't live without his mother."
He seemed to have forgotten how he and his son had once said I didn't deserve to be one.
Anger and irony tangled in my chest. For a moment, I couldn't even speak.
Ronan seemed to take my silence for hesitation.
With that same cold, analytical tone, he went on, "Our daughter just came into this world. She needs her father.
"You're planning to move away alone—how are you going to manage?"
I couldn't stand it anymore. My voice snapped, "What exactly are you trying to say?"
He frowned, his expression oddly strained.
But in all seven years, I'd never once heard him speak gently to me.
After a long pause, he only said coldly, "I can't agree to a divorce."
It was the first time I'd seen him go back on his word.
And it was the moment I lost the last trace of affection or trust I had left for him.
Anger surged through me, then slowly burned itself out, leaving only calm.
"Fine," I said quietly. "Then we'll do it in court."
With that, I went upstairs, packed my things, and walked out of that house.