Chapter 3
The next morning, I got up half an hour early.
As nine approached, I knocked on the bedroom door.
Nolan took his time, still in yesterday’s suit, “You’re eager for divorce.”
I checked my watch and echoed his words, “It’s almost nine. Are you planning to disappear?”
“Didn’t you always want a divorce? Now you’re almost free, why need a reminder?” Five years have gone by, and the sincerity has long faded away. It’s not even worth mentioning anymore.
The next evening, I deliberately got up half an hour earlier.
As the clock approached nine, I knocked on the bedroom door.
Nolan finally came to open the door, still wearing the same suit from yesterday. “Phoebe, are you really in such a rush to get divorced?”
I glanced at my watch and threw his words from the previous night back at him: “It’s almost nine. Are you planning to pull a disappearing act?”
“Besides, haven’t you always wanted a divorce? You’re about to be free. Why do I need to remind you?”
With that, I went to the door to change my shoes. “Hurry up, or we’ll have to reschedule if it’s past nine.”
Nolan sneered and followed me to the door. “Fine, let’s get divorced. Eloise is much better than you. Marrying her will bring me more happiness than I can express.”
I nodded, brushing off his comment.
On the way to City Hall, Nolan drove like he was in a fury, cursing at everyone we passed.
I sat in the back, eyes closed, resting.
I’m used to interacting like this by now.
In five years of marriage, Nolan and I rarely talked about the little things in life, as couples do.
Initially, I would share interesting or delicious things with him, but he always responded with indifference, sometimes even impatience. Eventually, I stopped trying, convincing myself he was just naturally aloof.
But that wasn’t true.
I had seen him on Phoebe’s social media, being witty and charming.
That warmth just wasn’t for me.
At City Hall, the mediator kept trying to reconcile us. I smiled and said, “There’s no need to persuade us. The divorce is a mutual decision after careful consideration. Besides, it was a shotgun wedding. There’s no real affection.”
Nolan glanced at me, a complex expression on his face.
But I didn’t care.
Seeing we were beyond help, the mediator sighed: “There’s a one-month cooling-off period for divorces now. If you’re sure, come back in a month.”
“Take this time to think it over. Look at you two; such a handsome couple. If you’ve been married this long, there must be some feelings. Don’t act impulsively.”
Nolan is indeed good-looking, I agree.
When we started school, he was famous for his looks. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have had a crush on him for so many years. Plus, he comes from a good family, always treated like royalty.
Back in college, while we were eating street food, he was taking Eloise to fancy French restaurants.
He was generous and loyal to his friends and classmates.
But with me, he was stingy, unwilling to share even a bit of affection.
I used to agonize over whether I wasn’t good enough.
But now, I realize that’s not important.
He treated me poorly, not the other way around.
Because I hadn’t slept well, I kept yawning.
Nolan turned to see my tear-filled eyes.
He thought I was crying because I couldn’t bear the divorce, feeling smug: “I told you there’s no remedy for regret. Even if you don’t want the divorce now, it’s too late.”
“I, Nolan, never go back.”
I ignored him and headed home.
Once there, Nolan habitually said, “Go make lunch. I want sweet and sour ribs today.”
I ignored him and went into the kitchen, but I came out with the rice cooker I had customized.
He widened his eyes: “What are you doing?”
“I bought the rice cooker. Of course, I’m taking it with me after the divorce.”
Besides the rice cooker I’m reluctant to leave behind, I also want to take the shoe cabinet and glass vase I bought. But they’re too big and inconvenient to move.
“What do you mean?” Nolan asked, trying to suppress his anger, and I saw a vein throbbing on his temple.
“Isn’t it obvious? I’ve found a new place and plan to move out. Oh, though you didn’t buy me much, I’ve left the things you did in the bedroom. Handle them as you wish.”
Watching me busily pack my suitcase, Nolan suddenly erupted, kicking the coffee table. “Phoebe, if you leave, don’t ever come back.”
I frowned at him, “We’ve been married for years. Do you really have to be so hostile?”
“Wouldn’t it be better to part ways gracefully?”
“There’s no point in maintaining appearances between us. If you’re leaving, just stop nagging.”