Chapter 5
I returned just in time for my dad’s birthday. They decided to hold it at a hotel this time, inviting relatives and friends for a gathering.
The hotel wasn’t far from home. There were five tables in total, all filled with familiar relatives and friends.
Many people were asking about Jack.
Fortunately, our son had an extracurricular class today and didn’t come.
My parents didn’t directly answer the questions. Just as dinner was about to start and my dad went up to give a speech, Jack arrived.
He was dressed in a suit and tie, carrying several gift bags and a big red envelope.
The relatives and friends all greeted him.
He waited for my dad to come down and handed him the red envelope: “Dad, happy birthday.”
My dad glanced at it coolly: “Mr. Wilson, you’re too kind. No need for the red envelope, since you and Olivia are already divorced. I wouldn’t dare let you spend the money.”
Jack’s face instantly froze. The relatives and friends were in an uproar, but quickly fell silent.
His voice was very low: “We’re still just in the agreement stage…”
My dad shook his head: “It’s all the same, same meaning.”
He then turned to invite everyone to eat and drink.
Jack just stood there. He gripped the gift bags tightly. My mom politely returned the other things to him.
He left without lingering.
Seeing him leave, the relatives and friends tacitly agreed not to mention Jack again. In the future, no one would ask me about him either.
That’s good.
My mood was gradually recovering, accepting, permeating. I shed the title of Mrs. Wilson.
I became Olivia Chen again.
The property management and housekeeper of the company somehow got the news. They no longer called me Mrs. Wilson, but Miss Chen instead.
I also quickly wanted to keep myself busy. I planned to open a coffee shop. There was a shop for sale that I liked the location and decor of, so I signed the deal right away.
The staff were all still there and could continue operations, but I wanted to take some time to adjust the menu and flavors.
I also wanted to change the storefront and furniture.
It was temporarily set to soft open.
After a busy day at the shop finalizing plans, I was about to head home.
I glanced at the calendar in the car.
Divorce countdown: 15 days.
Just as I arrived downstairs, Emma, a girl from Jack’s company, called me.
She’s outgoing with a straightforward personality that people find likable.
She asked if I was busy. When she learned I wasn’t, she immediately started complaining, asking if Jack and I were really getting divorced.