Chapter 2

I was drafting the divorce papers when Mark walked in, a bouquet of roses in his hands.

Mark always brought me a gift when he came home.

Sometimes it was cake, sometimes jewelry.

He skillfully replaced the withered roses in the vase, his tone gentle.

"Tomorrow, I'll go with you to the clinic for the abortion."

Such a gentle voice, yet such chilling words.

In the past, I would have cried and fought with him.

But I didn't love him anymore.

I held up my laptop for him to see.

"Here are the divorce papers. If there are no issues, I'll print them."

Mark, still holding a dried rose, a slight smile playing on his lips, said, "Still throwing a fit, huh?"

He sighed, then smoothly ran his hand through my long hair. "Ashley, I'm exhausted. Can we please not do this right now?"

Three days and three nights with Tiffany in a kinky hotel, of course he was exhausted.

"Mark, I'm serious."

But Mark pushed the laptop back, then ignored me, slumping onto the couch.

"Ashley, could you whip up that protein shake for me? The one with all the boosters."

I ignored him. We were getting divorced; he still expected me to be his caretaker?!

"If you're okay with it, I'm heading to the print shop."

Mark suddenly jolted up from the couch. "You're really going to divorce me?"

I nodded without hesitation.

He sat up on the couch, waving me over with a dismissive gesture, like I was his pet. "Bring it over. Let me see."

I handed it to him. He scanned it quickly. "Go print it."

Without a moment's hesitation, I transferred the document to my phone, grabbed my jacket, and headed downstairs.

As I closed the door, Mark leaned back on the couch, smiling at me, but the smile never reached his eyes.

When I returned from the print shop, I found Mark and Tiffany roughhousing in the kitchen.

"Careful! You're hurting me!"

Tiffany pouted, reaching out to pinch Mark's face.

He leaned down, cupped her waist, and kissed her.

What a picture of pure domestic bliss, like something from a bad rom-com.

Unfortunately, my opening the door broke the spell.

Mark's hand, which had been on Tiffany's waist, dropped instantly. His eyes, however, remained tender. "You're back."

Tiffany acted as if she hadn't seen me, clutching his shirt and murmuring about not having enough kisses.

Mark glanced at me. "Tiffany's spoiled, Ashley. Don't be mad."

In our three years of marriage, Tiffany had been his longest-running affair, the one he clearly doted on the most.

I nodded, walking over with the divorce papers. "I've signed it. Once you sign, we can finalize the divorce on Monday."

Seeing Tiffany pouting and clinging to him, I added considerately,

"I can move out today to give you two some space."

Tiffany's eyes immediately lit up. "Oh, can I move in tonight then?!"