Better Brother, Better Life

At the very moment Phoebe Stanton miscarries, her husband, Connor Russell, is celebrating the return of his first love.

To him, her three years of devotion and companionship mean nothing more than being a live-in maid and cook.

Phoebe gives up on him and decides to divorce.

Everyone in their circle knows that Phoebe is clingy and impossible to shake off.

"I bet she'll come crawling in a day."

Connor sneers. "A day? That's too long—half a day at most."

But the moment Phoebe signs the divorce papers, she decides never to look back. She throws herself into a new life. She revives her career, which she once abandoned, builds new connections, and meets new people.

As time goes on, Connor no longer sees even a trace of Phoebe at home.

He begins to panic. At an industry summit, he finally spots her, surrounded by admirers.

Desperate, he pushes forward. "Phoebe, haven't you had enough of this tantrum?"

But Gideon Blackwood suddenly steps in front of her, shoving Connor aside, his very demeanor chilling the air. "Don't touch my woman."

Connor has never loved Phoebe. But now that he does, it's already too late. There's no longer a place for him in her world.

Phoebe Stanton had never considered getting a divorce since marrying Connor Russell. After all, she loved him deeply. She loved him so much that she would have died for him.

Then, his first love returned.

…

Phoebe was at the hospital when it happened.

The doctor's voice was detached as she said, "Ms. Stanton, this miscarriage has caused irreparable damage to your body, and your chances of conceiving again are low. You'll have to prepare yourself for that."

Phoebe's mind went blank, and her ears rang. She'd spent the past three years preparing for the conception of this child, and it had only happened two months ago.

That afternoon, when she'd been out and about, a car had suddenly hurtled toward her, making her lose her balance and fall.

The doctor frowned. "Ms. Stanton?"

"I understand. Thanks, doctor." Phoebe didn't like being vulnerable in front of others. She blinked rapidly and forced her tears back before getting up and turning to leave.

Behind her, the nurses whispered among themselves.

"This is such a big deal, and her husband's nowhere to be seen?"

"Don't even get me started. Before the uterine evacuation procedure, she was bawling her eyes out as she called him and begged him to come to the hospital. Yet, there's no sign of him anywhere."

"God. It's clear as day that he doesn't love her, isn't it? Why aren't they getting divorced? What's the point of keeping him around?"

Phoebe walked away, not hearing the words that followed. Connor hadn't just refused to come to the hospital. He'd even said over the phone, "If the baby's gone, it's gone. What's the point of crying? I'm busy now, so stop disturbing me!"

She had called him a few more times after that, but he hadn't answered even once.

For the past three years, Connor had been this cold toward her. In all honesty, she was used to it by now.

Three years ago, Phoebe had saved Connor's grandfather, Philip Russell, by accident. Philip adored her, so he had arranged for her and Connor to get married. Otherwise, with her identity and background, she would never have gotten the chance to marry him.

That was why Connor had objected to the marriage in the first place.

In truth, Phoebe had only insisted on contacting him that day because she thought he would relent for the sake of their unborn child. But she shouldn't have expected anything.

She pulled herself out of her reverie, wanting to get an Uber so she could go home. However, as soon as she looked at her phone, she received a message.

It was from Evan Grant, Connor's friend. He had sent her a video.

She tapped the screen to play it. The video opened with a massive bouquet of roses. There had to be at least a thousand stems. In fact, there were so many that the camera couldn't even fit them all.

The image panned left, revealing Connor with a woman beside him. Her name was Vanessa Somner.

Phoebe's eyes widened, and she clenched a fist around her phone.

Someone in the video said excitedly, "Vanessa, Connor knew that you were returning to Dalea today and started preparing for this welcome-back party ages ago! He poured his heart and soul into this!"

Another said, "Come on, you must give him a hug for his effort. Thank him!"

"A hug? Just kiss him! It's not like they haven't done it before! I still haven't deleted that video of you guys making out for three full minutes!"

Vanessa shook her head. "Things are complicated now…"

Before she could continue speaking, Connor wrapped his arms around her. "Welcome back, Vanessa."

His voice and movements were tender and natural.

Everyone in the video cheered.

"Look! Connor doesn't mind, does he?"

"Kiss him! Kiss him!"

The video abruptly ended there because Evan deleted the message. His following message read, "Sorry. I sent it to the wrong person."

The message had been deleted so quickly that he probably thought that Phoebe hadn't seen anything, so he didn't bother explaining.

Phoebe stared at the chat log for a long time. Then, a bitter smile spread across her face. So, this was what Connor had been busy with.

She had spent three whole years trying to win his heart, but instead of that happening, all she'd gotten was the return of his first love. That meant that it was even less possible for him to fall for her.

It was time for this greedy dream to come to an end.

…

Phoebe packed her things when she got home. Over the years, she'd led a simple life and worked a simple job. She rarely bought things for herself. So aside from essentials like clothes and identification, she had little to take with her. A 26-inch suitcase was enough to hold everything.

It only took her less than half an hour to collect all her things. After that, she took a seat and waited for Connor to come home.

It wasn't until 2:00 am that the front door opened. Connor passed through the living room and locked eyes with Phoebe. He wasn't surprised to see her there. After all, she'd waited for him like this on many late nights after his social engagements.

"You had surgery. Why aren't you resting?" he asked, his tone cold and devoid of emotion.

"I was waiting for you."

Phoebe's gaze landed on Connor's lips the moment he stepped into the house. They had a beautiful curve, but the corners were chapped. The collar of his white shirt was dotted with amorous lipstick marks, which also trailed onto his neck.

He really had kissed Vanessa. Maybe they'd even done more.

A sharp pain stabbed Phoebe's heart. She could count on one hand the number of times Connor had touched her over the past three years. He'd only ever done it reluctantly because his family's elders kept urging them to have children.

He never kissed her willingly. Each time, he would get straight to the point, and he never showed her any tenderness. Phoebe would always have a horrible experience. Afterward, when she longed for a hug, he would turn and head to the bathroom without giving her a second look.

All she ever saw was his cold, distant back.

Connor noticed the suitcase beside her and understood what this was about. "You saw Evan's video?"

"Yeah." Now that he was closer, she could smell the alcohol on him mixed with the nauseating scent of perfume. "Let's get—"

Connor cut her off before she could finish speaking. "Since you know what happened, let's call it quits. You knew from the very beginning that I would never have married you if Vanessa hadn't gone abroad."

Since he'd made his stance clear, Phoebe had nothing to say in objection. "Okay."

"It's late now, so you should rest. You can move out tomorrow…"

"It's fine. I've already signed the divorce agreement." She pointed at the coffee table.

Connor had given her the agreement on their wedding night, but it was only on this night that she'd made up her mind to sign it.

Connor was surprised. He furrowed his brows, seemingly trying to figure out whether she was being serious or putting on an act.

After briefly hesitating, Phoebe said, "I knew you would drink, so I made you a hangover cure. It's in the kitchen."

Perhaps it was just out of habit. To make Connor fall for her, she'd personally handled his meals and daily needs. She'd gone from being unfamiliar in the kitchen to an accomplished cook, and the process had been tormenting.

Every meal she made for him, from purchasing the ingredients to serving it, took several hours. Over the years, her fingers had been left with scars from cuts and burns.

But Connor was picky. No matter how delicious the meal was, he had never complimented her on it despite clearly enjoying the food. He knew very well that a single word of praise from him would be enough to keep her happy for a long time. He just didn't want to give her the satisfaction.

"I'm leaving," Phoebe said. Their three-year marriage was coming to an end, and there was nothing left for her to say.

Connor frowned. "You can stay the night."

"No, it's fine." She then left, dragging her suitcase behind her.

Connor didn't like it when Phoebe defied him. His expression darkened. Just as the door swung shut, Evan called him. "Hey, Connor. Are you home yet? Did you ask Phoebe if she saw the video? Sorry, man. I swear I didn't do it on purpose. But I guess it doesn't matter if she did see it. You two are always fighting anyway…"

Connor said, "She divorced me."

"What? Divorced?" Evan was shocked. "Just because of that video? No way! She'd never leave you! I'll livestream myself doing a stupid dance if she does that!"

Connor added, "I asked for it."

Evan was rendered speechless. Connor suggesting divorce meant nothing. After all, Phoebe was notorious for her clinginess and refusal to let go.

"I think it hasn't even been a month since you last asked for a divorce. You're like a monthly period now," Evan teased. "Last time, we bet that she'd return in half a day, and I won. This time, I bet that it will be one day. If I win again, you're treating me to another meal!"

Connor glanced at the door and listened as a car revved to life outside. He was surprised by how resolute Phoebe had been. However, he didn't even bat an eye as he said uncaringly, "She won't take that long. She'll be back tomorrow morning."