4.
The next day, true to his word, Justin took me to pick out a diamond ring.
Ten carats.
If I hadn't put my foot down, he would have bought me something the size of a pigeon's egg.
"Are you sure it isn't too small?"
I looked up at the handsome face in front of me.
Unlike Stuart's soft, gentle features, Justin's looks carried a sharp edge to them, a beauty that didn't ask permission.
It was that beauty that made someone like Stuart, by comparison, look bland and forgettable.
My heart gave a hard jolt, and I dropped my eyes in a fluster, a strange thought surfacing:
Justin was hundreds of times better looking than Stuart. So why had I ever fallen for a man like him in the first place?
"This one is enough."
Justin nodded.
"As long as you like it."
Five small words, and my eyes quietly went hot.
Ever since Lily entered my life with Stuart, he had never said that to me again.
Instead, Lily became the one who heard it.
One offhand remark from her, and Stuart would buy her anything she wanted.
Using what he called our joint marital fund.
My fist clenched tight.
As my thoughts drifted, a warm strength suddenly closed around my hand.
"It'll all be over soon."
I steadied myself and followed Justin out of the jeweler's without a word.
Just like he said. It would all pass.
It would all be over soon.
Three days after Justin sent the attorney's letter, the court set a hearing date.
I got ready early that morning and went with Justin to the courthouse steps.
To my surprise, Stuart had arrived even earlier than I had.
Lily trailed behind him, unable to keep the smile off her face no matter how she tried.
The look on her face was worlds apart from Stuart's haggard, worn-out state.
I meant to walk past them and go straight in, but Stuart blocked my way.
His eyes were shot through with red.
"Syl, can we talk? Just one minute."
Off to the side, Lily's smile froze as she heard it.
Her nails dug hard into her own palm.
Watching it, all I felt was how ridiculous it was.
"Even if we're really getting divorced, at least give me a chance to explain. Can you do that?"
Stuart's expression was so earnest that for a moment it dragged me back to how we were when we first got together.
And my heart still moved.
"Fine. One minute."
Seeing me agree, Stuart let out a breath of relief.
I followed him to a corner off to the side.
The moment we stopped, his hand shot out and clamped down hard around my wrist.
"Lily— I can't hold it together anymore. Without you, there's no way I can handle those projects at the factory. My boss says if I can't turn in a decent project proposal, he's going to fire me!"
Inside, I laughed coldly.
A man like Stuart. I really couldn't give him a single opening.
I wrenched my hand out of his grip.
"So? What does that have to do with me?"
I said it flatly.
The look on Stuart's face froze.
Clearly he hadn't expected me to turn this cold.
After all, the old me had given him anything he asked for.
Stuart had the looks and the smooth, high-EQ talk, but his head was empty.
All those years, every proposal that pleased his superiors, I was the one who dug through the material late into the night and wrote it out, piece by piece.
You could say the position Stuart held today was one I, Sylvia Sinclair, had pushed him into.
I'd been certain that once he lost me, the pressure would come down on him.
I just hadn't expected the day to come this fast.
"Syl, we were husband and wife. Are you really going to stand by and watch me go under? Does it make you happy to see me fired?"
"What exactly did I do wrong that you have to take revenge on me like this!"
Stuart's voice rose, worked up.
I said nothing and looked down at my watch.
The second hand quickly swept a full circle.
"That's your minute. Don't ever contact me privately again."
With that, I turned to leave.
Stuart suddenly dropped to his knees, clinging to my hand and refusing to let go.
"Syl, I lost my mind, I let greed cloud my judgment. There's nothing between me and Lily, I only ever treated her like a little sister. Forgive me, please?"
Seeing that I wasn't moved, something resolute flashed through his eyes, and right there he raised his hand and started slapping himself like a madman.
Again. And again.
The crisp sound rang out around us.
To my own surprise, I looked at Stuart's swollen, reddening cheeks and felt not a single ripple inside, only that the whole thing was absurd.
A full fifty times.
Several red welts stood out across his face.
Seeing no reaction from me, he let his hand fall, deflated.
"Syl, is there really no chance at all?"
I couldn't stand to look at that face any longer.
From the very beginning, he was the one who did wrong.
"Stuart, since you insist on tearing through that last thin sheet of paper, then I'll give you what you want."
