My words caught her off guard. She faltered, but quickly glared back at me, raising her voice:
“Even if we divorce, don’t you dare think of taking the patent! That’s the blood and sweat of the entire company!”
“My team developed that patent. Your company is only in partnership,” I tossed the authorization papers on the table in front of her.
“Don’t use ‘blood and sweat’ as moral blackmail. You know perfectly well whose work it is.”
Emily’s expression shifted at last, panic flickering in her eyes. She inched closer, her tone suddenly softer:
“Just wait until after the IPO, okay? By then I’ll compensate you—any amount you want.”
“I don’t need it.” My interruption was cold as ice.
“The marriage ends. Sign the agreement, or I’ll take it to court.”
Emily slammed the table and shot up, ready to explode, when her phone suddenly rang.
Glancing at the screen, her face softened instantly. She answered in a syrupy tone:
“Baby, what’s wrong? Okay, I’ll come right away… No, I didn’t say much to him.”
Hanging up, she didn’t even spare me a glance. She snatched her purse and bolted for the door, the clatter of her heels fading down the hallway like a stinging slap across my face.
I drew a deep breath and began packing my suitcase—the mansion was suffocating, filled with nothing but bitterness.
Just as I dragged the suitcase to the door, my phone rang again. The caller ID showed Emily’s mother.
I hesitated, then answered, out of respect for the elder.
“Mrs. Parker, Emily and I are getting divorced.”
There was silence first. Then Mr. Parker’s indifferent voice came through:
“If there’s no love left, let it go. Better to part on good terms.”
But the next second, Mrs. Parker snatched the phone, her voice shrill and piercing:
“Will! If you’re a real man, don’t sabotage the IPO! That patent must stay with Emily—it’s her life! You can’t burn the bridge after crossing it!”
The words burn the bridge pounded in my head like a nail.
Clenching the phone, I spoke slowly:
“Mrs. Parker, Emily’s life was saved by my bone marrow. The patent is mine. You know very well who’s burning bridges here. This call is just to inform you.”
I hung up, opened the door with my suitcase, and froze.
A familiar black sedan was parked outside. My father, Richard Johnson, and my younger brother, Kevin Johnson, stood beside it. Kevin turned away awkwardly, while Richard’s face was like thunder.
The moment he saw me, he barked:
“Who told you to divorce Emily Parker?”
The suitcase wheels thudded against the steps. Before I could answer, his accusations rained down like hailstones, shattering two years of missed family longing in an instant.
My grip on the handle tightened. My voice dropped low:
“So you both already know?”
“So what if we do?” Richard stepped forward, jabbing a finger at my nose.
“What’s wrong with Emily? She’s rich, has status, and treats you well enough. Why the hell would you divorce her?”
“I don’t love her anymore. Her heart belongs to someone else.” I tried to stay calm, though my fingertips trembled.
“Divorce is the best choice for both of us.”
“Bullshit!” Richard roared, the sound rattling my eardrums.
“What will you get after divorce? Kevin and I are relying on her! If you leave her, what happens to us?”
“Relying on her?” I froze, turning to Kevin.
“What do you mean by that?”
Kevin scratched his head with a sheepish smile, sidling closer:
“Bro, think straight. Emily’s powerful now. The company’s about to go public. If you divorce her, how could you ever find someone better?”
