I happened to be allergic to seafood. The next second, my throat tightened and I nearly suffocated.I bent over instinctively, my right hand scrambling to grab the stove for support.
Seeing this, Garren instead yanked my hand away and shoved me hard. My body uncontrollably fell to the side, crashing into another stove with a loud bang. Boiling soup instantly spilled over.
I didn’t have time to dodge—my entire hand was scalded, turning red and trembling with sharp, stabbing pain. As I slowly stood up, curling my fingers even slightly made the pain spike.
But Garren didn’t care at all. He only protected the pot, yelling at me. “What are you doing? I spent three hours carefully making this soup for Fenella! What if it spills?”
I stared at his actions in shock, swallowing the sour taste in my throat, my heart gripped by an invisible hand.
He remembered what Fenella liked most, but forgot that I was allergic to seafood.
He worried about spilling the food for Fenella, yet ignored me being burned.
So this… was the “good man” I had loved for seven years, the “good husband” I had been married to for three.
After the allergy symptoms eased slightly, I regained my composure, picked up the other hand and handed him the divorce agreement. “There’s a document here that needs your signature.”
“What document?” Garren sounded impatient, still annoyed by what had just happened.
I took a deep breath and forced a smile. “A housing contract. I plan to move out soon and let Fenella move in, so it will be more convenient for you to take care of her.”
His tightly furrowed brows relaxed slightly. “You finally came to your senses?”
He quickly glanced at me, took the pen and signed it swiftly.
“Yes. I’ve come to my senses.” I kept a smile on my lips, but my eyes were full of mockery.
Hearing this, Garren nodded in satisfaction. He was about to flip the page to look at the document again when a sudden phone ringtone interrupted him.
The screen clearly displayed the name “Fenella.”
Garren immediately tossed the agreement aside and answered the call quickly, a faint smile playing on his face. “Fenella, don’t worry. The soup is ready. I’ll come pick you up right away.”
I stared at him, my heart rising and falling in an instant and I couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of relief.
Fortunately, he hadn’t noticed it was the divorce agreement. By then, I could quietly leave as planned.
After Garren left, I went upstairs alone to pack my things and prepare to leave. In the bedroom, my eyes fell on a ring in the corner.
It was the token of our love that I had given him and also the only keepsake from my grandmother.
My grandmother had once told me that this ring could only be given to the person I truly chose to spend my life with. So I had given it to Garren.
But he never wore it. He even tossed it aside like trash, until it was gradually forgotten. I used to think he simply didn’t like wearing jewelry.
It wasn’t until one day, when I saw him showing off a matching ring with Fenella online, that I understood. Garren didn’t dislike jewelry—he just refused to wear the one I gave him.
I lowered my head and tears suddenly burst forth, falling drop by drop onto the back of my hand like shattered pearls, impossible to restore.
Silently, I picked up the ring and carefully placed it in my jewelry box. If he didn’t want it, then I would take back this ring—along with all the love I had given him.
