Avery's POV
“If it weren’t for Mr. Haynes, my mother wouldn’t have even been admitted into the hospital today. Avery, I’m sorry. I didn’t know today was your registration day. Next time, let me be the one to schedule it for you two!”
When I first heard about how she’d been taking care of her terminally ill mother all alone, my heart softened. My empathy got the better of me, and for a while, I stopped doubting her relationship with Stanley.
But mistake after mistake with our marriage registration forced me to see things differently. And the way Stanley kept defending her so openly, even embarrassing me in public, made it clear that day by day, in his pity for her, he’d also given her his love.
After hailing a cab to the hospital and getting my hand treated, I returned home. The moment I stepped inside, the smell of food hit me.
Stanley was in the kitchen. When he came out holding a bowl of hot oatmeal, he froze for a second at the sight of me before instructing, “Take this in and apologize. Once you do, this whole thing will be over.”
Before I could refuse, he shoved the steaming bowl into my hands. Only then did he notice the bandages on my palm. But his tone was laced with disdain as he said, “Don’t play the pitiful act. Avery, honestly, you’d be better off spending your time reading more, improving yourself. Compared to Darlene, you’re not even close.”
The pain and burn in my wound were nothing compared to the sting in my chest.
Right in front of him, I tipped the bowl over. The porcelain shattered with a sharp crack, and the oatmeal splattered across the floor.
I dusted my hands and said coldly, “Stanley, maybe you should get your brain and your eyesight checked. I don’t need to compare myself to her.”
His jaw tightened, anger flashing across his face.
“Avery, how could you?” Darlene’s voice chimed in from the doorway. “That oatmeal, Mr. Haynes made it himself!”
I turned and looked straight at her. “Want some?”
Before she could react, I yanked her forward.
“If Mr. Haynes cooked it himself, then it shouldn’t go to waste. Eat every last drop of it.”
I forced her face down into the mess of steaming oatmeal. She sputtered and thrashed, her muffled cries echoing as she pounded the floor.
Immediately, Stanley kicked me hard in the back and pulled me off, then wrapped her protectively in his arms.
“Avery, you’re insane!” he roared.
Yet I didn’t even bother answering. I turned, walked straight to my room, and slammed the door.
Blood seeped through the bandage on my palm. At last, I couldn’t hold back anymore. The tears I'd been holding back finally trickled down my cheeks.
Standing by the window, I dialed the number my father had given me.
“One o’clock tomorrow afternoon for the marriage license. Does that time work for you?”
The man on the other end sounded like he was still in a meeting, but he still calmly replied, “Yeah. I’ll have my assistant set it up.”
Not long after we hung up, the notification came through. Among the long string of divorce registration records, that single marriage license application stood out like a bright red flag.
So this was all it took. It was really that simple.
“Who were you calling so late at night?”
Stanley suddenly pushed open the door. His eyes then went straight to the blood-stained bandages on the floor.
“You really were hurt?” A flicker of guilt passed through his face. He stepped closer, gently turning my palm over in his hands.
“I didn’t know it was this bad. Why didn’t you say anything?”
He grabbed fresh bandages and carefully rewrapped the wound. His movements were soft, meticulous, so unlike the man I’d grown used to.
For so long, ever since our fights over Darlene began, there had been nothing between us but sharp words and cold silence.
But people crumbled when they were hurt and were suddenly shown kindness.
So in that moment, I broke down and sobbed uncontrollably.
He, on the other hand, wrapped me around his arms, and his hand patted my back in quiet comfort.
