Arthur stepped out first, his arm draped loosely around Kylie’s waist. Their eyes widened when they saw me standing there, pale and unmoving.
“Diana—” Kylie immediately slipped from his embrace, her face soft with feigned worry. “Don’t misunderstand. I was running a fever last night, and Arthur just... took care of me.”
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, her voice trembling at just the right pitch to sound sincere.
I stared at her blankly, the air thick in my lungs. “Taking care of you,” I echoed in a whisper, my lips curling bitterly.
Kylie lowered her gaze, feigning guilt. “I know how this must look. But please don’t think badly of Arthur. He was only being kind.”
I let out a harsh, humorless laugh. “Kylie, do you take me for a three-year-old child? Do you really expect me to believe such nonsense?”
Her smile faltered. Before she could reply, I stepped closer, my voice sharp with anger. “You’ve stolen everything from me—my family, my place, my husband. Was this what you wanted all along?”
Her silence was answer enough. Fury surged in my chest. My hand rose before I could stop myself, and the sharp crack of my palm striking her cheek echoed down the hallway.
Kylie gasped, clutching her face.
“Diana!” Arthur’s roar shook me to my core. He shoved me hard, and I stumbled back, nearly falling. My hands flew instinctively to my stomach, terror flashing through me.
The baby…
“Arthur...” My voice trembled as I steadied myself. “If Kylie wants everything, then she can have it. I won’t fight anymore.”
For a fleeting moment, his eyes softened, guilt flickering there. He opened his mouth as if to speak—but Kylie leaned weakly against him, her voice soft and pitiful. “Arthur… my stomach hurts. I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday.”
His guilt vanished instantly. His jaw hardened, and his voice turned cold. “Diana, go make her something to eat. That’s the least you can do after humiliating me yesterday.”
I froze, my hand still pressed protectively against my belly. His order was like a final slap across the face, a reminder of just how little I mattered.
—
Back in my room, I collapsed onto the bed. My chest rose and fell rapidly, my body trembling as the weight of everything crushed me. I reached for my phone with unsteady fingers and dialed the one person I could still lean on.
“Hello?” My best friend’s calm voice came through the line.
“Can you…” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Can you draft a divorce agreement for me?”
There was silence on the other end, then a soft sigh. “Diana… are you sure?”
“Yes,” I whispered, tears sliding down my temples as I lay staring at the ceiling. “I can’t keep doing this. They all want me gone. I’ll give them what they want.”
“Alright,” she said gently. “I’ll prepare it right away. But Diana… don’t lose yourself in their cruelty. You deserve more than this.”
Her words barely reached me. My heart was already numb.
…
The night dragged on endlessly. I wandered the house, my footsteps echoing through the empty halls. Every corner carried memories of the woman I had once been—hopeful, foolishly in love.
The dining table where I had waited hours for Arthur to come home.
The study where I had stayed up late, sorting his documents while he was “on business trips.”
The sofa where I once believed his embrace was my safe place.
How naïve I had been.
…
The next morning, I moved on autopilot. I cooked breakfast, set the table, and placed each dish carefully, though my hands trembled.
Kylie was the first to arrive, radiant in a pale pink dress. “I have some business to attend to today,” she said sweetly, sliding her hand into Arthur’s when he appeared moments later. “Since I just got back, Arthur will accompany me.”
Her tone was light, but her eyes flicked to me, daring me to object.
I only hummed softly, lowering my gaze to my plate.
Arthur didn’t even look at me as he pulled out a chair for Kylie. They laughed quietly between themselves, their voices carrying across the table. It was as if I were no longer there.
The moment the door closed behind them, silence swallowed the house whole.
I cleaned the dishes with mechanical motions, then went upstairs to pack my belongings. My friend had already emailed me the divorce agreement. I printed it out, signed it with shaking hands, and placed it neatly in the drawer of Arthur’s study.
My gaze lingered on the document for a long time. That single sheet of paper was heavier than any stone.
This was it.
They wanted me gone. I would grant their wish.
I no longer had a home here.
