The smug curl on Nicolas's lips slowly faded, and a raw, simmering anger surfaced—the look of a man who realized he'd been read too easily.
"Perfect. Just perfect," he muttered, jaw tight, each word forced out between clenched teeth. "If you're that desperate for a divorce, fine—I'll give it to you. But listen carefully, Ashley… don't come crawling back later. The moment you lose the title of Mrs. Reed, you'll be nothing at all."
With a sharp turn, he strode toward the doorway and snapped at his assistant, "Get the divorce papers. Immediately."
Startled by the sudden command, the assistant flinched, then rushed off without a single word.
In less than ten minutes, the door swung open again, and two freshly printed copies were brought into the room.
Nicolas snatched the documents and slapped them onto the bedside table with a sharp, echoing thud.
Fixing his gaze on Ashley, he spoke with the cold restraint of a man extending his final scrap of mercy. "Ashley, for the sake of the three years of marriage we shared, I'll give you one last chance. Admit you were wrong, and I'll rip these papers up right now."
Admit she was wrong? A hollow scoff slipped from Ashley's lips. Of all the wrongs she had made, marrying him stood at the very top.
Without bothering to look his way, she strode forward, seized the pen, and bent over the papers. Her signature flowed across the page in one smooth, decisive stroke, bold and unyielding.
Not a flicker of doubt slowed her hand.
"There. It's done."
With a crisp snap, she flung the pen onto the table.
Lifting her eyes to him, she spoke with undisguised impatience. "Your turn, Mr. Reed."
The icy expression on her face threw Nicolas completely off balance.
Around the pen, his fingers clamped down so hard his knuckles blanched.
This wasn't right.
Something had gone terribly, unmistakably wrong.
The Ashley he remembered would be uneasy whenever he so much as frowned.
Each time her gaze landed on him, it had always brimmed with meek, desperate devotion.
The woman standing in front of him now met his gaze as if he were nothing but a stranger.
No—something lower than that.
She looked at him like he was garbage she couldn't wait to throw away.
That icy detachment pouring off her, sharp and final, sparked an odd irritation in his chest, along with a thread of unease he couldn't quite name.
For the first time, Nicolas faltered.
From beneath the blanket, Caroline had been silently watching it all unfold, and a cruel glint slipped through her eyes.
She couldn't let Nicolas waver now.
"Nicolas..." she whispered weakly, her voice quivering as tears clung to it. "This is all because of me. If I hadn't been here, Ashley wouldn't be arguing with you like this."
Turning toward Ashley, she put on a fragile, wounded look. "Ashley, please don't blame Nicolas for this. I'll leave. I'll go right now. I won't ever appear in front of you again..."
While she spoke, Caroline forced herself upright, her movements shaky, only to sway dangerously as if her strength had finally given out.
Seeing that fragile display erased the last trace of hesitation in Nicolas. Concern surged through him, swallowing everything else without a trace.
He reached out immediately, steadying her trembling body, then turned his gaze back to Ashley—cold, sharp, and brimming with undisguised contempt.
"Take a good look at Caroline, then take a look at yourself. A cruel woman like you has no place standing beside me as my wife."
Without the slightest pause this time, he grabbed the pen and scrawled his name across the agreement in one swift, decisive stroke.
Afterward, he tore one copy free and tossed it at her, his tone steady—unyielding, final, and merciless.
"Ashley, I'll be watching for the day you regret this choice. When it finally hits you, don't expect mercy—even if you come back begging on your knees, I won't give you a second glance."
Ever since Ashley had married him, Nicolas had been certain he understood exactly what kind of woman she was.
An orphan with no family, no backing, and no one in the world to lean on. In his mind, once she left, she would be utterly alone. Soon enough, he was sure, she would come crawling back and beg him to take her in again.
"Regret it? Then I'm afraid you're the one who'll be disappointed, Mr. Reed." Slipping the divorce papers out of sight, Ashley lifted her eyes and cast Caroline one final, measured glance.
And her lips curved into a faint, dismissive smile. "Caroline, I don't want this man anymore. You're welcome to take him. I sincerely hope the two of you stay together for a very long time—and spare everyone else from having to suffer either of you."
Without sparing so much as a backward glance, Ashley strode out of the room, the door clicking shut behind her.
Her spine remained perfectly straight, each step light and unhurried, as if the suffocating burden she had carried for years had finally been lifted from her shoulders.
Left standing in silence, Nicolas kept his gaze fixed on the empty doorway where she had vanished, an unfamiliar hollowness spreading through his chest and tightening with every second.
Brushing it off with a faint scoff, he convinced himself it meant nothing, that the unease was merely the result of growing accustomed to her constant, clingy presence.
Given a few days, he thought coldly, once she tasted the harshness of life outside, she would come back to him on her own, humbled and desperate.
Stepping out of the hospital doors, Ashley felt the pale winter sunlight spill over her skin, its gentle warmth seeping into her bones in a way she had not experienced in years.
Pulling her phone from her bag, she keyed in a number she hadn't dared to touch in years.
The line connected almost at once, and a man's usually composed voice broke through, thick with sudden emotion.
"Ms. Dunn? Is… is that really you?"
Tilting her head back, Ashley stared into the clear, sunlit sky above her. Moisture clung to her lashes, yet her tone remained calm, almost resolute.
"It's me. I'm divorced. Come pick me up… take me home."
