They'd contacted me a year ago, said they'd always keep an executive position open for me.
I only turned it down because Smokey didn't want to live with my parents.
Now that I'd reached out, they agreed immediately.
After that, I filed for a mandatory divorce and asked the staff to mail our marriage certificates separately—mine and Smokey's—five days from now.
By then, I'd already be gone. Even if she got angry, I had no interest in watching.
Smokey didn't message until evening.
In the past, whenever we fought, I'd give her two hours max to come around. Maybe she sensed how serious I was this time, because her tone was much softer.
"Honey, I took Derek to see a psychologist today. The doctor said his condition has improved a lot. One more month of treatment and he'll basically be recovered."
"Don't worry. Once Derek's better, he'll go back to his hometown. Then I'll settle down and live properly with you."
"I brought you a gift when I came back."
I didn't reply. Just turned off my phone.
Before, she still had some value worth salvaging.
But now?
Someone already tainted—I don't want anymore.
When Smokey came home, I was taking down the wedding photo from the wall.
Burning all of them.
Looking at this home I'd traded everything for, my eyes stung.
They say getting drunk helps you stop being sad.
But I'd been drinking all day, and I still couldn't shake the weight in my chest.
Seeing this, Smokey rushed over and stomped out the fire. She grabbed what remained of a photo, eyes red, and demanded:
"Alex, are you insane? Why are you burning our photos!"
I shoved her away. "The home's already gone—what's the point of keeping them!"
She stumbled back, and anger flashed across her face.
"Alex, I told you—Derek and I are just friends. Why do you keep trapping yourself in your own head!"
"The moment he's better, even if he doesn't say anything, I'll make him leave this city myself. You won't have to see him again!"
"It's just one more month. We've been married three years—don't you trust me at all? You can't even wait that long!"
"And I told you not to drink at home. Not only did you drink yourself into this state, you pushed me. I even brought you a gift!"
She hurled the gift box at me.
It didn't miss—hit me right on the forehead.
Blood ran down instantly, and the impact knocked me backward.
The back of my head cracked against the table's edge. More blood.
Her expression shifted to panic. She rushed over to help me up.
"Honey, are you okay? Don't scare me!"
In all my memory, this was the first time she'd shown this much concern.
But I didn't need it anymore.
I pushed her away.
"Don't touch me. You disgust me..."
This time, the anger on her face flickered and faded, replaced by worry. She called an ambulance.
"Hold on. They'll be here soon. I'll take you to the hospital."
But moments later, her phone rang.
Derek's wounded voice came through:
"Smokey, I just went downstairs to buy something and a dog chased me. My body won't stop shaking. I feel like I want to die. Where... where are you?"
Smokey's face tensed immediately.
"Derek, don't panic. Stay home. I'm coming right now!"
After hanging up, she looked at me. Her eyes were full of conflict.
In the end, she made her choice.
"Alex, I already called you an ambulance. When they get here, they'll take you to the hospital."
