3.
I contacted a moving company online, quick and clean.
"I'll be gone in an hour."
Oliver's face went dark with fury. He kept yelling at me through gritted teeth.
"Jennifer, you don't actually think this little stunt is going to threaten me, do you?"
"I would never beg you to stay. Go check whether you've finished packing your things. The last thing I want is you using some excuse to come crawling back to me later."
It came out of him so easily, as if he had no idea the words were meant to humiliate me. He stormed upstairs, still fuming.
Bella didn't follow. She stayed, watching me eat in silence, suspicion in her eyes.
"Miss Fox, are you really leaving?"
I looked at her, unbothered. "Miss White would rather I didn't?"
She said nothing.
I let out a soft laugh. "Bella, you had him bring you here because you wanted to push things further between you two, didn't you?"
Still she stayed silent.
I went on. "In that case, there's no need to do anything unnecessary."
Her brow tightened slightly, but she was smart enough to drop the subject. Instead she brought up the courier package I'd received earlier that day.
"Miss Fox, what was in that delivery?"
"Divorce papers."
Her voice jumped in surprise. "You're serious?"
I didn't answer, but she clearly believed it. The joy on her face was impossible to hide.
Just then Oliver came storming back down the stairs, glaring at me, saying nothing.
I kept eating, calm as ever.
Bella took his hand and said gently, "Oliver, Miss Fox sent you divorce papers."
"Divorce papers?"
He frowned, his eyes angrier than before.
"Jennifer, moving out of the house wasn't enough? Now you're sending me divorce papers too? You don't think this is going to make me cave, do you?"
He took too much for granted, and his anger made no sense.
I was the one filing for divorce, handing him and Bella their love story on a plate, and he acted like I was playing some game of hard to get.
I couldn't be bothered. I only reminded him quietly, "Remember to sign the papers and send them back to me."
Veins stood out at his temple. He clenched his fists and said in a cold, low voice, "Jennifer, once I sign, you'd better not regret it."
"I'm doing a good deed here. Of course I won't."
I didn't spare him another glance.
He kicked the couch hard, then called his assistant to open the package and forward him the divorce agreement.
Once he'd read it through, he questioned me coldly.
"Jennifer, you were my wife for three years. And you want nothing?"
"There's nothing between us. Nothing here belongs to me."
"You don't even want the house you lived in for three years?"
"It's the house your parents arranged. It belongs to you. I just happened to have the right to live in it for a while."
His brow stayed knotted, his eyes fixed on me, complicated. He looked reluctant, and also, somehow, relieved.
I couldn't read it. I only confirmed, evenly, "When will you sign?"
"When I have time."
"Not today?"
"You're in that much of a hurry to divorce me?"
I looked at him calmly. Silence said more than words.
He lowered his eyes and gave a low laugh. "Tomorrow, then."
"Fine."
Right as I answered, the moving company arrived.
They were startlingly efficient. In no more than ten minutes, all my things were packed and out.
I said a proper goodbye to Narelle and left the mansion. But Oliver came running out after me.
