The moment the words left my mouth, the air in the office went still.
Preston gasped, his jaw tight. "Juliet, what the hell has gotten into you? You want a divorce over something this trivial?"
He scoffed. "I thought you were capable of fulfilling your duties as a wife, but I never expected you to be this petty."
I retorted coldly, "Didn't you just say I was emotionally unstable? Why would you want a mentally unhinged woman to remain your Mrs. Blackwood?"
"Watch your tone!" Preston trembled with anger, but this was company headquarters. Conscious of his image as CEO, he swallowed his rage.
Abigail tilted her head, a thoughtful look on her face before her eyes lit up.
"Dad, if you divorce Mom, does that mean you can have a wedding with Camila?"
"That's great!" Caleb added. "Mom, hurry up and leave. We want Camila to be our new mom!"
After ten years, I had long grown accustomed to Preston's indifference.
But I never imagined the children I had fought to bring into this world would so easily accept another woman as their mother. The betrayal was a physical blow, stealing the air from my lungs.
Camila looked back and forth between Preston and me, finally sensing that something was seriously wrong. She stepped forward and gently took my hand.
"Juliet, please don't misunderstand. I never intended to interfere with your family."
"If you're uncomfortable, I can give the necklace back right now."
I pulled my hand away, my expression carefully blank.
"No need. It was always meant for you, wasn't it?"
The night before Preston and I were married, I overheard him praying to the moon.
He prayed that in his next life, he could be with Camila.
It was only then that I finally understood why the CEO of a corporate giant would marry me, a relative unknown, against everyone's advice.
It was because I had an uncanny resemblance to my cousin, Camila.
They had fallen in love in college and planned to marry right after graduation.
But on the eve of the ceremony, Camila left him, choosing to become a doctor for an international aid organization.
Her departure became a thorn in Preston's heart he could never remove. Camila was his first love, the one who got away.
He had wanted to drop everything and follow her, but as the heir to the Blackwood Group, his fate was sealed.
He had rebelled, but eventually caved to family pressure and took his place as CEO. It was then that he met me, a woman who looked far too much like Camila.
Our life together, so perfect on the surface, was really just an endless series of compromises and quiet misery.
He took all his pent-up resentment over losing her out on me.
As a man who valued his public image, Preston never raised his voice to me, nor did he ever lay a hand on me.
His punishment was far more subtle: endless criticism and cold, emotional neglect.
I can’t remember how many nights I cried myself to sleep, how many hours I spent lost in a fog of self-doubt.
When I had finally resolved to get a divorce, I discovered I was pregnant with twins.
If I had insisted on leaving then, I would have lost my children and seen my reputation shredded by the ensuing scandal.
My parents tried to persuade me.
They said Preston was the head of a business empire; being Mrs. Blackwood was a dream for countless women.
They warned that a divorce initiated by a high-society wife would ignite a massive scandal. It would throw the group into chaos and disgrace the family name.
Preston's parents promised that as long as I gave birth to an heir, my family would enjoy wealth and prosperity for generations.
Everyone told me to think of the bigger picture.
For the children. For my parents. For the company.
So I stayed. And I learned to endure.
