After We Said Goodbye

I built my wife’s family business from the ground up, sacrificing everything so that her world could thrive.

The night I collapsed from stomach bleeding after too many business drinks, she was out laughing with her childhood sweetheart. She even had the nerve to call me dull and uptight.

I smiled when I finally handed her the divorce papers.

“I wish you both a happy life together.”

But instead of signing it, she tore it to pieces, tears in her eyes.

“I’m not letting you go,” she said.

I leaned back against the sofa, a small suitcase resting beside me.

On the table in front of me lay the divorce papers.

From the doorway came the sound of movement—Angela Band and her mother, Greta Mormont, had finally returned.

When they saw me, both looked slightly surprised.

“Why are you home so early today?”

Angela asked casually before heading straight into the bedroom, while Greta went into the kitchen.

“You just sit there doing nothing the moment you come home? You can’t even think of making dinner?” she said, holding a pot lid in one hand and a small piece of cake in the other.

“Get something prepared now. I’ve been shopping all day and I’m exhausted. After dinner, I want to take a long bath and rest.”

But this time, I didn’t move. I didn’t obey like I always did.

“Angela, come out,” I called out. “I need to talk to you.”

“What is it? Can’t it wait until after dinner? I want to try on my new clothes first.”

“It’s important.”

She came out reluctantly. “What is it?”

I pushed the divorce papers across the table toward her.

“Let’s get a divorce.”

“Is this because of Ben? I already told you, there’s nothing between us—it was just harmless fun!”

I closed my eyes. “I’m tired, Angela. Please, just let me go.”

Ben Fowler had been Angela’s childhood sweetheart, and even after our marriage, Greta never stopped trying to bring them together.

“Fine,” Greta said sharply.

“Get the divorce done quickly. Once it’s over, Angela can finally marry Ben.”

I took out my wallet and began removing the cards one by one.

“This one’s for the company’s profit dividends. This is for the utilities. These are your brand membership cards. And these—business contact cards for our partner companies.”

Finally, I slipped off my wedding ring and placed it on top of the divorce papers.

“And this.”

She picked up the papers, and the ring slipped from her grasp, rolling across the floor until it disappeared somewhere out of sight.

Then she tore the divorce papers, her teeth clenched as she hissed through trembling lips, “You. Wish!”

I picked up my suitcase and walked toward the door.

“I wish you and Ben a lifetime of happiness,” I said.

Angela shrieked, her voice sharp. “Stop right there! If you’re really leaving, those clothes you’re wearing are mine too. Leave them behind!”

I gave a small laugh.

“All right.”

One by one, I