Dear Ex-husband, I'm Better Without You!

Let's get divorced?

...

"Welcome home, honey," Lily warmly greeted her husband, Roberto, as he walked in through the open double doors that led to the living room.

Dressed in a simple white gown that barely reached her ankles, with her hair held up in a side-braided ponytail, she had her hands clasped in front of her. Her body slightly swayed from side to side, a bright smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

She had just finished preparing dinner for two not long ago. Although he had never eaten her food, she always hoped he would try it one day.

Usually, he would at least acknowledge her habitual greeting with a nonchalant hum. But tonight, he wore a grave expression and his steps were noticeably hurried.

Still, she decided to try her luck for the nth time, "I made dinner. Would you..."

"I don't care about your horrible food!" he snapped, causing her to flinch.

"H-have you even tasted it?" she asked, trying to mask the hurt.

"Food made by a person I don't like is naturally horrible. Don't ever bother me again," with that, he charged up the stairs, leaving her rooted in her spot, speechless.

'Why is he acting like this?' she thought to herself in puzzlement.

She ignored the curious looks of the housemaids who had been attracted by her husband's earlier outburst, making a beeline for the dining section. She would eat alone, yet again.

It had been barely two years since they got married according to their families' arrangements.

For her part, Lily had long had feelings for Roberto since high school; he was her senior back then. She had thought how lucky it would be if she could end up as his spouse.

Hence, when her father, whose company was facing some sort of crisis at the time, asked her to marry him in exchange for the survival of their business, she readily agreed, thinking she would be able to conquer his heart in no time.

Unfortunately, up to this point, he had not shown any affection towards her; the only time she had witnessed him smile was on television broadcasts. She felt like he viewed her as a jinx who could drain away half of his lifespan if he smiled at her.

The food had tasted bland in her mouth. She couldn't bring herself to eat much, so she had one of the housemaids, return the rest to the kitchen.

Then she dispiritedly scaled up the stairs with draggy footsteps, her gaze at her feet, her hand placed on the banister. A swirl of pessimistic thoughts threatened to overwhelm her but she ultimately succeeded in dispelling them.

Now standing in the hallway, she looked longingly to her left, descrying a golden metal door in the distance. That was her husband's room- a place she had never stepped foot in ever since she moved into this mansion.

Dejectedly, she whirled on her heel, intending to make her way to her bedroom, only