He Doesn’t Love Me

My billionaire husband suffered from chronic insomnia for years. Only the sleep balm I made could help him sleep.

On the night of our seventh wedding anniversary, his childhood sweetheart poured a basin of scalding water over the old camphor tree in our garden.

I wept and tried to save the tree as she apologized, “I didn’t know you used its leaves to make the sleep balm.”

My husband gently comforted her and ordered his men to tie me to the tree trunk instead.

“What a precious tree. You’ll spend the rest of your days with it!”

With my wrist fractured as a result, I filed for divorce immediately.

A month later, my husband was unable to sleep late one night. He stood in the garden and stared at the withered camphor tree.

Charles Lennon finally came home after we gave each other the silent treatment for seven days.

The dark circles under his eyes really stood out.

“Hasn’t it been a while since you made any sleep balm?”

Charles suffered from severe insomnia and had always relied on this balm to sleep through the night. I would make it from the leaves of an old camphor tree.

However, I kept scrolling through my phone and answered indifferently, “Well, I’ve been slacking off.”

It was true. The raw materials for the sleep balm came solely from the garden in my old house. I used to go back every week to gather the leaves from the tree. It would take me half a day each time, which was exhausting.

“Sharon didn’t mean any harm. You’re crossing the line if you keep stirring up trouble.”

He took some fruit wine out of the refrigerator and sipped it as he spoke.

While we were not on speaking terms, Sharon Simpson had come up with a new idea and brought him fruit wine to help him sleep.

He dropped ice cubes into his glass and glanced at me. “Sharon didn’t know how much that tree meant to you. To make up for it, she found an estate that produces spices.

“I’ve arranged for it to be purchased. I’ll put it under your name, so let’s put this matter behind us.”

I almost laughed. He used our assets to buy an estate so that his secretary could make it up to me.

‘What a wonderful husband,’ I thought to myself as I tried to stay polite. “Fine. Do thank ‘Mrs. Lennon’ on my behalf.”

For the first time since he came home, Charles made a face and looked at me with impatience. “Hazel, is there anything else you can do apart from being jealous?”

I met his gaze calmly. “I can get a divorce.

“If you have the time to buy estates with your little girlfriend, you have the time to sign the divorce papers. Hurry up already.

“You usually don’t take seven days to sign something, Charles.”

He stared at me for a few seconds before losing all interest in chatting further. Instead, he