1. We need to talk.

“You’re back!” I chirped the moment I caught sight of the figure standing by the doorway. Breaking into a bright smile, I felt my heart skip a few beats as I locked my gaze into the person’s deep obsidian orbs.

It was my husband—Edmund Grant, looking oh-so-gorgeous in his well-pressed custom navy blue suit. He looked extremely attractive without his eyeglasses, and his loosened tie gave off a bit of a rugged image. With his broad shoulders, lean muscular arms, and long legs, he looked nothing less than a movie star. He was a man with beauty, brains, and charisma.

To me, he was perfect, and I was blessed to have him in my life.

However, his familiar emotionless, and icy stare told me he thought otherwise. Not once had I ever seen him smile or respond positively to anything involving me.

“We need to talk,” he replied flatly, advancing to the carpeted living room.

I gulped. This line had been used a gazillion times between couples in real life, books, and movies—and it always meant bad news. Well, not that I was expecting something good from my indifferent spouse.

Biting my bottom lip, I took off my glasses and closed my laptop, scrutinizing the unusual emptiness in his expression. During our two years of marriage, I had already grown accustomed to his dominant and overbearing aura—enough to notice the slightest shift in his facial muscles, which spelled danger.

There must have been a good reason for the workaholic CEO of Grant Global to appear in our matrimonial home at three in the afternoon on a weekday.

“Sure. Do you want me to get you a drink first? It’s scorching outside. This summer seems a tad bit worse than last year. Water? Juice? Iced tea, perhaps?”

“No need,” Edmund declined, his eyes squinted ever so faintly as he settled on a single-seater sofa across from me.

Swallowing the tears that welled in my eyes, I sat back on the couch, following his lead. This had always been our arrangement—always six feet apart, as if I were some virus carrier that he badly needed to avoid.

I may have gotten used to his distant attitude, but that didn’t mean I had grown numb to the pain.

Marrying Edmund was a dream come true. I had loved him ever since I was sixteen, and if it hadn’t been for his grandmother, I might have remained one of his admirers, watching him from afar.

So when we tied the knot, I vowed that I would love him with all my heart until I took my final breath.

Smiling awkwardly, I probed, “Is there something wrong? Do you have problems in the company? I’m all ears, Edmund. I’ll help as much as I can.”

He snorted and then regarded me with a mocking grin. “Hold your horses, Margaret Sharpe. Do you think an unaccomplished gold-digger like you can do something for Grant Global? That must be the funniest joke I have ever heard.”

I looked away, the invisible thorns surrounding my heart slowly piercing through.

It had been two years. But he continued to believe that I only married into his family because of money. It was the same amount of time I had been tirelessly trying to win his heart.

Unfortunately, I was never able to accomplish such a feat. I was not discouraged, though. We had a lifetime ahead of us after all.

“So? What’s the big news?” I inquired, faking a smile, and making sure my voice sounded as lively as usual.

“We’re getting divorced.”

I froze for a few seconds and then blinked hard, my smile faltering. The words were loud and clear, but my mind refused to digest them. My chest heaved, each breath a challenge. The assaulting burn in my chest felt like he had stabbed me with a knife, twisted it without remorse, and finally cut it into pieces.

“W-What?”

“I’ll say this one more time, Margaret: We’re filing for a divorce.”

“B-But why?”

My hands trembled as I gripped the armrest of the sofa, staring at my husband’s handsome face. He was watching me as if I had uttered the most ridiculous question in the world. The contempt and abhorrence in his eyes were evident, a reminder of the very same look he had given me on our wedding day.

“I don’t have a say in this, do I?” I choked.

It had finally dawned upon me that despite all my earnest sincerity in performing my duties as his wife, his opinions never changed.

To him, I had always been that snake who had slithered my way into his life through underhanded means.

Edmund remained stoic, saying, “I will give you anything you want. The alimony would be enough to provide you with the lavish life you always dreamed of having. If you wish to work in one of Grant Global’s subsidiaries, you will be given preferential treatment, too.” He paused and smirked, then added, “Although, I highly doubt you’re capable of doing anything aside from seducing men and squandering money.”

I let out a hysterical laugh, almost manic, as tears brimmed in my mismatched green and blue eyes. The fact that Edmund remained unfeeling toward me was one thing I could tolerate since this marriage was arranged by his grandmother.

However, derogatory insults were another.

For the past years, I had endured the horrible perception of the people in his circle. I couldn’t even count the times I was humiliated and branded with dreadful names. And yet, he had never stepped up to defend me—even just to save face.

It turned out, they all started from his very own mouth.

I huffed. To vent the bubbling frustration in my chest, I roughly ran my fingers through my auburn locks. There was no one else to blame for my predicament—only me.

“All you need to do is sign the papers,” he prompted impatiently.

“And what if I don’t want to?” I challenged, gritting my teeth.

I had given up status and fame, swallowed my pride, and eluded my responsibilities just to be with him. All this time, I had been blindly hoping that Edmund would eventually see my good side so long as I remained steadfast in our marriage.

But I was wrong. It was stupid of me to believe that he would reciprocate my love one day.

He didn’t give a damn about the wedding vows we made!

Just like that, reality came crashing down on me like hail, cold and painfully bitter, in the sultry June weather.

I yearned and craved for his love and attention, but not once had I received it. Now that he wanted to reclaim his freedom, did he think it was so easy to do so just because he was offering me money?

How unoriginal.

I lifted my chin and smirked disdainfully. Folding my arms over my chest, I questioned, “Give me a reason to agree, Edmund. I enjoy being Mrs. Grant and have grown fond of the privileges I have as the madam of this affluent family. Why should I give it up for mere crumbs?”

Edmund glowered, eyes glinting precariously. “Do not provoke me, Margaret.”

“Did someone ever tell you how despicable you are, Edmund? You used our marriage as a ticket to get everything you have today. Grant Global wouldn’t be dancing to your tune had I not married you two years ago. Do not ever think of tossing me like some toy that has outlived its worth just because you already got what you wanted,” I mocked.

I watched my husband’s expression turn into a grim one. Even though it was only half the truth, I knew I had hit a nerve.

I met Edmund’s grandmother, Edith Grant, while volunteering at an orphanage. The old lady was fun and kind, so we immediately hit it off and organized philanthropic events together.

When Edith was diagnosed with stage four liver cancer, she was worried that Edmund would be left alone without a family to call his own. After all, he was an only child, and both his parents were dead.

Having received her favor and appreciation, I didn’t have the heart to decline Edith’s dying wishes when she asked me to marry Edmund even knowing that it would lead to a lot of misunderstanding. Instead, I was ecstatic to finally get a shot to be with the man I adored since my teenage years.

Edmund had acquiesced to his grandmother’s wishes in exchange for getting the full management rights of Grant Global. All his parents’ and Edith’s shares were transferred in his name, cementing his position in the company.

Our wedding was small and rushed. Only the closest business partners were invited. Regardless, it had made a buzz in high society, invoking the curiosity of the rich ladies of other influential families.

Edmund Grant used to be the most eligible bachelor in Pearl City, after all.

Two years. I endured for such a long time. Did he think I would silently accept his request?

“Do not force my hand, Margaret,” he warned with furrowed brows. His jaws were taut, and I knew that his patience was wearing thin.

However, this time, I had no plans of backing out.

Scoffing, I collected my laptop from the coffee table while fighting the tears that threatened to escape. Grinding my teeth, I met his eyes, saying, “Right back at you, Mr. Grant. Intimidation doesn’t work on me. I’ll be waiting for you to give me a proper reason to divorce. Otherwise, you’ll stay married to me until I get sick of you.”

“Margaret! Don’t be stubborn!”

“Oh, now you know a little something about me. Yet here I am thinking you have zero interest in your own wife,” I barked sarcastically.

“My lawyers will send you the papers.”

“Be my guest.”

Without sparing Edmund another glance, I went straight to my room, tossed my stuff on the bed, and cried my heart out. When I finally felt exhausted and my eye bags had doubled, I reached for my phone and called the person I had never talked with for the past two years.

“What’s up?” asked the man over the line, his voice soft, and the familiar doting tone was still there.

Warmth enveloped my heart, and I hiccupped as tears started forming again.

“Are you free? Want to hang out?” I asked in between sniffs.

“Of course. Anytime for you, darling.”

I had already seen this divorce coming. It was foolish of me to convince myself that I could salvage this relationship.

Edmund's hatred was relentless. But there was one thing he was mistaken about; I was not magnanimous enough to turn the other cheek.

How could I allow him to be happy and free after leaving me broken and miserable?

He could keep wishing!