All Chapters of Sorry, We're Divorced: Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

Zion worked in a private hospital located in the Utopia States. He pondered for a moment before answering. "Well, it depends on how they usually behave. For instance, are they perpetually in a somber mood? Are their minds clouded with negative thoughts? Are they unable to muster interest in anything? Did they give up on all their old hobbies? Do they spend their days doing nothing, staying inside, and just lying in bed?"Why are you asking? Are you depressed?"Quentin snapped, "Yeah, right!"Zion was rendered speechless. "How rude!" Quentin inquired, "What if that person still has all their hobbies, goes out a lot, and occasionally acts provocatively? Also, they only occasionally have suicidal tendencies. Could they be depressed?"Exasperated, Zion adjusted his glasses. "I believe you might've misunderstood me, Mr. Lowe. Let me put it this way; depression steals the light from a person's eyes. Their minds are filled with sadness and negative thoughts, and they prefer to be alone

Noelle slept soundly through the night and woke up to the enticing aroma of food. She sniffed the air and wondered where the aroma was coming from. It smelled like eggs benedict. Her appetite was instantly aroused.Then, she heard sizzling sounds coming from the kitchen. Noelle hurried downstairs and noticed a stall figure working in the kitchen. Quentin wore an apron and was deftly poaching eggs in simmering water. Noelle was a little surprised. When did he learn to make this? She had only ever tasted authentic eggs benedict like these in Southern City, where she watched the chef at a brunch spot expertly poach eggs and whip up hollandaise sauce to perfection.Soon, the food was ready. Quentin carefully plated it on an exquisite porcelain plate and brought it to the dining table. "Give it a try and see if you like it." He had gone out of his way to contact a friend in Southern City, who in turn got in touch with the chef from the brunch spot Noelle had posted on her social media

Sawyer memorized her name. "Will you be here tomorrow?" Noelle nodded. His face lit up with a smile at that. Just then, a tall figure with a black umbrella walked over and stopped right in front of them, standing in their way.Sawyer didn't even spare him a glance and said, "Excuse me, sir!"Quentin paused for a moment before saying, "Elle, I'm here to take you home." He held himself back from yanking Sawyer aside.Noelle's brow drew together as she looked at the man who had suddenly appeared. Sawyer sized Quentin up. "Do you know him?"Noelle smiled. "His mom is a good friend of my mom."There was a time when she dreamed of him holding her hand, proudly announcing her identity to the world, and professing his love for her. Now, that dream had soured, and she didn't want anyone to know she was married.On one hand, it was because Quentin had slowly but surely ruined their relationship. On the other hand, when she walked into the library and saw so many of her peers studying

"What would you like to eat?" Quentin asked as he walked out. Noelle answered, "Spaghetti!" He responded, "I'll make some for you."The couple arrived at the kitchen. He took a pot and filled it halfway with water under the faucet. Then, he poured flour onto the kitchen counter to make pasta dough. The flour was dusted all over the man. Quentin glanced at his now-flour-covered, brand-new loungewear and frowned. Her lips twitched. Noelle couldn't believe that he had made such a mess in the short time it took her to answer a phone call. Moreover, with that much flour, how many eggs would they need to make the pasta dough, and how much spaghetti were they planning to make? How long would this take them?Quentin, on the other hand, was still enthusiastically pouring flour onto the kitchen counter. He accidentally poured too much flour, so he started cracking open more eggs. Then, he added too many egg yolks, so he added more flour again.His fingers were now stuck in the dough,

"But your seniors haven't seen Xyla with their own eyes, have they?" Quentin's forehead creased. "I'm sure you're aware that we can't jump to conclusions about things we haven't witnessed with our own eyes!"Noelle looked at him and suddenly clammed up. She was afraid that his next words would be, "Do you have to brand Xy as a liar to feel better?" Much like the day he asked her, "Why are you so dead set on pushing Xy to the brink?""Alright." She spun around and left in disappointment. Quentin felt conflicted as he watched her get into a cab. When did she become so stubborn?Just then, his phone rang. He noticed the caller ID was Ava and answered it. Her voice was frantic. "This is bad, Mr. Lowe. Ms. Cadwell slit her wrist!"Quentin felt a jolt course through his body. Without a moment's hesitation, he sprinted toward the ward. Xyla was lying on the bed, her slender arm hanging over the edge. Blood was dripping from a gash on her wrist.His mind went blank, and he almost fell to