Chapter 1

1.

After we secretly got married at City Hall, my lawyer husband would propose a formal wedding every time he and his childhood sweetheart unlocked a new position.

In three years, Jasper Thorne proposed to me three times.

And he stood me up three times.

The first time, his childhood sweetheart, Chloe, took a bottle of sleeping pills the night before our engagement party.

She was rushed to the ER to have her stomach pumped, and the doctors called it a “suspected suicide attempt.”

To “take care” of her, Jasper canceled our engagement party at The Plaza.

I was the one who had to stand on stage in my custom wedding gown and apologize to all our guests.

The second time was because Chloe had a sudden, severe panic attack on the day of our rehearsal dinner.

He turned the limo around and took her straight to New York-Presbyterian.

The third time was just last week.

Chloe “happened” to get into a “minor car accident” in Miami the day before the wedding.

I’ve cried. I’ve thrown fits.

But Jasper would just throw his hands up and feed me the same classic gaslighting bullshit.

“She’s like my sister. You’re my wife, you should understand that our relationship is purely platonic.”

After the third time, I was finally done.

I slid a divorce agreement in front of him.

“The mandatory separation period is over. Let’s go to the courthouse and finalize this.”

…

The second time Jasper skipped out on our wedding, it was at the party celebrating his 999th case win.

A lavish affair at a hotel in downtown Manhattan, meticulously planned for him by Chloe.

At the party, everyone assumed Chloe was his real girlfriend.

“Mr. Thorne and Ms. Brooks are childhood sweethearts. They’re a picture-perfect couple. It just wouldn’t be right if they didn’t kiss!”

“Yes! We want to see Mr. Thorne and Ms. Brooks kiss!”

The chants reached my ears.

I, the official “Mrs. Thorne” who had been legally married to him for three years but never publicly acknowledged, could only shrink into a corner.

I watched as he gazed at Chloe with affection before their lips met.

After the party, afraid of our relationship being exposed, I waited for Jasper on a street corner near the hotel.

A black Cadillac slowly pulled up. The window rolled down, revealing Chloe’s sleeping face in the passenger seat.

Jasper looked at me, his tone as entitled as ever.

“Just grab a cab back to Long Island. I have to take Chloe back to her apartment first.”

I looked down, saying nothing.

Jasper had severe OCD and mysophobia; he never allowed any foreign smells in his car.

Once, he pissed off a major Wall Street client with his stubbornness.

I was the one who had to drink until I nearly coughed up blood at a dinner, apologizing on his behalf.

But afterward, he frowned at me with disgust.

“The smell of vomit on you is disgusting. Figure out your own way home.”

That day, he left me alone in the middle of a blizzard in the suburbs.

It took me four hours to walk home.

But now, a drunk Chloe was sleeping peacefully in his passenger seat, her shoes even propped up on the dashboard.

So, his rules were only for me.

I forced a bitter smile, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Are you still coming to the wedding rehearsal tomorrow?”

Jasper hesitated for a moment.

“I’ll have to look after Chloe tonight, so I won’t make it tomorrow. Let’s just skip it.”

My heart went cold, but I just nodded slightly. “Okay.”

I paused, then pulled a document from my Hermès bag and handed it to him.

“Sign this.”

Perhaps out of guilt, Jasper didn’t even look at it. He grabbed his Montblanc pen and signed his name.

Then he looked at me, promising softly.

“I’ll bring you a bagel from that place on the West Side you love when I come home tomorrow.”

With that, he drove off.

……

It was noon the next day when Jasper finally came home.

He stood in front of the full-length mirror, peeling off the shirt stained with Chloe’s lipstick and tossing it into the hamper.

Suddenly, he froze. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes meeting mine in the reflection as I sat on the edge of the bed.

“What was that document you had me sign yesterday?”

I looked up, a complex emotion flickering in my eyes before they turned indifferent again.

“You didn’t ask when you signed it, and now you remember?”

“It just popped into my head. Besides, you’re my wife. You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

Jasper flashed that confident smile, the one he always wore in the courtroom.

I lowered my gaze to hide the sarcasm in my eyes.

“Aren’t you afraid it was our divorce papers? Or a contract transferring all your assets?”

Jasper’s heart skipped a beat. His brows furrowed in a mix of panic and annoyance.

“Honey, are you joking with me?”

He walked over, gently cupping my face in his hands, his voice soft but firm.

“You know I’d go crazy if you ever left me.”

“If I had to choose between the two, I’d rather it be the asset transfer.”

Jasper looked at me, his eyes filled with an undeniable passion.

I knew he meant it when he said he couldn’t live without me. The emotion was real.

Which is why my “joke” was also real.

What I had him sign was, in fact, the legal agreement to dissolve our marriage.

Five years of pursuit, three years of marriage.

Jasper and I were finally over.