Chapter 3

003

On the hospital room TV, the entertainment news was broadcasting Derek's latest scandal with a rising pop starlet.

The two of them were wearing matching designer outfits, and looking closely, even their jewelry matched.

In front of the media cameras, the starlet flashed Derek a sweet smile, openly praising him. "Mr. Mercer is a true gentleman. He takes great care of me on set, and he's definitely my ideal type."

Derek put on his signature charming persona, wrapping his arm around her slender waist.

"Mia is an incredibly smart girl. Whoever becomes her boyfriend will be the luckiest man alive."

For an A-list superstar like Derek, this kind of scandal was just a casual appetizer.

Ever since Gigi married him, he was spotted entering luxury hotels with actresses and models every few days, grinding on dance floors at exclusive clubs, and manufacturing fake romances whenever he joined a new set.

Yet Gigi was never allowed to question any of it. Asking about it meant she was hindering his career and failing to understand his craft.

Even though when he was drowning in PR scandals, Gigi stayed up for days managing his crisis communications and neutralizing bad press.

Even though for every film he starred in, Gigi pulled every connection in her network to promote and back his projects.

In Derek's eyes, Gigi was just a useless, insecure woman who stayed home brooding over petty jealousy.

After Derek hung up, Gigi clutched her phone so hard her knuckles turned white.

She took a deep breath, her eyes rimmed in red as she turned to me. "Tessa, let's do it. Let's get divorced. I can't take this anymore!"

She placed a hand on my shoulder, gathering her courage. "It's just a divorce! Ripping off the Band-Aid is better than bleeding forever. If this goes on, both of us will lose our minds. Breakups hurt, but we have each other! We'll hold hands and get through this together!"

I nodded, offering her a faint, determined smile. "Okay!"

I texted Logan the time and place for the courthouse appointment, but hours passed without a reply.

It wasn't until late evening, when I was lying exhausted in the hospital bed after the loss, that his message finally popped up.

"One of Cynthia's newborn kittens has an intestinal blockage. We drove it to a specialist clinic in the neighboring city for treatment. We'll be back in three days."

I texted back simply, "Then let's move the divorce appointment to three days from now. Whenever works for you."

Seeing the word "divorce" again, his reply was instantly annoyed.

"I said enough, Tessa! You were never this unreasonable before!"

"I was willing to coax you once, so quit while you're ahead. Do you really find it amusing to threaten divorce all the time?"