Chapter 3

3.

Before marrying Giselle, I wrote two hit serialized thrillers online that dominated the bestseller charts.

Even now, those books remained on the platform’s recommended classics list.

Once I committed to Giselle, though, I poured all my energy into supporting her and abandoned my own writing.

When she started writing novels, I worked long corporate hours by day and stayed up late editing and polishing her manuscripts at night.

Even the novel that just won her the award was born from a creative brainstorming session we had, where I laid out the entire plot outline for her.

When she first heard the book was nominated for the award, she had sobbed in my arms, kissing me over and over.

“Babe, this is all thanks to you. If I win, I’m going to tell the world what an incredible husband I have.”

Now, looking back, those promises were utterly worthless.

“Rowan? Are you still there?” Leo’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Did you hear what your wife said at the gala? It made my blood boil for you! If you’re still making excuses for her, I swear I’m cutting you off.”

I snapped back to reality and gave a light chuckle.

“I already asked for a divorce. And as for writing again―I’m in.”

Leo paused in shock before cheering enthusiastically.

“Man, did your romantic delusions finally clear up? Drinks are on me tonight to celebrate!”

“Deal,” I agreed immediately.

Ever since I got together with Giselle, I barely had any personal life left.

I had drifted away from almost all my old friends.

That evening, while Leo and I were catching up over beers, Giselle’s name lit up my phone screen.

I flipped the phone face down, put it on silent, and ignored it completely.

Leo raised an eyebrow. “Looks like you’re truly done this time.”

I smiled faintly and changed the subject.

When I got back to my apartment, I saw dozens of missed calls from Giselle.

Opening my messaging app, there was a flood of unread texts.

Skimming through them, they were all asking where I went and why I wasn’t at home.

I muted her notifications, took a shower, and went straight to bed.

First thing the next morning, I handed my resignation letter to my manager at the office.

I never actually loved this corporate finance job, but it paid exceptionally well.

Back when Giselle had zero income, I needed a high-paying salary to pay our bills and mortgage.

Once her books started selling, she paid off the rest of the mortgage in one lump sum.

Still, I stayed at the company just in case she hit another rough patch.

Thanks to the savings I accumulated over the last two years, I could now quit without hesitation.

When my manager reviewed my resignation, he asked with concern about Giselle and me.

Everyone at the office knew I stayed in this demanding role purely out of love for my wife, and the boss often joked that he had Giselle to thank for keeping such a hard worker.

Seeing me suddenly quit, he naturally guessed something had gone wrong.

“We’re getting a divorce,” I stated frankly.

My boss paused, sighed, and said honestly, “So it really came to this.”

“To be honest, two months ago while on a business trip, I saw your wife checking into a boutique hotel with another man. I just didn’t know how to bring it up to you back then.”

I froze for a moment. Two months ago, Giselle claimed she needed to travel out of state for a week to find creative inspiration.

During that week, she rarely answered my calls or replied to my texts.

When she returned, she wore an oversized men’s designer dress shirt, claiming she had bought it for me while shopping.

I had kept that shirt carefully tucked away in my closet until the day I moved out.

Now, hearing my boss mention the hotel, I suddenly remembered seeing Garrett wear that exact same designer brand in multiple photos.

In that instant, any remaining mercy vanished, replaced by a firm resolve to make Giselle leave with nothing.

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