A New Beginning After Divorce

Linda carefully set the car door closed, the silence inside thick and suffocating.

Shane, back from a business trip and immediately heading to the his residence, was clearly weary. He rubbed his temples, his hand resting on the steering wheel, and said with a hint of impatience, "How long are you going to keep this up?"

His words confirmed her fears: he saw this as nothing more than a tantrum.

A chill settled in Linda's heart. Straightening her posture, she stared ahead, her voice barely a whisper, "Shane, I'm serious. I don't want to be with you anymore."

Shane turned his head sharply, his gaze piercing.

He possessed a striking handsomeness, features sharply defined. Once, Linda had been completely captivated by his face, but now, she felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.

His dark eyes locked on her as he unfastened his seatbelt with a sharp click. "Get out of the car."

The sound of the car locking echoed in the sudden silence.

Linda immediately obeyed, stepping out of the vehicle and heading towards the villa's entrance. The light illuminated her back, straight and unyielding, a reflection of her firm decision to seek a divorce.

Shane waited long enough to finish a cigarette before exiting the car and following her inside.

The separation had begun, cold and unresolved.

That night, Linda took the guest room, and Shane, consumed by anger, made no attempt to coax her back. He changed into his pajamas and lay down, but the emptiness beside him felt unsettling, unfamiliar.

He was used to Linda's presence, always seeking his warmth from behind, no matter how distant he seemed.

The next morning, sunlight streamed into the bedroom.

Shane instinctively raised a hand to shield his eyes, awakening fully.

Faint sounds drifted up from downstairs.

He recognized the sounds of the maid preparing the dining room. Usually, Linda would assist, personally preparing his breakfast.

A sense of hope flickered within Shane. He rose and headed to the walk-in closet to dress.

Then, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Linda's suitcase was gone.

Shane threw open the wardrobe. Sure enough, several of her usual outfits were missing.

After a silent moment, he closed the wardrobe and changed into his business attire. He quickly washed and, while fastening his watch, descended the stairs. He casually asked the maid, "Where is my wife?"

The maid answered cautiously, "The lady left early this morning with her suitcase, without even asking for the driver."

"Well, good for her!" Shane retorted.

He ignored the situation, settling at the table to consume his usual black coffee and whole-wheat toast.

His eyes were drawn to the newspaper headlines.

It was filled with gossip about him and Maria, the titles sensationally eye-catching. Shane stared at them for a long time before quietly asking the maid, "Did she read the newspaper before she left?"

The maid replied honestly, "Madam left without having breakfast."

Shane glanced up at her, then snatched his phone and dialed Secretary Esther, "Take care of those newspaper stories!"

He was about to hang up after a few brief instructions.

Shane's slender fingers loosened his tie, his voice deceptively calm, "Also, find out where Linda sold her wedding ring. I want it back by 4 p.m."

Secretary Esther was stunned.

After a long pause, she whispered, "That's impossible! Mrs. Linda loves you so much; why would she sell her wedding ring?"

Shane's only response was to disconnect the call.

He threw the phone onto the table, his appetite completely gone as he stared at the offending news.

...

Linda returned to her mother's house, where Beatrice was preparing soup to take to the hospital.

Upon seeing Linda, Beatrice's composure faltered.

She pointed at the suitcase, her tone accusatory, "What couple doesn't argue? It's normal for men to stray occasionally. That Maria looks so pathetic and has a limp... I even inquired about her; she won't affect your position at all. There's no need to get a divorce. "

"What position am I even gaining with Shane?!"

Linda gave a bitter laugh as she packed the pigeon soup into a thermos, "I'm going to the hospital to see Dad later."

Beatrice continued to stare.

Finally, Beatrice wiped her hands on a rag and said angrily, "Your father will be furious if he finds out you're getting a divorce! Linda... Maybe you should reconsider. Even if you really can't live with him, how will you survive after the divorce? This family is barely hanging on as it is. What will you use to support it?"

Linda slowly tightened the lid of the thermos.

After securing it, she softly spoke, her head bowed, "There has to be a solution! Selling the wedding rings will cover half a year of Dad's medical bills and my brother's legal fees... I'll sell the house, too, and get a job to support the family."

Tears welled up in Linda's eyes.

This house was her mother's legacy, something she had never considered selling, no matter how dire the circumstances.

Beatrice was taken aback.

She offered no more encouragement but still disagreed with the drastic measures.

After composing herself, Linda and Beatrice proceeded to the hospital.

Jacob Adams's condition had stabilized following treatment, although he remained disheartened, constantly worrying about his eldest son, Colt's future.

Linda decided to postpone mentioning the divorce for now.

That afternoon, the attending physician came for his rounds.

Harold Blake, a young and accomplished doctor of medicine, was a leading expert in neurosurgery. Tall (185cm) and handsome, he possessed a refined demeanor.

After his examination, he glanced at Linda and suggested, "Let's talk outside."

Linda looked surprised.

She immediately set down what she was holding and said softly to her father, "Dad, I'll be right back."

Soon, they were in a quiet corridor.

Sensing her nervousness, Harold offered a reassuring smile.

Then, looking down at the case file, he began, "Last night, I consulted with several surgical directors, and we unanimously recommend customized rehabilitation for Mr. Adams to maximize his recovery. However, the cost is considerable, approximately 150,000 dollars per month."

For Linda, 150,000 dollars was an exorbitant amount.

But without hesitation, she responded, "We'll proceed with the treatment."

Harold closed the file and looked at her intently.

They had actually known each other for a long time, but Linda had forgotten.

When Linda was very young, he had lived next door. He remembered the terrace outside her bedroom illuminated with small stars every summer evening, where Linda would sit, thinking of her mother.

She would ask him, "Harold, will Mom come back?"

Harold didn't know and couldn't answer. Now, looking at her, he recalled seeing her wedding three years ago when he returned to Washington. He had assumed she was marrying for love, but it seemed she was unhappy.

Shane was treating her coldly and harshly.

Harold was about to speak when a cold voice cut through the air, "Linda."

It was Shane.

Dressed in business attire – a dark gray shirt and black suit – Shane looked like he had come straight from the office. The crisp sound of his calfskin shoes echoed as he walked towards them.

Shane approached them.

Extending his hand with a hint of casualness, he said, "Harold, long time no see!"

Harold looked at the offered hand, smiled subtly, and shook it. "Mr. Shane, a rare visitor!"

Shane released his grip and glanced at Linda. "Visiting Dad?"

An unspoken tension simmered between the two men.

Linda, oblivious to the undercurrent, disliked creating a scene with Shane in front of Dr. Harold, so she simply nodded. "Dr. Harold , I'll go now."

Harold gave a slight smile.

Linda walked with Shane toward the ward in silence.

Since she was planning a divorce, she no longer felt compelled to ingratiate herself with him as she once had.

Near the ward door, Shane suddenly seized Linda's slender wrist, trapping her between himself and the wall. His eyes were a mix of emotions.

Just now, the way Harold had looked at Linda was the way a man looks at a woman.

Shane gently touched Linda's face, noticing how white and delicate it was.

His voice, slightly husky, asked, "What did you say to him?"

Linda tried to pull away, but Shane tightened his grip, pressing her back against the wall.

They were now intimately close, a stark contrast between hardness and softness.