After my husband favored the female doctor,I am divorced

Natalie’s eyes reddened as she nestled pitifully in Zayn’s arms. “Zayn, your wife really is quite the actress. She’s so vicious that she can even curse her own sister.”

A sharp pain shot through my chest. “Natalie, you know how much that box means to me—”

“Have you made enough of a scene?” Zayn’s voice was cold, his gaze even colder. “Look at yourself—filthy from head to toe, reeking of garbage. Where do you still look like Mrs. Flynn? Get out. Now.”

I stared at the man I had loved for seven years, the man who now stood protectively beside another woman without hesitation.

It felt as if a rough rope had wrapped around my heart, tightening until the dull ache swallowed me whole.

From beginning to end, Zayn had only ever chosen Natalie. To him, I was nothing more than a dispensable joke.

Zayn’s brows furrowed tightly before he barked an order for the bodyguards to throw me out.

As I struggled to stand, a pair of high heels appeared before my eyes.

Natalie looked down at me with open disdain, the corners of her lips curling into a cruel smile.

“Weren’t you dying to know what happened to what was inside that box?” she asked sweetly.

I froze, forcing myself to breathe evenly.

The next second, Natalie lifted a clay figurine shaped like a pig and dangled it before me.

“Look,” she said, mockingly cheerful, “I used that to mold this little pig. Doesn’t it look just like your dead sister?"

My vision went red.

Natalie laughed, delighted by my reaction. “No need to thank me. I just thought I’d help restore your sister’s beauty, that’s all. Too bad I ran out of material halfway—otherwise, I could’ve made it look even more real.”

My whole body trembled with rage as I lunged to grab it, but Natalie easily dodged aside.

She sneered, her tone dripping with mockery. “What’s the rush? I haven’t even finished my masterpiece yet.”

As she spoke, Natalie pulled a black marker from her pocket and began scribbling across the pig-shaped figurine’s back — words that made my blood run cold. “Shameless woman.” “Cheap slut.”

When she was done, she held the pig up proudly for me to see.

“Well? What do you think?” she asked, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “Imagine—hands trained to hold a scalpel, now wasting time scribbling for your pathetic family. You should feel grateful.”

I stared at her, grief and fury clawing at my chest. “Give it back to me.”

That was my sister’s ashes — I couldn’t lose her again.

But Natalie only let out a low, disdainful laugh. “Oh, you like it that much? Then…”

Before I could move, she flung the figurine hard toward the road. It hit the pavement with a dull thud — rolling straight into the street.

Natalie’s voice rang out, sharp and cruel. “If you’ve got the guts, go pick it up yourself — right there in the middle of traffic!”

She tossed her hair back, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes and walked away without a trace of remorse.

I stood frozen, trembling with rage and disbelief. Just as I rushed forward, a massive truck roared past — crushing the clay figurine to dust before my eyes.

For a moment, my heart simply stopped.

Kneeling on the cold pavement, I gathered the shattered remains piece by piece, my tears blurring everything. When I finally lifted my head, my gaze landed on the massive screen across the street—it was playing the video from two days ago.

In the video, Zayn stood beside me, smiling as we celebrated my birthday—playing the part of the perfect husband for all to see.

Countless people envied “Mrs. Flynn.” But behind that illusion was nothing but ruin.

If Zayn had never cared for me, then I would stop forcing myself to stay.

I took out my phone, wiped my tears and booked a flight for the next afternoon — 2 p.m., to Rosehill.

When I finally returned home with my sister’s ashes in my arms, I froze in the doorway.

Zayn was kneeling on one knee before Natalie, his expression soft and intent as he carefully wiped her smooth feet with a towel.

A dull ache spread through my chest, sour and suffocating.

In all our seven years of marriage, Zayn had never once treated me with such gentleness.

And now, all that tenderness belonged to Natalie.