After the Divorce, She Can Have It All

Three days later, at Juan’s request, Susan accompanied him to a project event.

In the car, Susan finally submitted her resignation.

But Juan didn’t even glance at it; he simply signed. Susan instinctively asked, “Don’t you want to take a look?”

“They’re just some unimportant documents you’ve been assigned to handle,” Juan replied flatly, pinching his temple. “I’m too lazy to read.”

Susan smiled and said nothing more.

When they arrived at the restaurant and sat down, Ashley plopped down beside Juan, who carefully poured her tea.

Mr. Chuck, a business partner, smiled and said, “Is this your wife? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Juan didn’t deny it but simply gave a faint smile. Susan quietly sat in the corner, feeling insignificant—treated like a mere intern.

The middle-aged man next to her repeatedly took advantage of the situation by toasting her.

Juan seemed oblivious. He was preoccupied with shielding Ashley from drinking. “She’s allergic to alcohol and can’t drink,” he said.

Mr. Chuck looked displeased. “Mr. Parkston, since we’re sincerely discussing cooperation and Mrs. Parkston isn’t drinking a single glass—isn’t that a bit disrespectful to me?”

“If you want Mrs. Parkston to drink your glass of wine, fine.” Juan raised his eyelids and waved at Susan. “She’s my wife, Susan.”

The atmosphere at the table froze and almost everyone turned their eyes toward the corner. Juan had acknowledged her identity only to use her to shield Ashley from drinking.

But Juan had completely forgotten that Susan had given up alcohol long ago—after drinking herself into gastric bleeding earlier that year to secure a project. Mr. Chuck placed a bottle of baijiu directly in front of her.

“Mr. Parkston, I specifically asked Miss Ashley to drink with me, but you wanted to change her,” he said. “Since we’re changing, then naturally the number of glasses must change as well.”

“This bottle—half for you and half for me. Isn’t that fair?”

Susan clenched her glass tightly and instinctively glanced at Juan. She hoped he would say something—anything—in her favor.

But all she saw was Juan’s indifferent face and concerned tone, “Next time there are occasions like this, always bring Susan with you. She’s quite the drinker.”

Susan smiled sadly and downed the entire bottle of alcohol in one go. Not for any noble reason, but because she’d followed this project for two years.

There were only a dozen days left before the divorce cooling-off period ended. She wanted to wrap up the project properly before leaving.

By the end of the drink, her stomach was burning and even Susan’s breath smelled of rust and blood. But without anyone telling her to stop, she didn’t dare. She drank cup after cup, her vision spinning, until she finally couldn’t hold back and vomited violently.

Amidst the filth, a glaring red pool appeared.

Everyone panicked. “Susan, are you okay? You’ve been drinking until you vomited blood!”

Finally, Susan saw Juan’s expression change drastically. He suddenly stood up and rushed toward her.

A colleague grabbed Susan’s arm, eyes filled with helplessness.

“Susan, tell me—you're about to resign. Why are you drinking like this?”

“Resign?” Juan’s voice suddenly exploded from behind. “What do you mean by resign?”

Susan was forced to look up, meeting Juan’s dark, stormy gaze.

His face was livid. “Susan, are you resigning?”

Susan was terrified and instinctively concealed the truth. “No. He got the wrong person. It’s another assistant who’s resigning.”