Boss, I Want a Divorce!

Serena

"Get out here," Lucien said coldly as he braked the car.

My eyebrows shot up. "What? It's already late, Luce," I protested.

It was so heartbreaking-I was being kicked out after we'd just pretended to be a loving married couple in front of our Swiss clients during dinner. They showered us with praise, seeing us as the perfect, ideal couple.

It was all nonsense.

A rotten lie.

"There's a taxi up ahead. If you want, you can also order an Uber. Don't act like some country girl with a curfew," he snapped.

My mouth clamped shut. My chest felt hot and tight. I blinked, trying to dispel the fog that was beginning to cloud my eyes.

"Get out now, Ser!" Lucien's tone rose.

"Where are you even going?" I asked, clutching the seatbelt across my chest.

"None of your business," he replied flatly, his mouth half-closed.

My grip tightened. I glared at him so intensely my eyes narrowed. "I'm the one who manages your entire schedule. I remind you of everything-work or personal matters. And now you're telling me this isn't my business?"

Lucien's jaw clenched. He glared back at me, even more sharply. "So what?" he challenged.

"You want to meet Camille, don't you?" I accused him directly.

Lucien's jaw seemed to throb and clench even tighter. He gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.

"I know she's back. You want to get back together with her, don't you?" I accused again, leaning forward slightly.

"She's none of your business," Lucien hissed, his eyes darkening.

"Oh, of course I do," I retorted immediately. "Before that happens, I want us to get a divorce." I emphasized the last word as I leaned back.

Finally, the words came out of my mouth. I couldn't take it anymore.

Lucien had been drifting away and changing. He'd been coming home less and less over the past week. He'd often been late to important meetings lately. He'd also been leaving work early frequently.

Something he'd never done before.

And it was all because of one name: Camille.

I was sure of it. What else could it be?

"There's going to be no divorce. Now get out," he said, his voice almost a growl.

My mouth fell open. What did he mean?

I stood frozen.

Lucien pressed the button for my seatbelt. "Get out, Ser. Do you want to stay out even later?"

My lips trembled. I clutched my handbag tightly and got out without closing the car door.

I heard Lucien curse. He slammed the passenger door shut and sped off, the tires screeching.

The tears I'd been desperately holding back finally broke free. I hugged myself. My coat was left in the car and had now slid away without a care for me.

I was even more convinced that my decision was the right one. Before I fell apart completely, I had to end this marriage.

***

The door to my office swung open; my neighbor from the next room walked in.

Great. After not coming home last night, now he shows up with a blank expression, showing no sign of guilt.

"Let's have lunch together later, okay?" His invitation sounded like a threat.

"Sorry, I already have plans," I declined, keeping my eyes on my computer screen.

Lucien's eyebrows shot up. "With who?" he asked sharply.

"None of your business," I replied in the same tone.

Is he the only one who's allowed to do that?

"A guy or a girl?" he asked again, his tone slightly demanding.

Did I hear that right?

I chuckled without answering him.

"Have lunch with me. Don't go making a big deal out of having lunch with someone else. Be in my office at 12."

He turned away after making his demand.

I scoffed at his behavior. Back then, I would have always obeyed.

Now? Of course not!

At 11:30, I slipped out of my office. To hell with Lucien. My meeting with my best friend, Émilie, was very important.

As soon as I arrived at the restaurant where we'd agreed to meet, I immediately stated my intention.

"What? Are you sure you want to divorce Lucifer? I mean, Lucien," Émilie grimaced.

I gave a faint smile. "Please draft the divorce petition for me, Ém. I'm not asking for anything. The main thing is that we get divorced quickly."

Émilie was a lawyer. She had a pretty good track record as a divorce attorney, so I trust her.

She let out a long sigh. "Finally, Ser, your smarts are coming to the surface. You've been a love-struck fool for three years. It makes me want to smack you on the head," she blurted out without hesitation.

"Why did you suddenly come to your senses, Ser?" Émilie asked again, sipping her coffee.

I was silent for a moment. "She... came back," I replied weakly, looking down.

Émilie immediately pushed her coffee cup away. "That bitch! The manipulative one who loves to take advantage of you?"

Émilie's loud voice drew the attention of the people around us. I kicked her shin. She immediately shut her mouth. I gave her a brief summary-I was too lazy to dig up the sores of my marriage.

"I'll be waiting for the documents as soon as possible, Ém," I concluded as I stood up. The break was almost over.

She gave me a thumbs-up while curling her lips.

I drove back to the office at a leisurely pace. As I walked into my office, a baritone voice immediately pierced my ears.

"Why was your phone off? Where were you, anyway?" Lucien asked in a booming voice. He stood up from my office chair.

"I forgot to charge it," I replied briefly.

"You ignored my invitation to lunch. What's more, I've been trying to reach you for a while because there's something important," he said as he approached me and grabbed my arm.

I furrowed my brow. "What?"

"Grandpa had a seizure. Come on, we have to go to the hospital," he urged, pulling my hand.