Divorce After Broken Promises

After marrying Mack West, I would ask him the same question each year: "Will we ever break up?"

In the first year, he laughed it off, "Don't be silly, we'll be together forever."

In the second year, he simply said, "I love you."

By the third year, he replied impatiently, "Alex is really picking up all your habits."

In the fourth year, Mack presented me with divorce papers. I didn't resist.

He asked, "Aren't you going to fight for the kid?"

"No, he's a West."

==============================

It was two in the morning, with the night outside thick and heavy. The room was wrapped in silence, and even the air seemed to hold its breath. Mack had just laid down, and we lay back-to-back, each ignoring the other's presence. I knew he wasn't asleep.

"Mack, will we... ever break up?"

He remained silent for a moment, as if deep in thought. Then, he sat up and handed me a document. "Sign this."

It was the divorce agreement. Mack had even thoughtfully provided a pen. Four years of marriage, filled with daily routines, ending with him taking the initiative. Absurd.

I struggled to lift my head, "Why?"

He replied casually, "I don't love you anymore."

"Mack, you once promised you'd love me forever, that we'd never part."

Mack sat up, looking at me as if I were naive. "Regina, how old are you now? How can you still take those old promises seriously?"

Ah, but wasn't it precisely those small promises that led me to marry him?

Well, it makes sense. Love is ever-changing; "forever" is just a comforting word.

I glanced at the agreement in my hand, "What about the child?"

"Alex is a West; of course, he's staying with me."

Mack answered without hesitation. I laughed out loud. Memories of Mack saying "it doesn’t matter whose name the child carries" flashed through my mind.

"What’s so funny?"

He didn't understand my reaction, frowning as he asked.

I shook my head. "It's nothing. I agree."

Since promises can fade, let this be our farewell.

Mack was stunned, seemingly not expecting this. He looked at me in disbelief, "You love Alex so much, and you're not going to fight?"

"No, he's a West."

"Alright, we’ll add that to the agreement, and I'll sign again."

"..."

I got out of bed, feeling surprisingly free. "It's so late. Where can you go?"

His voice was full of certainty, convinced I was stranded. It's pitiful, really.

These four years, in my own city, Mack had thrived while I ended up isolated and alone.

I stopped, turned to face him, a small smile on my lips. "I'm not staying here to bug you while you pack."

"?"

"Tomorrow, once I've slept well, I want nothing with the name West left in this house."

"Oh, and Alex is yours too. Don't forget to take him."

That's right, this villa was my property before marriage. Mack was just a guest who didn't pay rent. If I want him gone, he must leave.

"Regina!"

He shouted after me, his voice filled with impotent rage.