He Told Me to Get Out—So I Handed Him the Papers

I didn't know how long I had been standing in the cold wind before I finally gathered my emotions and pushed the door open.

To my surprise, Jason had not gone back to the room. Instead, he was lying on the couch in the living room, no blanket covering him, eyes closed as if he was already asleep.

I walked closer, thought for a moment, and then picked up a blanket to cover him. But as soon as I leaned over, his eyes snapped open.

We were face to face.

He frowned slightly, then without a word, pushed the blanket I'd been holding aside. “Why are you back so late?” he asked.

He rarely showed me any patience, and yet I made him wait so long.

I pressed my lips together and lied, “Oh, I was meeting with the lawyer.”

“I have been thinking about the previous agreement,” I continued. “I realize I could actually get more out of it.”

“We’ve been together for three years, and now that we're getting divorced, I have to look out for my best interests, right?”

He was stunned for a moment. After a while, he regained his composure and said in a probing tone, “Can the lawyer you hired be better than Anton Colton?”

I was silent. Of course not.

Everyone knew that in the courtroom, Attorney Colton, with his undefeated record, was Jason’s best friend.

Seeing the blank expression on my face, he finally smiled. “I'll pretend you said this because you’re angry. Don't let there be a next time.”

Before I could respond, he went straight upstairs.

It took me a long time to understand what he meant. He thought I was talking about divorce just to spite him. He had promised to have a serious conversation with me, but in the end, he made the decision on his own, as if I would always love him and never leave.

I didn’t return to the master bedroom but sensibly went to the guest room. In the past, I might have thought that I would eventually warm Jason’s heart, but now that idea was completely gone. His heart had been warmed by someone else, and no matter how hard I tried, it would be to no avail. All it would do is annoy him even more.

I didn't expect to see Tina Hollis so soon. She was wearing a well-fitted suit, with light makeup on her gentle face. She looked like a girl who had just walked out of a painting, with a cultured air about her. When she saw that it was me who opened the door, a look of embarrassment crossed her face. After hesitating for a while, she asked, “Is Jason here?”

I nodded and found her a pair of slippers. “Yes, he is. Come in and wait.”

She was reluctant to come in. “I’ll wait outside,” she said.

To see her like that, she seemed to overlap with the heroine of a novel—the shy, quiet, and unassuming type. I smiled and extended my hand. “Hello, Miss Hollis. I’m Grace Bishop.”

She pursed her lips and after a long time, finally shook my hand.

This scene, seen by the just-awakened Jason, turned into my being aggressive for some reason. He came over, stepped in front of me, and said to the small figure opposite, “You came looking for me?”

She said yes, that she wanted to thank him and had specifically asked someone for his address. She didn’t expect...

She didn’t finish her sentence, glancing at me quietly, clearly not expecting that Mrs. Crowe would be at home.

I should have pretended not to understand and brushed it off lightly. Or I could have flown into a rage, accusing her of ruining my family and being a homewrecker. But I did neither. I merely raised an eyebrow and said, “Huh?” Then I waved it off, nonchalantly. “It’s fine, you two talk. I’m about to leave anyway.”

I even repeated it for emphasis. “Really, it’s fine. Jason and I are getting a divorce.”

Tina’s eyes widened in disbelief, her expression barely suppressing a flicker of joy.

But Jason’s gaze hardened ever so slightly.

After I left, I didn’t have much to do. A friend shook my shoulder, exasperated. “Grace, they’re practically taking over the house, and you just leave them alone? Who does that?”

“He must be thrilled. In his dreams, he’s probably laughing out loud,” I muttered. To him, my lack of drama was undoubtedly perfect.

"I should have warned you back then," my friend said.

“I regret it too,” I whispered.

“What?” She missed my murmured words.

“Nothing,” I replied.