I Divorced Him After He Burned Me for Her

It all began when I accidentally spilled my drink on the dress Leon cherished, worn by Isla Snyder—a Victorian-style gown. His reaction was to dump hot oil on my face. Watching me suffer, he gently shielded Isla's eyes, murmuring, “Don’t look, love; it’s not for you to see.”

His voice turned icy as he threatened, “This is what you get for upsetting Isla. Next time, it’ll be far worse.” Despite the blistering pain, I nodded stoically.

...

Arriving at the hospital entrance, I overheard Leon chatting with some friends about me.

“Leon, why bother giving her a ride? She can walk home on her own,” one suggested.

Leon sneered, “I wouldn't bother if my dad wasn’t making me do it.”

“Your dad’s got nerve, making you marry such a mess,” another added.

Leon’s expression darkened. “I’ve no clue what's in his mind. If it weren’t for him, I'd have ended it with Miranda long ago.”

He noticed me as he finished speaking. His friends erupted in laughter, pointing at me, “Look at her face; it's a lost cause.”

Their laughter rang in my ears as Isla attempted to soothe the situation, “Miranda, don’t take it to heart. They’re just teasing. Besides, your face doesn’t matter when you’re already married, right?”

Everyone knew Leon’s devotion lay with Isla, and hearing it from her made my position feel even more foolish. Once, such words would have broken me, but now, I just acknowledged them and moved to leave.

Leon blocked my way, jingling his car keys, “Isla and I need the car today; you’ll need to walk,” he said.

Gritting my teeth to suppress my frustration, I walked away from the mocking stares.

After a few minutes, Leon's car caught up, pulling in front of me. I veered around it and pressed on.

Leon seemed stunned momentarily, then exited, gripping my arm and shoving me into the driver's seat as he and Isla settled in the back.

“You drive,” he commanded coldly as I focused on the road, pretending not to notice their antics in the rear.

I drove quietly, ignoring what happened behind me. Eventually, Leon broke the silence, instructing me to, “Park by the river where it’s quiet.”

I parked by the riverbank as directed. Leon's hand roamed under Isla's clothing while he mocked me, “Still around? Don’t think I’ll ever touch you. I can’t stand the sight of your face. Now get out and keep watch.”

As they continued their affair, leaving clothes strewn around the car, I tossed Leon’s jacket back at them from the passenger seat. “Don’t ruin my new car,” I said, stepping out. That’s when Warren Grant called.

“Miranda, let Leon take the call.”

“He’s busy with Isla, expanding the family line in the car,” I replied.

An awkward pause followed before Warren sighed, “Are you really going through with the divorce?”

“Uncle Warren, the papers are signed.”

I’d met Leon to get his signature on the divorce papers, and he signed them without a glance. Only a week remained before the cooling-off period ended.

---

After the call, I walked to the river, away from the vibrating car, feeling liberated at the thought of escaping years of misery. I closed my eyes, soaking in the breeze.

Suddenly, Leon grabbed me from behind, throwing me onto the grass. Towering over me, he demanded, “Miranda, have you lost it?”

For the first time, I glimpsed anxiety and panic in his eyes, which amused me. He seemed unsure, kneeling beside me and awkwardly telling me, “Even if your face is scarred, I won’t divorce you, so don’t do anything stupid.”

He thought I was about to jump into the river. He tried to help me up, but I ignored him, standing by myself. Before Leon could continue, Isla’s voice called out in pain nearby, and Leon rushed to her.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Let me check.”

“It’s nothing, just a twisted ankle. Go look after Miranda,” Isla replied.

“No way, let's get you to the hospital now,” Leon insisted, picking up Isla and heading to the car.

“Wait, the car’s filthy. Can you just carry me?” Isla suggested, glancing at me with a triumphant smile.

I looked at the car, rife with signs of their indiscretion, feeling nauseous. I called Leon’s driver for cleanup and returned home using the driver’s car.

Leon came back late, covered in fresh marks, carrying Isla. I discreetly stowed the divorce agreement. Leon scowled when he saw me, “Were you rifling through my documents?”

Isla added, “Miranda, Leon's company papers are important. If you want to work there, just ask. Don’t snoop.”

Leon glared at me, “Think you're cut out for working there? Know your place. Hand them over!”

I passed him the papers, and as he prepared to inspect them, I mentioned, “It's only the purchase agreement for the car your dad bought me. Confirm for yourself if you doubt me.”

“You’re as greedy as ever. I’ll pass. Isla twisted her ankle and will stay here. Look after her during the day,” Leon ordered, tossing the documents in my direction and carrying Isla to our bedroom, finishing with, “You’ll sleep in the guest room.”

Alone, I rummaged through old journals, pulling out a photo of two children. Smiling bitterly, I realized Leon probably had no clue about events eighteen years back, and I was ready to end my persistence. I tore the photo, tossed it away, and packed my essentials into a suitcase. I booked a flight.

With preparations complete, I headed to the bathroom and bumped into Leon, preparing to shower, still reeking of earlier deeds. He instinctively adjusted his clothes upon seeing me.

“I’ll spend some days with you once Isla’s better.”

“No need,” I replied coolly. By then, I’d be far away.

Leon’s gaze turned icy, taunting me. “Fine, I’ll transfer two hundred thousand to your account for looking after Isla.”

I nodded decisively. “Deal.” Starting anew demanded money, after all.

Leon scoffed, wired the money without delay. “Hope you make a decent nanny.”