I Tricked My Husband Into Signing Our Divorce Papers

As soon as I lay down on the guest bedroom bed, an email popped into my inbox.

"Miss Sullivan, congratulations on being accepted into our Jewelry Design program. Please confirm your attendance at your earliest convenience."

A sense of liberation floated from the email, pulling the corners of my mouth into a smile. My stagnant life was finally moving forward.

The next morning, just after I got up, Rhys Kennedy's assistant was already waiting in the living room. I glanced at the folder on the table and said to him, "If you've got other things to do, go ahead. I'll get him to sign it."

The assistant hesitated, checked his watch, and then handed me the folder before leaving. I placed the divorce papers neatly in the middle of the folder and started preparing breakfast for myself.

When Rhys got up, I was eating a bagel. He gave it a disdainful look and said, "Why eat that? I want oatmeal."

I finished my last bite, stood up, and handed him the folder. "Reuben brought this over this morning."

Without even looking, Rhys opened and signed it, taking the opportunity to tease me about doing the assistant's job for him. After I took the folder back, I prepared to put on my shoes and leave.

Rhys, sounding impatient, called out from behind me, "Adelaide, I want oatmeal!"

I turned back to him calmly. "I need to return the documents and then head to the clinic."

Just as Rhys was about to say something else, Bailee Rose emerged from the bedroom. "Mr. Kennedy, did I oversleep?"

While Rhys turned to talk to her, I opened the door and left, not witnessing the significant look he shot my way as the door clicked shut.

Once outside, I pulled out the divorce papers. Years of being together had worn me down to almost nothing, and Rhys hadn't even bothered to glance at what he was signing. The cooling-off period for the divorce would be thirty days—thirty days until I could leave.

After returning from the law firm, I went straight to the bedroom and started packing my luggage. Rhys looked surprised. "Didn't I say you don't have to move out?"

I paused before offering a casual excuse. "With Miss Rose living here now, it's inconvenient for me to stay."

Whatever Rhys wanted to say was stuck in his throat by my words. From the clinic visit onwards, he thought I'd changed somehow. Just as he was about to ask, Bailee called him for dinner. Once he left, I closed my eyes briefly and continued packing.

I laughed to myself as I looked at the tiny section of clothes that were mine. Six years of marriage and this was all I had in this home. After packing my clothes, I put the gifts I'd given Rhys over the years into trash bags. Every Christmas and birthday, I had prepared something for him, all now collecting dust in the corner. Clearly, they no longer held any meaning.

Dragging my suitcase to the guest bedroom, Bailee warmly invited me to join them for dinner. Rhys was awkwardly slicing roast beef beside her, not sparing me a glance. I forced a smile. "No thanks, you two enjoy."

Rhys looked up at me when he heard that, but I calmly turned my gaze and walked to the guest room.

"Wait!" Rhys suddenly called out. I turned back to him, puzzled. "Join us," he suggested, sounding awkward.

Taken aback, I declined in the end. Rhys hadn't expected my refusal; he barked, embarrassed and annoyed, "Eat if you want, don't if you don't!"