My Ex-Husband Watched Me Marry My Childhood Sweetheart

As soon as I stopped talking, Lorenzo took the file, held the pen, and signed his name on the last sheet.

Looking at his clear and smooth signature, it felt like something inside my chest had emptied out.

All those years of emotion ended so simply with that one stroke.

The lawyer acted quickly. Once I gave him the agreement, in less than a week, I could part from Lorenzo.

After Lorenzo signed, he reached forward and rested his hand on my swollen belly, his touch natural and familiar, "Baby, do you miss Daddy?"

"Yesterday, Daddy didn’t attend Mommy’s award event. There is a reason… right? Our baby is so gentle, you won’t blame Daddy."

When he spoke, his voice was light, as if he had only skipped a usual gathering.

My belly moved slightly.

My throat felt tight, and I felt drained.

Lorenzo was always like this.

No matter what he did outside, as long as he returned to me, he became that kind husband again, that father who truly waited for the child to be born.

That version of him made me think, for a moment, as if nothing had changed, as if, as long as I chose not to see or hear, he had never betrayed me.

But a false hope was still not true.

Once betrayal took place, it remained.

I chose to leave him.

Lorenzo seemed to sense my cold attitude, his voice holding a bit of doubt.

"Wife, you are so quiet today. I thought you would be like last night, calling again and again until I answer."

"Isn’t that what you want?"

I answered calmly.

"A smart, obedient wife who does not question how you return kindness."

Lorenzo clearly paused.

But soon, Lorenzo reached out, pulled me into his arms, and lowered his head to kiss the corner of my forehead.

“This is right, wife. You’re becoming more and more understanding.”

“To me, she’s just family. That kiss on the livestream was only an act, nothing.”

Nothing.

Those four words felt like a thin layer of dust, settling lightly yet choking me until it was hard to breathe.

I suddenly thought back to a long time ago.

Lorenzo and I had shared our first kiss, so serious and shy.

That day, his eyes were filled with only me, his face flushed, his voice firm.

“You are the first person I kiss, and the only one.”

In the end, time had worn love away.

A kiss had also turned into nothing more than an ordinary act.

I did not notice when my nails had already pressed into my palm, the small, sharp pain spreading little by little.

"I understand."

I cut off Lorenzo, wanting to take back the signed agreement.

"Wife, which house do you like?"

Seeing what I did, Lorenzo picked up the document again. "I will help you look at it."

I did not stop him and instead felt a quiet hope.

If Lorenzo opened it and found that it was not a house purchase contract but a divorce agreement, what would he do?

But in the next moment, a loud sound of glass breaking came from the bedroom, followed by a short cry from a woman.

Lorenzo’s face changed at once, and he quickly dropped the document and turned to run into the bedroom.

My heart, which had just lifted, dropped straight down.

Forget it, what am I still hoping for?

Even if Lorenzo knew it was a divorce agreement, it would only cause me more problems.

I placed the divorce agreement into my bag and followed Lorenzo to check what had happened.

What I saw in the bedroom made my breathing stop.

Ariella stood next to my bed with red eyes, and on the floor lay the broken wedding photo.

The frame was cracked, and the glass was in pieces.

But Lorenzo did not even look at it.

He gently held Ariella’s hand, lifting her fingers, lowering his head to blow on them. "How can you be so careless? Is the cut deep? Does it hurt?"

Ariella stuck out her tongue in a playful way.

"How do I know you placed the wedding photo by the bed? It is dangerous. I was only helping you remove a risk."

After she spoke with a smile, as if only then seeing me at the door, her face paused and quickly showed a bit of awkwardness.

"Ah, sorry, sister-in-law, I bothered you."

"The water pipe in my house broke. I cannot bathe. Lorenzo lets our mother and child stay here for a while…"

My fingers tightened a little, and remembering those three photos made me feel sick.

Lorenzo looked at Ariella with clear worry and care.

I only felt foolish. These past months, sending Ariella abroad made me lose the chance to see their lies earlier.

Although I no longer wanted to love Lorenzo, it did not mean I would accept Ariella going too far.

I spoke with sarcasm, "Can it be that sister-in-law cannot even afford a hotel, or do you think living in my marital home feels better?"

Lorenzo frowned at once and cut me off without thinking,

"Can you speak more gently? She is my sister-in-law. Bringing my brother’s orphan to stay in a hotel, how would that look if people find out? It is not like there are no rooms at home."

It felt like as long as Ariella held the title of sister-in-law, whatever she did was seen as fine.

Before I could speak, she had already gently pulled Lorenzo’s sleeve and said quietly, "I only want to look at your room. I don’t mean anything else."

"It’s my fault." Her tone sounded upset. "I cause you to argue… maybe I should go."

After Lorenzo spoke, a small hint of regret crossed his eyes, as if he realized his tone toward me had been too strong.

Hearing this, he quickly reached out and drew Ariella into his arms.

"Why go?"

His voice softened at once.

"Don’t overthink. I decide things in this house. If I say you can stay, then you can stay."

Lorenzo’s words felt like a hard slap across my face.

How long had it been? I no longer had any right to decide things in this house.

Ariella lifted her head from his arms, a hint of pride flashing in her eyes, and asked softly, "Then what about the broken wedding photo?"

Her eyes moved to the pieces on the floor.

Lorenzo followed her gaze, glanced once, and said without care.

"Since it's dangerous, just throw it away."

I suddenly looked at Lorenzo. After making sure he didn't say it wrong, I let out a laugh.

"Alright, then throw it away."

"Anyway, it isn't anything important."

Lorenzo probably didn’t expect me to agree so easily. He had only said it without thinking.

Didn’t I value the wedding photos the most?

Before, no matter how bad our arguments got, I never wanted to touch those wedding photos.

But he didn’t know the reason I cared about them was that the day we got the certificate was the happiest day for me, and I held onto that day tightly.

But now, nothing matters anymore.