My Husband Despise Me, His Boss Wants Me.

Genevieve's Point of View

"And what is that supposed to mean? You think divorce is a word you should be throwing around?" Fred's eyes narrowed, anger brewing in them. "It hasn't gotten to divorce yet."

My mouth fell open as I watched him in dismay. It hasn't come to divorce... Am I supposed to die before he takes me seriously?

"Listen to me, Genevieve, I don't have time for your shenanigans. I have guests waiting for me outside!" Then he stormed out, leaving me to wallow in my thoughts.

Why does he always walk out when there's a serious discussion? Why won't he just calm down and listen to what I have to say for once?

My eyes moved to the box containing my dead cat, and uncontrollable tears flowed down my face. My only friend was gone forever.

I didn't go out of my room, and I couldn't sleep throughout the night. I held my father's photo, staring at it with a sad smile as my mind wandered. Would things be any different if my father was alive? Would I be leading a better life than this?

The chirping of birds outside my window made me realize it was morning.

I picked myself up, getting ready to go bury my cat, when my phone beeped and I saw a message from my mom: "Come over. We need to talk!" the text read.

As if I had been expecting her text, I bolted into the bathroom to brush my teeth before leaving.

*******

It wasn't long before I made it to my stepfather's home. My mother was talking to a man at the door, and she smiled warmly when she saw me, but I was too sad to return her smile.

"Have a nice day, Mr. Park," she said to the man, then faced me. "Let's talk inside."

My mother and I made ourselves comfortable on sofas next to each other, and she held my hand comfortingly.

"Fred called me this morning. He told me about what transpired between you and Kelvin yesterday," she said.

I sighed mentally. Of course, he's always the first to call Mom in situations like this.

"You see, Kelvin is just a kid who grew up without a mother. It's normal for him to be stubborn and a bit hard to handle..."

"He didn't grow up without a mother," I interrupted her quietly. "I played the role of a mother to him. Most kids in his situation aren't as fortunate as him."

"I understand you, Genevieve. But you can't just walk away now. Think about the years you've spent with them, think about the years you've been family."

I laughed briefly. "Family... They've never seen me as part of their family, and I don't want to keep forcing myself on them anymore."

"Genevieve, you—"

"Mom, family was you, Dad, and me. We were happy, and that is family." My eyes watered as I recalled how happy I was when my father was alive.

Her expression softened when she saw my teary eyes. "Do you really want to walk away from this?" she asked.

I thought about my stepsister. She was good to me; she treated me like a biological sister. I would have stayed because of her, but her son and husband wouldn't accept me no matter how hard I tried.

I've tried my best, I've given my everything, and I believe she won't blame me for leaving at this point. It's time I lived for myself.

"My mind is made up, Mom. I want a divorce," I said, my voice firm and confident.

Mom sighed deeply. She looked like she wanted to persuade me to stay, but she was out of words... I guess.

"Here." She dropped a file on my lap.

My eyes lit up when I saw Divorce Agreement boldly written at the top. I couldn't hold back my joy as I broke into a bright smile.

I'll no longer be Mrs. Einstein after signing this document. I'll no longer try to please anyone or make them love and accept me. I'll be Miss Genevieve Albrecht. I'll be free to live for myself and do the things I love.

I signed the document without hesitation and joyfully left.

*******

It was already dark by the time I got home—just 7:30 p.m., though. I searched for my keys in my bag but couldn't find them. Then I remembered I had forgotten to take them with me.

Just as I was about to ring the doorbell, Kelvin came out. He was smiling, playing a game on his phone, but his expression turned into a detestable scorn as soon as he saw me.

"Wow! Let's give a standing ovation. The murderer finally knew to come home," he said, mockery embedded in his words. "We thought karma had finally visited you, and you'd been struck dead by thunder!" he spat.

In response, a loud thunderclap sounded, and a strong wind began to blow, indicating it was going to rain in a minute.

"Kelvin, open the—" My words stuck in my mouth when a lady's voice spoke from inside.

"Who are you talking to, Kelvin?"

"Frieda Lawrence," I whispered as she walked towards Kelvin and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She raised her head and saw me, then smiled slyly.

"Oh, you came right on time. Fred is looking for you to prepare dinner." She faced Kelvin. "Come on, buddy, let's go." And they left.

Then came the heavy downpour—the heavy rain.