My Husband Lied to Me, and I Chose to Let Him Go

I stepped out of the haze of that so-called love, feeling like a piece of wood going mad all on my own—strange and laughable.

Looking at the corners of my mother’s eyes filled with concern and my father’s furrowed brows from anger, I recalled my mother’s birthday.

I had told Greg a week in advance and usually, due to my family’s business in equipment, he had always been polite to my parents.

Whatever his motivations were, I had confidently assured my mother that Greg would definitely come to her birthday party.

But on that day, he didn’t show up.

I made countless calls, none of which connected. My parents’ faces darkened and a few nosy relatives began whispering to each other. I bit down hard on my lip, fighting against the humiliation and dialed Amicia’s number.

To my surprise, she picked up almost immediately.

“Wendy, what’s up?”

Hearing her affected tone made my stomach turn, but I pushed through the disgust and asked,

“Is Greg with you?”

Amicia let out a playful laugh and deliberately elongated her words, saying,

“Oh, Greg? He’s here in the lab with me. I’m having trouble with some data and he’s helping me out.”

I didn’t say another word before hanging up the phone. My blood boiled as I recklessly drove to Greg’s school, heading straight for the lab.

As soon as I reached the door, I saw Greg holding Amicia in his arms while adjusting the equipment. The moment Amicia looked up and spotted me, a triumphant smile spread across her face.

Suddenly, all sound faded away, replaced by a sharp ringing in my ears.

I strode up to Amicia and slapped her hard across the face, my voice rising to a fever pitch as I shouted,

“How much shameless can you be?!”

Before I could even register Amicia’s expression, a powerful shove sent me crashing to the ground, my elbow slamming painfully into the edge of a table.

The impact made my vision blur.

When I looked up, I saw Greg holding Amicia, her face streaked with tears, while he looked at me with disgust.

Coldly, he said to me, still sitting on the floor, “What’s your problem now? Get out of here before I call security to throw you out. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

The stares of the onlookers felt like daggers piercing my skin and tears flooded my eyes uncontrollably.

Just then, a pair of hands helped me up—it was a female assistant who had been in the lab for quite some time. Leaning on her for support, I stumbled along behind her.

By the time I realized what was happening, I found myself sitting on a bench outside the building

The assistant sat down next to me and quietly asked if I was hurt. I shook my head, but inside, my heart was filled with bitterness.

She looked at my face, then handed me a pack of tissues and softly said,

“Ms. Stark, what’s the point of all this?”

Those words felt like a sharp knife, piercing deep into my brain.

Why was I doing this? Did an already rotting relationship really deserve this level of self-degradation?

After that day, I slowly began to reclaim my career, piece by piece, working to rediscover the person I once was.

Part 5

I settled back at home, preparing the divorce documents while keeping track of the projects I was managing.

I was covering my bases—if Greg was willing to agree to an amicable divorce, great. But if he wasn’t, I was ready to file for divorce myself.

I also began to gradually withdraw my support from Greg’s lab. After all, most of the sponsorship and investments had come through me.