No More Waiting for His Love

Lewis studied me for a long moment, then said nothing more.

Near the end of the workday, my phone buzzed with a message from Lewis—a reservation confirmation from an upscale restaurant.

I knew what it was meant to be: his version of compensation.

I gathered the divorce agreement fresh from the printer, slipped it into my bag, and prepared to keep the appointment.

As I left the office building, I ran straight into Anne.

As Lewis's widely known young girlfriend, Anne was indeed beautiful.

Right in front of me, she got into Lewis's car.

He drove off. Not long after, he sent me a message telling me to wait for him at the law firm.

I didn't wait. I went to the restaurant on my own.

Once seated, I ordered plenty of food and wine. This place's steak was my favorite. I ate both portions myself.

I used to wait until he arrived before touching the food. Over time, missing meals and eating irregularly became a habit.

In the end, Lewis never showed up.

I wasn't angry. I'd waited five years, and there was still no place for me in his heart. As long as he signed the divorce agreement, waiting one more night didn't matter.

What he didn't know was that the divorce agreement he saw—was written for him and me.

…

After dinner, I wandered around for a long while. By the time I got home, it was already very late.

The living room lights were on. Lewis was actually waiting for me.

I say actually because in our five years of marriage, he usually didn't come home until well past midnight. And I was always the one who canceled all social plans and outings with friends to wait at home for him.

I worried he'd drink too much with no one to take care of him. I worried he'd work too late and skip dinner. So I always kept hangover medicine ready, along with some hot food.

Lewis hated this about me. He said I was like an old nanny.

I shook my head, pulling myself out of the memories.

His gaze was cold, his voice even colder. "Janice, you almost stayed out all night again."

I answered with a simple "Oh."

In this house, staying out all night seemed to be his exclusive privilege.

Once we got divorced, I would have that privilege, too.

Lewis narrowed his eyes, clearly surprised by my reaction.

"Do you know what day it is today?"

I froze for a moment, my hand instinctively reaching into my bag. Inside was the gift I'd prepared for him earlier.

Today was our fifth wedding anniversary. In past years, I'd always gone to great lengths for it.

I didn't take out the gift. We were on the verge of divorce anyway. Going through hollow rituals like this felt unnecessary.

Irritation flickered in Lewis's eyes as he handed me a gift box.

"I prepared this for you. Open it."

I wasn't particularly surprised. After canceling on me so many times, he owed me some form of compensation.

That was Lewis. Whenever he did something wrong, he'd offer a bit of sweetness afterward.

And I would always wait anxiously, hoping the compensation would be a little more—hoping he'd stay with me a little longer.

I took the gift box and casually tossed it onto the sofa.

"That's very kind of you," I replied politely.

His gaze sharpened, as if my politeness was completely beyond his understanding.

"I didn't make it to dinner tonight because Anne had something urgent—"

I cut him off. "It's fine. No need to explain. I understand."

I truly meant it.

But Lewis seemed irritated instead.

"Stop being jealous all the time. Anne's family lawsuit is my case—I have to see it through."

I lowered my head, rummaging through my bag for the divorce agreement, and spoke without pausing, "Taking a case all the way to a concert—you really are thorough with your investigations."

His sharp brows twitched, and his entire face darkened.

It was something he couldn't explain. So all he could do was stare at me in silence, his expression stormy.

If this were the past, I would've likely been frightened by that look—anxious, second-guessing myself, then breaking down in tears and apologizing.