On Our Anniversary, I Gifted Him Divorce Papers

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I tossed him to the nanny and drove off without glancing back.

When I got home, worn down to the bone, the first thing I saw was the piano dumped carelessly on the lawn like garbage.

Inside, Arthur stood by the door, dragging in several large suitcases.

“Mom, Aunt Eleanor will be staying in the country for a while, so she’ll be living here. She doesn’t like noise, so I cleared out your music room to make a sculpture studio for her.”

I stared at him, his face distant and cold. At that moment, I realized I no longer belonged. I was just some unsightly remnant, awkward and out of place, stubbornly lingering where I wasn’t wanted.

That piano, his eighth birthday gift to me, was bought with all his New Year’s money.

He used to sit beside me, giggling in the sunlight, hands on the keys, clinging to my arm and saying, “I love Mommy the most.” That little boy had vanished into time.

Swallowing the ache in my chest, I forced a smile through the tears that threatened to spill.

“Arthur, this is how you treat your mother now.”

A flicker of unease crossed his face, awkward, almost guilty. And just then, soft footsteps echoed from behind him.

Stephen stepped into the yard with Eleanor beside him, his expression cold and identical to Arthur’s as he looked straight at me.

“Eleanor’s afraid of the dark. Your room gets the most sunlight. Please move out and let her stay there.”

I lowered my gaze and nodded. “Alright. I’ll move all my things out.”

They had expected resistance, perhaps tears or a tantrum. But my calm reply caught him off guard, and his face stiffened with surprise.

“Victoria—”

“Victoria, you’re so sweet! Then let’s get along well during this time,” Eleanor cut in with a sugary smile.

I didn’t spare them a second glance. I turned, climbed the stairs, and headed to the bedroom.

There, I bent down and quietly dragged out one heavy bag after another. Every item I packed carried years of silence, sacrifice, and dust.

When I tossed thirty years of memories into the trash truck, Stephen followed me out, brows furrowed.

“Why are you throwing away so much?”

“Just old junk I’ll never use again.”

He eyed me warily, unsettled by the eerie calm in my voice. He reached into one bag and froze.

“These… these are the gifts I gave you.”

I smiled faintly. “Things from decades ago should’ve been thrown out a long time ago.”

Just like certain people.

Stephen’s face tightened, displeased. “You used to treasure them…”

Yes, as long as it was a gift from him, I used to light up like a child, clutching it to my chest, promising I’d treasure it forever.

Back then, Stephen would glance at me and feel an inexplicable warmth bloom in his chest.

But forever was far too long. A heart soaked in betrayal couldn’t carry its weight.

I brushed past him without pause. “There’s someone new in the house now. You’ve never liked a crowd, have you?”

He opened his mouth, perhaps to explain that Eleanor was only staying temporarily, but I had already turned away and loaded everything into the car.

He let out a sigh. “There’s a banquet tonight. You haven’t been out in a while, why not come along with Eleanor.”

He hadn’t invited me to a formal event in years. Ever since I gained weight, he had stopped taking me anywhere that mattered.

At the banquet, the two of them stepped out of the car first.

The host beamed with admiration. “President Mortimer, your wife is still as beautiful as she was in her youth.”

Stephen didn’t correct him. With a smile, he naturally took the mistress’s hand.

“Thank you.”

“And this lady is…?”

Only then did he glance my way. There was a brief flicker, and then he looked away. “She’s our assistant.”

I stood frozen in place. Even though his answer didn’t surprise me, it still felt like someone had torn my heart wide open.

Swallowing the sting in my eyes, I lifted my head and walked into the banquet with what remained of my dignity.

Eleanor clung to Stephen’s arm, swirling her wine glass as they mingled effortlessly among the glittering crowd, like a true couple of high society.

And I stood at a distance, watching it all unfold as if I were just a passing shadow. The laughter, the glamour, none of it belonged to me.

Then, suddenly, a searing pain shot through my injured right calf.