On Our Anniversary, I Gifted Him Divorce Papers

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In an instant, cold sweat drenched my back.

The lingering injury from the accident flared again, my previously fractured leg sending waves of pain with every heartbeat. I had no choice but to borrow a room to rest.

But all the organizers gave me was a cold, pitch-dark utility closet.

The moment I stepped inside, I heard a sharp “click” from the outside. The lock.

“Stephen has always loved me. You pitiful woman who threw herself at him, so what if you were married for decades? He never loved you!”

Outside, Eleanor’s voice rang with cruel delight.

“You saw it yourself, didn’t you? I sat in the front passenger seat next to Stephen tonight. This couture gown I’m wearing? A gift from your daughter. This limited-edition Cartier watch? Your son bought it for me. They all adore me, not you!”

My leg throbbed with unbearable pain. Drenched in sweat, I rattled the door, my voice shaking.

“You can have him and them, all of them! Just let me go to the hospital. I’m begging you!”

“Stop dreaming. I won’t let you out to steal the spotlight. Tonight, stay here and learn your place.”

Then, she hung a “Do Not Disturb – Under Maintenance” sign on the handle. The click of her heels echoed down the hall, growing fainter with every step.

I collapsed onto the cold floor, drained and defeated. Reaching for my phone, I realized with horror it was dead.

“Help me!”

I slammed my fists against the locked door, shouting until my voice broke, but the room was too remote, the night too quiet. No one came.

In the end, the pain consumed me, and everything faded to black.

Two hours later, when the banquet had ended, Stephen still hadn’t seen me. He looked around with a frown of irritation.

“Didn’t I tell her to behave and stay put? Where did she run off to?”

Eleanor clung to his arm, biting her lip with feigned guilt. “Did she leave because you called me your wife? If I’d known she’d be hurt, I would’ve explained it to her.”

But Stephen only replied with a scoff.

“Everyone tonight was high society. Do you really think her disheveled look wouldn’t have embarrassed me? Eleanor, I’m grateful you were by my side. You helped me save face.”

“Victoria is always so dramatic. Let her sulk. Let’s go home.”

Eleanor glanced smugly toward the utility room, the corner of her lips lifting in silent triumph.

And I was locked away in that dark room, was left forgotten. Not a single soul in that family remembered me.

The next morning, when Henry had to be taken to school, my son finally remembered I existed.

“Why isn’t she here yet? Do you even know what time it is?!”

But when my phone went unanswered, he didn’t bother calling again.

Instead, he waved it off and told the nanny to take Henry.

I was finally let out by a hotel staff member.

After charging my phone, there were no messages from Stephen asking where I was or expressing concern. What I did see was a blaring headline lighting up the screen.

[The long-absent Mrs. Mortimer, wife of the Mortimer Group president, turns out to be a renowned sculptor. A match made in heaven, a truly gifted man and elegant woman.]

Weak and numb, I stared at the screen and gave a bitter smile.

Then my phone rang.

For a fleeting second, I thought maybe it was Stephen.

But no. The name flashing on the screen was Edmund. I picked up, and his voice came through instantly, tight with worry.

“Victoria, I called you all night! What the hell happened? Are you alright now?”