She Accepted His Ring, so I Signed the Divorce

Louie's POV

Instantly, Tracy’s expression changed. “You’ve been spying on me?”

“No,” I said calmly. “I’ve just stopped pretending not to see.”

She stared at me, her eyes blazing with fury, and exclaimed, “Fine! Don’t come crawling back later!”

She then grabbed her phone and quickly dialed a number.

“Harry, can you come pick me up?”

Her voice trembled, filled with fake vulnerability, as she asked that.

On the other end, I could hear Harry’s concerned voice asking if she was okay.

Tracy looked at me with a smug, defiant gaze while saying, “Louie, you still have time to change your mind.”

Yet I didn’t say a word. I turned and walked into the study, shutting the door behind me with a heavy thud.

Inside, I lit a cigarette and took a long drag.

Outside the window, the night was still and dark. Every so often, headlights from passing cars cut through the silence.

Half an hour later, the doorbell rang.

Then I heard Tracy rush to open the door, followed by Harry’s soft voice.

“Tracy, are you okay?”

Despite that, I didn’t get up. I just sat there, alone in the study, until I heard the front door close again.

The house instantly fell silent, completely still except for the steady ticking of the clock.

A few minutes later, my phone buzzed. Tracy messaged me.

[You pushed me to this, Louie.]

[Now, we’re done!]

Having read that, I didn’t respond. I tossed the phone aside, picked up my pen, and added a few more lines about the division of assets to the divorce agreement.

If we were ending it, then let’s end it properly.

When I finished, I sat back and stared out the window, memories flooding in.

It had been seven years since that summer night when I first met Tracy at a friend’s party.

She was sitting quietly in the corner, listening to music, completely out of place in the noisy crowd.

I handed her a glass of lemon water, and she looked up at me. Her eyes were so clear that it felt like they could reflect the entire night sky.

“Thanks,” she said.

As she took the glass, her fingers brushed the back of my hand, and I felt like electricity shot through me.

After that night, we started talking regularly.

She loved hearing the funny stories I told about work, and I loved watching her paint, so focused, so peaceful.

She used to say my voice made her feel safe, and her smile became my favorite part of every day.

Six months later, I finally worked up the courage to confess my feelings.

She blushed and said yes.

Our relationship didn’t start off easy.

Her parents were firmly against it, especially her father. He thought I was just a regular office worker from the countryside, not good enough for his precious daughter.

But Tracy was stubborn to the core.

She stood her ground, even went so far as to move out despite having a row with her family. In the end, we squeezed into a tiny rented apartment just to be together.

Resting her head on my shoulder, she whispered one night, “As long as I’m with you, nothing else matters.”

In that moment, I silently promised myself I’d love her for the rest of my life.

I worked my way up at their company, grinding day and night. Three years in a row, I topped the sales charts. Eventually, her father gave me his approval.

On our wedding day, Tracy ran into my arms in her gown, crying like a child.

“Louie… I finally get to marry you.”

Married life was simple, but sweet.

She liked to sleep in on weekend mornings, and I’d make coffee and wait for her to wake.

She always left her socks lying around, and I’d follow behind, picking them up without complaint.

When she painted, I’d sit quietly nearby reading a book. Sometimes I’d glance over at her, feeling completely content.

I thought we’d go on like that forever, growing old side by side.

But then, Harry came back from overseas.

At first, Tracy only mentioned him occasionally.