The Divorce You Didn't See Coming

After Bobby Brooke became a well-known doctoral advisor, he would pick a poor female student every year to sponsor, under the noble pretense of building a good reputation.

On our wedding anniversary, he showed up late, with a pure-looking university girl with a high ponytail trailing behind him.

He said, "This girl is young, thin-skinned and simple-minded. If you keep a cold face, you'll scare her. Give her a cup of warm milk first. She tends to get insomnia before bed and if she doesn't drink it, she'll end up tossing and turning and tiring me out."

Laughter and jeers echoed around us and his academic buddies warmly called her 'sister-in-law.'

I kept a cold face, said nothing and threw the divorce papers in his face.

"Kirsten, do you think waving fake divorce papers around all the time is funny? Why don't you throw a fit in bed too? If you've got the guts, then actually divorce me!" He kicked aside the stack of papers with his foot, his cold and mocking tone piercing right through my heart like a blade.

What Bobby didn't know was, the divorce papers were drafted by a lawyer this time. I truly meant to divorce him.

——

"Kirsten, don't toss divorce papers every time you fight with Bobby! It'll ruin your marriage."

"Yeah, the last one you threw had a bunch of typos. Did you fix them yet?"

The room erupted in laughter again. No one was surprised anymore, they were already used to it. I clenched my fists, struggled to stay on my feet.

Bobby had become a doctoral advisor five years ago and all his friends since then were educated scholars. With just a bachelor's degree, I might as well have never gone to school in their eyes.

"All right, that's enough." Someone in the crowd finally cut in and only then did everyone wisely change the subject. I looked around the crowd, but saw nothing.

After a deep breath, I bent down and picked up the divorce papers, handing them to Bobby again, "Bobby, this divorce agreement has no typos or grammar errors. I paid a lawyer to write it."

"Look it over. If there's an issue, contact my lawyer." I handed him the lawyer's business card as well.

Only then did he straighten up, let go of the girl in his arms and take the papers.

I turned around, went to the kitchen and made a cup of warm milk, then brought it to the girl named Anita Hartland. She was very pretty and her features resembled mine when I was younger.

But I was no longer the one who held a place in his heart. One after another, I had no idea how many had come and gone.

I said, "The milk powder's in the cabinet, both skim and whole milk. If you want some later, you can make it yourself."

"Your advisor has a kind heart. There are 11 other students like you, all living on the third floor. You can learn from them and try to graduate soon."

Over the years, I had indeed used divorce as a threat many times, handing him everything from handwritten notes to templates copied off the internet. I thought Bobby would change, but it had little effect.

In the name of maintaining a good reputation, he had brought home countless female students. Batch after batch, now only 11 remained.

I took care of them like a maid, sometimes having to turn a blind eye to their flirting. I no longer wanted to waste my life with him.

In the past, our anniversaries were just the two of us. Simple and warm, but full of love.

I didn't know when it changed, but our wedding anniversary became an excuse for him to brag and show off. The guests were always strangers to me and always new.

I went upstairs to pack some clothes, ready to leave.

Bobby took one step and blocked me at the staircase, his cold eyes locked tightly onto the suitcase in my hands.