Chapter 1

I had planned a surprise for Dave on his birthday, but who could've expected that I'd walk in to find the biggest surprise of all?

I saw Tiffany O'Connor sitting on my husband's lap, feeding him cherries mouth-to-mouth. The two of them were all over each other, not even pretending to hide their affection for each other.

Before, Dave had made excuses, claiming they were just work partners. But now, here they were, openly rolling around on my bed—my bed, which they had so shamelessly claimed.

Dave didn't offer a single explanation, allowing Tiffany to mock me as she pleased. Meanwhile, he casually took a cherry from her lips with a smile. Watching this, my stomach churned, and I fell to my knees, gagging.

"Dave Young, I'm asking you one last time—are you sure you want a divorce?"

At the sound of my voice, Dave paused, his hand still resting on Tiffany's leg. He looked irritated, turning away from me without replying, effectively giving me his answer.

I laughed bitterly, stepping forward to shove Tiffany to the ground and throwing the sheets at her in disgust.

"That's enough. Take your filthy self, and take Dave with you."

Dave, humiliated in front of his lover, was furious. His expression darkened, and he came toward me, raising his hand as if to slap me. I was quicker, though, and I slapped him first.

I held up my phone in front of him, showing him the post I had just made.

"I've divorced Dave Young."

Before long, several comments started appearing underneath, with many saying they were waiting for me.

Seeing I was serious, Dave immediately exploded. He didn't care about Tiffany, who was still struggling to get up, and yelled at me to delete the post.

"No need. Joan Bronte already booked a flight back to the country. We'll sign the papers when he arrives."

I waved at him, cutting off any remaining attachment. Looking at his reddened eyes, all I felt was cold disappointment.

I didn't expect Joan Bronte to come back so quickly.

True to his usual style, he called me early on a weekend morning, asking me to meet him to discuss the divorce.

Although we were exes, he was still very considerate toward me, and my initial awkwardness soon faded away.

"I'm so happy to see you again! Really! But it's been so long since we graduated. I didn't expect our paths would cross like this."

Joan Bronte paused when I said that. His usually serious expression faltered, and he stopped writing. His ears turned red, a sign I had never seen before.

"Mm."

He didn't say much, but his pen remained frozen in place for so long that the ink had soaked into the paper.

I was sitting opposite him, reviewing divorce-related clauses, occasionally commenting on the ridiculous idea of a "cooling-off period."

Noticing he wasn't responding, I looked up at him, only to find that he was sitting upright, staring at me with an odd expression. The pen in his hand, after sitting idle for so long, had soaked the page through.

"You once said that if I returned to the country, we might have a chance at marriage…"

"Dream on!"

Before Joan Bronte could finish his sentence, an angry shout interrupted us, drawing the attention of everyone around.

I turned to find Dave, standing with Tiffany at a nearby table, his face dark with anger. They were feeding each other snacks, looking overly affectionate.

Dave kept stealing glances at me, his gaze full of provocation.

But I couldn't care less. I kept talking to Joan Bronte about the divorce, occasionally handing him some small snacks.

Before I could pass him a dried strawberry, Dave grabbed my wrist.

I looked up and met his gaze. His face twisted in anger as he stared at the dried strawberries on the table.

"You know that dried strawberries are my favorite. Are you doing this on purpose?"

Feigning surprise, I glanced at him and casually handed the strawberry to Joan Bronte, letting him take a bite.

"Is that so? I've been buying dried strawberries because Joan likes them. I just got used to it."

The room fell silent.

Chapter 2

I could see the frozen look on Dave's face, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to say something, but I turned away, speaking affectionately to Joan Bronte.

No matter what Dave tried to say, he couldn't get a word in, standing there like a clown, utterly humiliated.

"Hey! You there, waiter! You can't just serve that table! Come here and get me a napkin."

A man shouted from nearby, mistaking Dave for a waiter because of his attire. When Dave ignored him, the man stormed over, ready to "teach" him a lesson.

Dave, not used to this kind of humiliation, turned pale. When he saw that I wasn't going to speak up for him, he cursed and threw a punch at the man.

Tiffany O'Connor, watching the scene, stormed off in a fit of rage, muttering insults under her breath, her high heels clacking as she left.

I ignored the two of them and noticed that the dried strawberries I had brought were now all gone, having been fed to Joan Bronte, one by one. His expression was a little awkward as he ate them all.

Thinking back to my earlier comment, I looked at his expression and suddenly realized I might have said something wrong.

What I didn't expect was a message from Brook Alcott, who hadn't been in touch for years. He said he had a gift for me and invited me to pick it up at his store.

A wedding dress store?

Although I was mentally prepared, I still froze for a second when I saw the dress he had designed. Every design element was something I had mentioned to him years ago when I talked about the kind of wedding dress I wanted.

He actually remembered.

I couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness, remembering how rushed my own wedding had been, buying a dress on a whim.

"If you buy me a wedding dress, I won't be mad anymore."

Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice, soft and coquettish.

Tiffany O'Connor's voice came from behind the curtain. The person standing beside her was, of course, Dave.

She wandered around, constantly complaining and dismissing everything in sight. Eventually, her eyes landed on the wedding dress Brook Alcott had designed for me.

She squealed with delight and ran over, demanding Dave buy it for her. I glanced at the clerk, who was caught between a rock and a hard place. Not bothering to indulge her spoiled attitude, I grabbed the dress back and had the clerk wrap it up.

Tiffany froze when she saw it was me, suddenly finding her confidence.

"You're sick! What's a divorced woman like you buying a wedding dress for? Have you already found someone else? That was fast."

She sneered and pulled out more money to try and buy the dress herself.

"You like it? I'll give it to you."

To my surprise, Dave didn't follow Tiffany's words. Instead, he turned toward me with a smug smile, as if offering a gift.

"Did you like the gift I gave you? Divorce is such a joyous occasion, isn't it?"

I was about to slap him when the door opened and Brook Alcott walked in, still looking like the charming gentleman he always was, with a warm smile that seemed unchanged by the years.

We had left things a certain way when we parted, but Brook still looked just the same as ever.

Dave's face instantly darkened when he saw him. He knew about my past with Brook and how, if not for family issues, we would probably have been married by now.

Even though Dave and I were still legally married, Brook had dropped everything to come back, and he'd even prepared a wedding dress for me. It was obvious to anyone what his intentions were.

Seeing the man I hadn't seen in so many years, my heart skipped a beat. His appearance still had the power to affect me deeply.

Even after all these years, I still can't change it.

I quickly turned my head away, not daring to look at him anymore.

At this moment, Tiffany O'Connor was still wearing her wedding dress.

She shook Dave Young's hand in front of me, as if afraid I would outshine her.

She seemed to be signaling him to speak up and buy her something, so at least she wouldn't look too bad in front of me.

Chapter 3

Brook Alcott stroked my hair and, turning around as if just noticing the two of them, raised his eyebrows. His voice remained gentle and calm.

"So, this is the 'third sister' and 'ex-husband brother'?"

Luckily, he showed up; otherwise, I think I would have been driven mad.

After all, Dave Young had always refused to accompany me to try on wedding dresses back then. He said he was busy, had no time, but now, he was bringing his mistress to personally pick one out.

For me, the soon-to-be-divorced ex-wife, it was clear how much thought he had put into it—and the amount of face he was giving her.

I suppressed the displeasure in my heart, swiped my card, and handed it to Tiffany O'Connor.

"Here, it's on me. No need to thank me. Is my husband still comfortable for you to use? I'll give him to you as well.

I have plenty of these, and if you're missing anything, just ask. I can always pass it on to you."

Once I finished speaking, Tiffany O'Connor was so angry that she didn't even want the wedding dress anymore. She grabbed Dave Young, who had a sour look on his face, and turned to leave.

Seeing my mood turn sour, the previously warm expression on Brook Alcott's face quickly vanished, and he suddenly looked a little aggrieved.

"It was my mistake to say too much. You probably just wanted to make him angry, right? I'm an outsider, and I really should've known better. I just wanted to help you."

What was he talking about?

The fog in my heart cleared in an instant. I looked at the pitiful Brook Alcott and hurriedly comforted him, until he smiled again, and I finally let out a sigh of relief.

Although they had left, I still felt like something was going to happen.

Sure enough, a few days later, I was bombarded with posts from Tiffany O'Connor online. As a big influencer, she cried to her followers about her situation, playing the victim.

Countless fans immediately rallied to her side, and they dug up my social media accounts to come and curse me out.

They called me a "green tea bitch," claiming that I was clinging to my husband even though we were about to divorce.

I watched as the rumors grew more outrageous, with even people finding my address and sending me curse letters.

When I saw that they had even found my parents' address and were planning to go personally to harass them, I finally couldn't stand it anymore.

After the fight, I returned to the house I used to share with Dave Young for the first time.

Dave Young opened the door and saw me knocking. A look of understanding appeared on his face, as if saying, "I knew you'd come back to find me."

"So, those two weren't enough for you? You've finally realized that I'm the one, but it's too late. We're getting divorced soon, Cora."

He laughed smugly and tried to close the door.

Who could be this shameless?

I restrained my anger and didn't slap him. Instead, I threw all the threatening letters in his face.

"If you don't take care of her, don't blame me for taking away whatever last bit of face you have left. If you two want to tear each other apart, don't blame me for being ruthless."

Dave Young scanned the letters, and seeing that I was on the verge of tears, his harsh tone softened a little.

"Maybe Tiffany misunderstood. She has a bad temper, but she's not a bad person."

I looked at the man I had lived with for years and suddenly felt like I didn't know him at all. Tears began to fall involuntarily, and my voice trembled as I spoke.

"So, it doesn't matter that my parents are dead? Their reputation isn't as important as hers?"

Dave Young fell silent for a long while. He crumpled the letters into a ball and tried to reconcile with me, just like he used to.

But this time, I didn't back down. I turned to leave, and just then, a woman's scream echoed from inside the house.

I froze as I watched Tiffany O'Connor, dressed in a revealing nightgown, run barefoot out of the room, her lipstick smeared across her face.