Chapter 3

With a friend's help, I quickly found a suitable place to live.

I've never been picky about my surroundings, so that same afternoon I finalized the lease with the landlord.

By the time I finished cleaning, it was already nine o'clock at night.

I planned to go back to the villa to discuss the divorce with Julian face to face.

But I waited until eleven, and Julian still hadn't come home.

I sat blankly in the living room, waiting for him.

At one in the morning, Julian pushed open the door, reeking of alcohol.

Seeing me sitting there, he immediately looked annoyed.

He tossed his suit jacket onto the back of a chair and said coldly,

"Are we going to fight again? I don't have time for this."

As he spoke, he rolled up his shirt sleeves and started walking straight to his room.

He didn't even glance at the divorce agreement I'd left on the table, nor did he say a single unnecessary word to me.

My throat tightened, but I still called out to him,

"Julian, this is the divorce agreement. Please sign it."

Julian's steps faltered slightly. He turned back to look at me with irritation.

"You're still mad about that agreement with my ex? You're my wife now. Can't you be a little more gracious about this?"

Hearing those words, I almost wanted to laugh.

So in Julian's mind, the only reason I wanted a divorce was because he'd given his ex a breakup settlement?

But if it were really just about money, I never would have married him in the first place.

Maybe Julian would never know—for all four years of college, I had secretly loved him.

I wrote him ninety-nine love letters, but never had the courage to hand him a single one.

Like a humble bystander, I quietly watched everything about him from the sidelines.

It wasn't until after graduation, when my family arranged a blind date for me, that I ran into him again.

At the time, he had just broken up with his girlfriend and looked completely lost.

Even though I knew he might just be using me to fill the void, I still agreed to date him.

I thought people could change. My sincerity would eventually move him.

After we started dating, he rarely took the initiative with me, but he was always polite.

He didn't spend much time with me, but he was willing to watch a movie with me on Valentine's Day.

He'd give me birthday gifts, even though his secretary was the one who picked them out.

But those tiny bits of sweetness were enough to make me feel content.

After a year of dating, we got married.

There was no touching proposal, no romantic wedding.

It was only because his parents pressured him to get married that he agreed to marry me.

Four years of secret love, one year of dating, seven years of marriage.

It was enough. I didn't want to continue anymore.

Fighting back the ache in my chest, I took a deep breath,

"Julian, I really want a divorce."

With that, I stood up first, calm and resolute, and repeated myself,

"So I hope this agreement is signed by tomorrow morning."

After saying this, I walked past him toward the guest room, mimicking his usual cold demeanor, and locked the door behind me.

Julian suddenly shouted angrily behind me,

"Fine then, Sophia! You want a divorce? Great, I'll sign right now. Even if you come crawling back to me on your knees, I won't take you back!"

Soon after, the sound of a door slamming came from the next room.

Listening to the commotion outside, even though I was mentally prepared,

I still felt a sharp, prickling pain spread through my heart.

Maybe Julian had forgotten—during these seven years of marriage, I had begged him countless times.

On our first anniversary after the wedding, I had pleaded with him to go celebrate at the beach.

He agreed readily, but when the time came, he sent a last-minute message saying he had an emergency board meeting that night.

After that, he didn't bother to explain anything—he just hung up the phone.

Seven years passed, and every year I would ask if he had time to travel abroad with me.

But every year, he said his schedule was too packed.

Just like that, the trip he owed me kept getting postponed again and again.

Actually, I never understood why

even after being married to Julian for years, it always felt like there was an invisible wall between us.

Until that gift agreement surfaced.

Then I finally understood—it was simply because he never cared about me at all.

I had to admit one thing:

Where a man spends his money is where his love lies.