9
That day soon arrived. Henry asked me to meet him late one night to discuss the divorce.
I called a bodyguard because I was afraid he might lose control again.
When I entered the room, Henry was alone, drinking one sip after another. In front of him were a photo of the two of us and my lost wedding ring.
He looked up, his face scruffy, and noticed the bodyguard behind me. He didn’t say anything. I sat down and lit a cigarette. “I heard you finally agreed to a divorce.”
Henry stared at the cigarette in my hand, dazed. I knew what he was thinking. I had quit smoking for four years for him because he didn’t like women who smoked. “You messed up my company just to divorce me?”
I put out my cigarette and sneered, “I told you I wanted a divorce, but blame now?”
didn’t agree. Who do you
you
Henry looked at me for a long time before starting to drink again. As I grew impatient, he finally said, “Okay, I agree to the divorce.‘
I quickly took the divorce agreement and a pen from my bag. Henry didn’t seem to expect that I was so determined to divorce him and carried the papers with me. A flash of hurt crossed his eyes. “Wendy, it’s my fault about grandma. Can you give me a chance? I was bewitched by Melissa. I will never do that again. I really love you.’”
Henry knelt down in front of me, his shoulders shaking slightly as if he was crying.
I was no longer moved. “We would have divorced even without the issue with Grandma. After all, you can’t even get hard when I’m standing in front of you naked, right?”
Henry’s face went pale in an instant. He looked desperate as he grabbed my hand and pressed it against his face. “No, Wendy, please. I only wanted to save face in front of my colleagues. I love you very much.”
Another slap landed in his face. I wiped my hand on the tablecloth. “A woman my age can’t hold a candle to your young and tender Melissa.‘
He seemed to lose his mind, grabbing my hand and slapping in his face repeatedly. “I made a mistake. Wendy, you have every right to slap me. Slap me as many times as you need to vent your anger.
I pulled my hand away, a look of disgust on my face. “Don’t touch me, I find it dirty. Sign it quickly if you don’t want to lose the company.’
Henry’s eves grew dull, and under my disgusted gaze, he finally signed the
With satisfaction coursing through me, I handed the signed divorce agreement to the bodyguard and
papers. turned to leave.
“Enjoy your last happy days, Henry.”
Soon, you’ll understand the true meaning of living a life worse than death.