Chapter 384: Fed Up
"You were the one who wanted to get married!"
"You were the one who dragged me to the registry office!"
"And now, with just one 'I'm fed up,' you want a divorce?"
Her teeth clenched, tears pooling in her eyes. "Charles, what do you take me for? Something you can pick up when you want and discard when you're done?"
Charles's fingers tightened beneath the blanket, his knuckles turning white, but his expression remained utterly impassive.
He even quirked his lips—something between a smile and mockery. "You're reading too much into it."
Emily's chest heaved violently. "Then tell me the reason. The real reason."
Charles looked at her, a flicker of hesitation crossing his eyes. He wanted to apologize, to pull her into his arms.
But he couldn't. He had to hold firm. Just a little longer.
"The reason is—I don't love you anymore."
"I don't want to pretend anymore."
Each word was a bullet, tearing her apart piece by piece.
Emily's face drained of color. She stared at him as if trying to confirm he still recognized her.
She laughed—a bitter, hollow sound. "So all those days I spent at your bedside... you were just playing along?"
Charles lowered his eyes, avoiding her gaze.
Emily finally lost control. Tears spilled down her cheeks, but she stubbornly wiped them away, as if afraid he'd see her weakness.
She threw the agreement back onto the nightstand. "I won't sign it. I won't divorce you."
Charles's tone remained flat. "It doesn't matter if you don't sign. I can file for it."
Emily swayed as if that sentence had delivered the final blow. "You... you'd sue me for divorce?"
Charles said nothing.
Emily stared at him, suddenly recalling what she'd overheard Ollie say outside the conference room: "You shouldn't even be near her."
"Do you think I'm trouble?"
Charles's lashes trembled, but when he looked up, his voice was still cold. "I just don't want to continue."
Emily stared hard at him. "You don't want to continue? Then why did you start in the first place?"
Charles remained silent.
That silence was a wall, shattering every question she hurled at it.
Emily's chest rose and fell violently. She suddenly raised her hand, but in the end, she only pressed it against her abdomen, forcing down a wave of inexplicable nausea.
She took a deep breath, her voice trembling but every word crystal clear:
"Charles, listen carefully."
"You can stop loving me. You can be cold. You can act like we're strangers—but divorce? That's not your call."
Charles looked up at her, a flash of regret flickering in his eyes before he forced it back down. "It is my call."
Emily shook her head, tears streaming again. "What gives you the right?"
Charles's fingertips dug into his palm, the pain making his chest go numb. He couldn't say, "Because I don't have long to live." He couldn't say, "I'm afraid the Windsor family will destroy you in four years." He couldn't say, "I'm trying to protect you."
He could only turn himself into the person she'd hate most.
"Because I'm fed up. Because I don't want to be tied down by you anymore."
Emily froze. She looked at him, her expression shifting from shock to despair, and then to a stubborn, cornered defiance.
"Fine. You think I'm tying you down?"
She stepped closer, leaning down to lock eyes with him, tears still clinging to her lashes. "Then I'll tie you down for real. I won't sign. You can sue, the Windsor family can pressure me, the whole world can laugh at me—I don't care. I'm not leaving."
She turned and walked away.
At the door, she paused without looking back, her voice barely a whisper:
"Charles, you'd better really be fed up. You'd better not let me find out you're hiding something from me again."
The door closed.
The room fell deathly silent.
Charles stared at that door for what felt like an eternity before slowly pressing his hand down on the divorce agreement, as if trying to hold back the blood surging in his chest.
His throat tightened, his voice so low it was barely audible:
"Emily... please don't come near me anymore."
"I'll break."
The hallway wind was cold. Emily leaned against the wall for a long time, pressing down the suffocating ache in her chest. She didn't return to the room. Instead, she sat on the windowsill in the stairwell and pulled out her phone.
In the search bar, she typed a few words, deleted them, then typed again.
Finally, she posted anonymously on a social platform:
[My husband wants a divorce. What should I do? He was the one who proposed marriage, and now suddenly he says he's fed up and wants out. I don't want to divorce. What do I do?]
Within three minutes, comments flooded in like a tidal wave.
"He's fed up and you still won't leave? Wake up!"
"Check his phone, his accounts, his schedule. Sudden divorce? He's probably cheating."
"Don't get screwed financially. Get a lawyer immediately."
"Get pregnant first. Lock him down."
"Don't cling. The more you cling, the cheaper you look."
"Cold treatment. Cut contact for a month—he'll panic."
"Ask for the real reason. Stop being so pathetic."
Emily stared at the screen, her fingers growing colder.
Cheating?
Her first reaction was absurd—if Charles were cheating, he wouldn't use divorce as a cover. He'd be crueler, more direct.
But then she couldn't help wondering: Then what is it?
She typed again, tossing out the guess she feared most:
[What if he has some unspeakable reason forcing him to divorce?]
The comment section exploded.
"Stop reading romance novels. Reality doesn't work like that."
"'Unspeakable reason' = no money / debt / cheating / family pressure. Pick one."
"Stop deluding yourself. He just doesn't love you anymore."
"Someone who truly loves you wouldn't push you away, even if he were dying."
That last comment was a needle, piercing straight into Emily's heart.
She turned off her phone and sat on the windowsill in a daze.
Heartbreak doesn't come all at once. It piles up bit by bit—like snow burying a road. You keep walking until you realize there's no way back.
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm: Internet strangers can't give me answers.
Kate was coordinating security routes downstairs when Emily's call came through. She held her earpiece with one hand and answered with the other. "Emily? What's wrong?"
Emily's voice was faint. "Can you come upstairs? I need to ask you something."
Kate immediately sensed something was off. She shoved the earpiece at a nearby colleague. "I'm on my way."
Ten minutes later, Kate knocked on the stairwell door and found Emily sitting on the windowsill, pale as a ghost.
Kate's heart jumped. "Emily, are you sick? Should I call a doctor—"
Emily shook her head and looked up at her. "Kate, do you know Charles well?"
Kate looked confused. "I'd say so. Why?"
Emily's throat tightened. After a long hesitation, she finally spoke:
"He wants to divorce me."