Chapter 119
James called on the third day after I moved to my new place.
I looked at his name flashing on the screen and hit decline.
He called again. I hung up again.
After this happened five times, he sent me a message:
[Sophia, I think we should talk about the divorce in person.]
I stared at the message for a few seconds, then my fingers tapped quickly across the screen:
[There's nothing to talk about. You just need to sign the divorce agreement, mail it to me, and we'll set a time together to submit the divorce application to the court.]
Less than a minute after I sent the message, he called again.
This time I answered, but didn't say anything.
"Sophia." His voice sounded tired. "Let's meet up and talk this through."
"Talk about what?" I asked. "About your affair?"
"I didn't touch her!" he said urgently. "How many times do I have to say it? Why won't you believe me?"
"James, I don't want to waste my breath on you anymore." I cut him off. "Didn't I tell you? Whether or not you slept with her, the moment you chose her, you gave up on our marriage."
James went silent on the other end.
I continued: "The moment you made that choice, there was no going back for us. Nothing you say now matters."
He said, "Sophia, you know I don't want a divorce."
I laughed. "James, hearing those words from you is really funny."
"I'm serious."
"So am I," I said. "I'm giving you two choices. Either sign the divorce papers, and we part on good terms."
"Or if you don't sign, I'll post the video I have online and let everyone see your little show with Amelia."
"Grandma will find out, and so will the shareholders of the Smith Group. Can you handle those consequences?"
"Sophia!" His voice suddenly turned cold. "Are you threatening me?"
"Yes, I am threatening you," I said bluntly. "James, it's time for you to make a choice."
"Sophia, why are you being so aggressive?"
I sneered. "Fine, I'll give you three more days to think about it. If I haven't received the signed agreement in three days, I'll post the video online."
With that, I hung up directly.
Not long after, Andrew called.
"Sophia, did something happen on your end?" he asked.
"I'm fine," I said. "Just finishing up some unfinished business from before I left."
"What did he say?"
"He won't sign. Says he wants to talk in person."
"So what are you going to do?"
"I gave him three days," I said. "If he still won't sign after three days, he can't blame me for forcing his hand."
Andrew was quiet for a moment. "Do you need my help?"
"Not yet," I said. "But if he really doesn't sign, I might need you to help me contact the media."
"No problem." He reminded me, "You're living alone now, take care of yourself."
"I know."
After hanging up, I looked at my empty new home, and suddenly felt an emotion I couldn't quite describe.
Andrew had helped me find this place. Good location, simple décor.
The day I moved in, he was busy helping me organize everything, working up a sweat.
"You don't have to go to all this trouble," I said at the time.
"It's no trouble," he said, wiping his sweat. "I'm your senior. If I don't help you, who will?"
I didn't say anything.
He looked at me, his eyes very gentle. "Sophia, there's something I want to..."
I knew what he was going to say and immediately cut him off. "Andrew, I'm hungry."
He didn't continue that topic. "Okay, I'll take you to eat."
After dinner, we took a walk, and he never brought up that topic again. Since then, he's called me every day.
I know how he feels, but I really don't have the energy to think about these things right now.
This marriage with James has drained me too much.
I need time to recover.
Two of the three days passed in a flash.
No word from James.
I had Andrew contact the media to get ready.
Around eight in the evening, the doorbell rang.
I thought it was Andrew again, but when I opened the door, it was James.
He stood outside, reeking of alcohol, eyes red, looking somewhat disheveled.
"How did you find this place?" I asked coldly.
"If I want to find you, I can always find you," he said, trying to come in.
I blocked the doorway. "If you have something to say, say it. If not, please go back to your own home and stop showing up at other people's places."
"Sophia, let's talk."
"We have nothing to talk about."
"James, don't do this," I said expressionlessly. "You really don't look dignified right now."
He looked at me. "Sophia, you're more ruthless than I am."
I laughed. "James, I could never be as ruthless as you. After all, for Amelia's sake, you could even abandon your own child."
"I—"
"Stop explaining," I interrupted him. "I don't want to hear it. I'm only asking you one thing: are you going to sign the divorce agreement or not?"
He fell silent.
Looking at his silence, I just felt amused. "You should go."
"If I haven't received the signed divorce agreement by three o'clock tomorrow afternoon, you're done for." After saying this, I shut the door directly.
It was quiet outside for a few seconds, then I heard his footsteps leaving.
I leaned against the door and let out a long sigh.
I had just sat back down on the sofa when the doorbell rang again. Thinking it was James coming back to pester me, I opened the door impatiently and snapped at him, "Are you ever going to stop? Didn't we already make everything clear just now? Can you please stop coming to find me?"
Only after I finished speaking did I see clearly who it was. "Andrew, why are you here so late?"
"I passed by a cake shop today and saw a cake you like, so I specially bought it for you." He smiled and held up the cake box in his hand.
I let him in. I took the cake from him and put it on the coffee table, then poured him a glass of water.
The cake was pretty big. I cut it in half with a knife and gave him half. We ate and drank while chatting.
My phone chimed. I picked it up and glanced at it.
[I agree to the divorce. I'll sign the divorce agreement tomorrow and mail it to you. We'll set another time to submit the divorce application to the court.]
I couldn't help but feel puzzled.
Just now, James seemed so unwilling to divorce, so why did he suddenly change his mind?
Seeing me staring at my phone, Andrew asked curiously, "Who sent you a message? Why do you keep staring at it?"
I turned my phone to show him. "He agreed to the divorce."
"Isn't that a good thing?"
Right, isn't that a good thing?
I'd been hoping to divorce him all along. Now that this day has really come.
Why does my heart still hurt?
My phone chimed again.
I looked back at my phone.
[I wish you and Andrew a happy life together.]
I frowned.