Divorce Me, I'm Done Serving You!

Since the day Ayla Keaton married Troy Winston, she never once thought about divorce. But then, his first love came back.

Ayla was in the hospital when the doctor spoke to her in a flat voice.

"Ms. Keaton, this miscarriage caused serious damage. Your chances of having children again are very low. You need to mentally prepare yourself."

Her mind buzzed.

She had worked for three years to get pregnant. Finally, two months ago, she had succeeded.

And now, this afternoon, a car had darted out of nowhere, knocking her down.

The doctor frowned. "Ms. Keaton?"

"Alright, I understand. Thank you, Doctor."

Ayla didn't like showing weakness in front of others.

She blinked quickly, forcing back her tears, then stood up and walked out.

Behind her, she caught the whispers of two nurses.

"Something this serious happened to her, and her husband never showed up?"

"Don't even mention it. Right after her procedure, she cried so hard she almost passed out and begged him to come. He never showed."

"Oh my gosh. If that isn't a sign he doesn't love her, then what is? If this doesn't and in divorce I'll be shocked." Ayla walked farther away and missed the rest of their conversation.

The truth was, not only did Troy refuse to come, but he had also snapped at her over the phone. "The baby's gone, so what? Stop crying about it. I'm busy. Stop bothering me."

After that, every call she made went unanswered.

For three years, Troy had always treated her this way-cold and distant.

The truth was she had grown used to it.

The marriage had only happened because three years ago Ayla had accidentally saved Troy's grandfather, Martin Winston's life. Martin liked her and pushed for the match. Without him, she would have never married Troy.

From the start, Troy never wanted her.

Still, today she kept calling him, hoping he might care for the sake of their unborn child.

Clearly, she had hoped for too much.

Shaking off the thought, Ayla pulled out her phone to call a cab. Just then, a message popped up.

It was from Max Bennett, Troy's best friend. He had sent her a video.

She clicked on it.

The first shot was of an enormous bouquet of roses-at least 999 of them. There were so many flowers, the frame couldn't hold them all. 

Then the camera shifted left. Troy appeared, standing beside a woman.

Skyla Summer.

X

Ayla's pupils tightened. Her fingers gripped hard around her phone.

In the video, voices rose with excitement. "Skyla, Troy knew you were coming back to the country today. He's been planning this welcome party for weeks! He really went all out.

"Come on, give him a hug to thank him!"

"A hug? Please, just kiss already. It's not like you two haven't done it before. I still have that video of your three-minute intense kiss."

Skyla shook her head with a smile. "Not anymore; it's not appropriate."

Before she could finish, Troy pulled her into his arms.

"Skyla, welcome back."

He held her so naturally, so gently, it made the whole crowd scream.

The crowd screamed and cheered. "See? He doesn't care one bit!"

"Kiss! Kiss!"

The video ended there-cut off.

Because it had been recalled.

A second later, a new message appeared. "Sorry, I sent that by mistake."

It was recalled so quickly. Max probably thought Ayla hadn't seen it. He never explained further.

Ayla stared at the chat window for a long time.

Then she laughed bitterly.

So this was the "important thing" Troy had been talking about.

She had spent three years trying to warm his cold heart, but instead of waiting for him to love her back, his first

love had returned to the country.

Troy's heart would never belong to her.

It was time to wake up from this greedy dream.

When Ayla got home, she started to pack her suitcase.

Over the years, her life had been simple-work, routine, nothing fancy. She rarely bought anything for herself. Other than clothes and important documents, there wasn't much to take. A single 26-inch suitcase was enough.

In less than 30 minutes, everything was ready.

Then she waited for Troy to come home.

It was two in the morning when the front door was pushed open.

Troy walked through the living room and met her eyes.

He wasn't surprised.

Many late nights after business dinners, Ayla often waited up for him.

"You had surgery today. Shouldn't you be resting?" His tone was flat, without the slightest care.

"I was waiting for you."

Since the moment he came in, her eyes never left his lips.

Thev were perfectly shaped-except for the cracked corner.

His white shirt collar carried faint lipstick stains, and even his neck showed marks.

He had kissed someone.

Maybe more.

A sharp pain stabbed her chest.

Troy had hardly touched her in their three years of marriage. Each time it was because they didn't want to after their families pushed them to have a baby.

He never kissed her, never showed tenderness. Every time, he went straight to the act, leaving her in pain.

When it was over, she longed for a hug, but he'd turn away and disappear into the shower.

All she ever got was his cold back.

Troy's gaze shifted to the suitcase by her side. He seemed to understand immediately. "You saw Max's video, didn't you?"

"Yes, I saw it."

Up close, Ayla could smell the alcohol on him-mixed with heavy perfume that made her stomach turn.

"We're getting-" She didn't get to finish before Troy cut her off.

"Since you have found out, let's just divorce. You knew from the start-if Skyla hadn't gone overseas, I never would've married you."

At this point, Ayla couldn't argue. "Fine."

"It's late. Get some rest. You can move out tomorrow-"

"It's fine. I've signed the divorce papers." 

She pointed to the coffee table.

X

On their wedding night, Troy had handed her the divorce papers. Only today did Ayla finally find the determination to sign them.

This time, Troy was the one who looked surprised.

He frowned, as if doubting whether she was serious.

"I know you've been drinking. I made some lemon tea.

It's in the kitchen," Ayla said after a pause.

Habit, maybe. For years she had done everything for him, hoping he'd love her back.

She had gone from barely knowing how to cook to becoming skilled, though it came with burns, cuts, and scars on her hands.

Every meal for Troy meant hours of effort-buying groceries, cooking, and plating.

He was picky. No matter how good the food was, he never once said it tasted great. Still, she could see he often enjoyed it.

Troy knew one word of praise would keep her happy for days, but he never gave her that joy.

"I'm leaving." Three years of marriage ended with nothing more to say.

Troy frowned. "Stay tonight."

"No." Ayla grabbed her luggage and walked out.

Troy didn't like it when Ayla disobeyed. His face darkened.

Then the front door shut.

Just then, Max called. "Troy, are you home yet? Did you ask Ayla if she saw the video? Look, I swear I didn't mean for that to happen. Even if she saw it, it's probably fine. You two fight all the time anyway."

"She divorced me," Troy said flatly.

X

Max was shocked. "What? Divorced? Over a video? No way! Ayla wouldn't leave you. If she really did, I'll eat my hat!"

"I'm the one who brought that up," Troy said.

Max went quiet.

Everyone knew when Troy brought up divorce, it didn't mean much. Ayla was famous for clinging to him like

glue-he could never shake her off.

"Didn't you try that last month? And it happened again in less than a month? Gosh! It's shorter than the moon cycle."

"This time I bet she'll come back in less than twelve hours," and I was right. This time, I'll bet one day. If I win again, you're buying dinner!"

Troy glanced at the closed door. Outside, a car engine started.

Ayla seemed determined this time.

But Troy's cool eyes narrowed, not the least bit worried.

"She won't even make it to tomorrow night," he said.

"She'll be back by morning."