Family Reunion? Thanks, But No Thanks

After Quentin signed the divorce papers, I headed to the bedroom to pack, keeping it quick and quiet.He leaned against the doorframe, acting way too casual for the moment. "It's still raining. You could wait until it stops. I mean, we're not technically divorced yet."I shook my head. "Signing means it's over. Better to leave now." Dragging this out would just make it messier."Suit yourself," he snapped, cold again, and walked off.On my way out, I glanced at Brad, practicing piano. His eyes flicked to mine for a second, then away, as blank and detached as ever. I'd gotten used to it.By the time I reached the door, Shonda Lace appeared—looking exactly how you'd picture the 'one that got away.'Shonda, Brad's physics tutor and Quentin's long-lost dream girl. Back in college, they were the "it" couple—him, the heartthrob; her, the queen bee. Everyone thought they were endgame, but she went abroad, and he stuck around to inherit the family empire.Somehow, I ended up as his wife

When I was young, my dad passed away, leaving my mom to juggle raising me and my younger brother on her own. She worked nonstop, but honestly? So did I.Even as a kid, I noticed the favoritism. The best food, drinks—anything remotely "good"—always went to my brother first. Mom made it crystal clear: "You need to work hard and make money to pay for your brother's tuition."The irony? He couldn't care less about school. He skipped classes like it was a sport and tanked every exam. Meanwhile, I busted my butt to be a star student, always topping my class.When I got into college, Mom got sick and told me to drop out so I could work full-time and support the family. I refused, juggling three jobs while staying in school to prove her wrong.And my brother? He sat around mocking me or begging for cash, which he immediately blew on bars and parties.Mom always had his back: "He's young! Let him enjoy life! Don't stifle his personality!"Then he got scammed and racked up over a hundred g

I'd just reached the entrance of my apartment complex when Quentin rolled down his car window."Congrats! Mind if I come up for a bit?"The last time I'd seen him was during the competition—at the lawyer's office, no less. Back then, he'd casually thrown out, "Are you really going through with the divorce?"I didn't bother answering. Just walked into the building without looking back. He said nothing further, and not long after, the divorce was final.Now, looking at this slightly drunk version of Quentin, I kept my voice cold. "No, it's not convenient."I turned to leave. A man and woman alone in an apartment? Yeah, no thanks.He stumbled out of the car and followed me anyway. "If it's inconvenient at home, how about dinner?""Sorry, I'm busy," I said, brushing him off again.I thought he'd finally take the hint, but nope. He kept trailing behind."Brad called out for you in his sleep last night," he said.I paused for a split second, then kept walking. "That has nothing to

To get away from Quentin and Brad, I had to move.I packed up and relocated to Avaport, the capital city, ditched my old phone number, and finally got some peace. No more interruptions. Just calm, quiet days that felt like a breath of fresh air.Time flew.A few days before my exams, I made the mistake of heading back to Caytonville. And who's the first person I run into? Quentin. Of course.He looked terrible—pale, exhausted. "You're finally back," he said.I sighed. If I'd known he was lurking around, I would've booked a hotel."I've been waiting for you here every day. Mabel, you don't have to keep avoiding me."I let out a cold laugh. "Quentin, you don't have to keep clinging to me either."He pulled out a cigarette, but not lighting it. "I regret everything. Since you left, I haven't had a single decent night of sleep."We've gone through chef after chef, maid after maid. None of them are right. Brad hates them. I hate them."A few days ago, I got sick—acute gastritis. T

"Quentin, that's your problem."I tried to step past him, only for him to grab my arm again."Brad can't let you go either!""Then get him a new stepmother!" I snapped. "Shonda seems perfect!"His lips parted, stunned for a second before he latched onto the idea like a lifeline. "So, you're leaving... because of Shonda?""Mabel," he stammered, scrambling for words. "There's nothing between us. We were never together. We're just old classmates. When I said I had someone in my heart back then, I wasn't talking about her. I just didn't want to follow my mother's orders so easily."And Shonda teaching Brad? She called me after her family went bankrupt, asking for a part-time job. That's it—""Enough!" I cut him off.I didn't want to hear more. Excuses, justifications—they didn't matter. Whatever we'd had couldn't be fixed with words. My feelings for him hadn't vanished overnight, but they were gone all the same."Quentin, shamelessness doesn't suit you. I'm moving on. You should t