Chapter 2

Ever since the divorce agreement was signed, Harry had stopped taking care of the household.

He no longer woke up at 5:00 am every day to prepare nutritious breakfasts for the children, nor did he stay up late waiting for Laura to return from business dinners so he could make her something to ease her hangover.

All the household chores he had once considered his responsibility were now left to the maids.

At first, no one noticed anything unusual. Until Ethan was reprimanded by his teacher for being late to school, Emily couldn't find her homework, and Laura's pocket watch stopped working.

The maids scrambled to keep everything in order, but no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't live up to Harry's standards.

Dirty dishes piled up in the kitchen. The children's toys were scattered across the living room, and Laura's freshly ironed dresses never seemed quite smooth enough.

The once perfectly organized household gradually descended into chaos.

When Laura opened the bedroom door, she saw Harry leaning against the window, reading a book. Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting patches of light and shadow across his figure.

"How much longer are you going to keep this up?" she asked from the doorway, her voice low.

He closed his book and looked up at her. "I'm not keeping anything up."

"Then, why have you stopped taking care of the house?" She took a few steps closer, the faint scent of cedarwood perfume following her. "Are you still upset about what happened last time?"

"No, I'm not." He set his book aside. "I just don't feel like doing it anymore."

Laura narrowed her eyes and tapped her fingers against the table. "Give me a reason," she demanded.

"I'm tired," he replied calmly. "We have maids. There's no reason I have to do everything myself."

He remembered how, in his past life, he had gotten up before dawn every single day.

Laura's coffee had to be served at exactly 185°F, and her sandwiches had to be toasted until golden and crispy. The children's clothes had to be washed by hand, and even their socks had to be perfectly ironed.

What had he gotten in return? Laura's tenderness toward Thomas, his children's growing attachment to their beloved Thomas, and a lonely death for himself on his 62th birthday.

"Harry." Her voice turned icy. "If you're throwing a tantrum, just admit it. Stop acting like a three-year-old."

A faint smile tugged at his lips. "I'm not throwing a tantrum. I just want some rest."

Before he could say anything else, the bedroom door suddenly flew open. Ethan and Emily stormed inside, their faces twisted with anger.

"Daddy's so lazy!" Emily shrieked. "We want Thomas to take care of us instead!"

Ethan joined in, "Thomas is more patient than you! He works harder than you, and he's ten thousand times better than you!"

Laura kept her eyes fixed on Harry, seemingly waiting for him to back down. But he merely took a deep breath and said softly, "If you think he's so much better, then get him to stay here with you. I don't mind."

The room fell silent.

Her expression darkened. "Are you sure?"

Harry took another deep breath and replied, "Absolutely."

"Mommy, let's go!" Emily tugged impatiently at Laura's sleeve. "I want Thomas to come over right now!"

"Once Thomas is here, we won't need you anymore!" Ethan made a face at Harry and shouted, "Just go away! Get out of this house!"

Laura gave Harry one last look. When he showed no sign of changing his mind, she turned around and marched out with the children.

He remained where he was and listened to the sound of the car engine fading into the distance. Slowly, he closed his eyes.

Soon enough, they would get exactly what they wanted. He would leave them for good, and he would never set foot in this house again.