Chapter 4

I dragged my weary body out of the isolation room and happened to hear Fiona's spoiled voice coming from the second floor: "Henry, there's going to be thunder tonight. I'm a little scared, can you coax me to sleep?"

I clearly saw Henry frown slightly, as if he was about to refuse.

The moment Henry saw me, he put on a gentle expression instead and said kindly to Fiona: "Okay."

He put his arm around Fiona and went into the master bedroom, without even giving me a glance.

I smiled bitterly and silently returned to the guest room.

I no longer had the strength to invest anything in this marriage, and instead poured all my energy into submitting to the Music Arrangement Competition.

I used to be the most promising genius in the music department, but Henry forced me to resign just because he saw my male colleague drive me home.

Because I loved him, I gave up my dream.

Now, I've finally picked up my creative inspiration again, planning to go back to music.

But just as I was focused on composing, the door was suddenly pushed open.

Henry and Fiona walked in.

Henry glanced at my composed drafts, and his face immediately darkened.

"I told you I don't like you doing these things." He kicked my stand, "If you still want me to agree to withdraw the divorce application, get rid of your composing thoughts."

Looking at his indifferent expression, I was suddenly overwhelmed by immense sadness.

Who cares what he likes?

Does he think he can still threaten me now?

But I didn't say anything, I just put away my drafts.

Henry thought I had compromised and left with Fiona, satisfied.

But what I didn't notice was that before Fiona left, her eyes lingered on my composed drafts for a few seconds, a hint of amazement flashing in her eyes.

Three days later, the competition organizer called—my work was suspected of plagiarism.

"What? Whose did I plagiarize?" I couldn't believe it.

"Fiona's work is exactly the same as yours. She's a well-known composer; we can only disqualify you."`

I suddenly remembered Fiona's gaze at the drafts before she left that day, and hurriedly rummaged through the room for the original drafts, but found nothing.

"Are you looking for this?"

Fiona's voice came from behind me. I turned around sharply and saw her holding my original drafts in her hand.

Fiona smiled triumphantly: "Just because I said I liked it, Henry gave it to me without hesitation."

She leaned close to my ear and whispered, "See? Henry likes me. Just accept your fate and stop asking to withdraw your divorce application. Everyone will be better off if you leave sooner."

My mind went blank, and I rushed to confront Henry, but only received a cold response:

"I told you a long time ago that I don't like you touching music-related things. If you had listened to me and given up, this would never have happened."

"You give the composed drafts to Fiona, and I'll go with you to withdraw the divorce application."

I looked at the man I had loved for seven years, my heart aching as if it were being torn apart.

Why is he always acting like this?

He always ignores my preferences and never cares about my feelings.

If I hadn't seen those love letters, I really wouldn't have believed that this man ever liked me.

I know it's useless to say anything now because the original manuscript is lost.

I've been judged guilty of plagiarism.

I said "Okay" then dejectedly returned to my room, locking myself in the darkness.

Until a phone ring pulled me back to reality.

"Amelia, are you making a comeback?" My professor's excited voice came through, "I saw your work at the Music Arrangement Competition!"

"Professor, I didn't plagiarize..."

"Of course you didn't!" My professor said decisively, "The music has a soul. Your talent is unmatched by others. How could you possibly plagiarize?"

She sighed, "It's just a pity that you gave it all up for Henry back then..."

"I was foolish before," I wiped away tears, "I've already filed for divorce and plan to start over."

"That's great! Would you like to come to my company in Vienna? Your older classmates are here, and we'll help you become the brightest star in the music creation field!"

"Really? Can I?"

"Of course you can!" My professor pretended to be angry, "I know your talent best. If you hadn't suddenly given up back then..."

I took a deep breath: "Okay, I'll go. I'll leave as soon as the divorce is finalized."

As soon as the words left my mouth, Henry pushed the door open, his eyes gloomy: "Where are you going?"

I quickly hung up the phone, forcing myself to remain calm:

"Didn't you agree to withdraw the divorce application? Let's go quickly."

Henry nodded immediately, but he seemed to realize he had shown too much eagerness and added:

"However, if you make another mistake in the future, I will still file for divorce."

I smiled wryly to myself.

There will be no next time.

I'm going to live a life that belongs to me.

We were silent the whole way.

The car stopped in front of the district court.

Henry unbuckled his seatbelt and said, "Get it done quickly, I'm busy."

I looked at the familiar doors of the district court and unconsciously slowed my pace.

I need to find a way to get Henry away. I absolutely can't let him come in with me.

"I..."

Just as I was about to speak, Henry's phone rang.

"Fiona? Don't cry, I'll be right there."

Henry hung up the phone and said to me, "Fiona needs me now. Here are my documents, you go in yourself to withdraw the application, and message me when you're done."

I lowered my eyelashes, hiding the relief in my eyes: "Okay."

After Henry left, I pushed open the doors of the district court.

The familiar deputy clerk greeted me with a smile: "Are you here to withdraw the divorce application again?"

"No," I handed over the prepared documents, my voice calm: "I'm here to get the divorce certificate today."

When I got back home, I placed Henry's copy of the divorce certificate on the coffee table and picked up my suitcase, which I had already packed.

The sound of the door closing was very light, but it cut off my seven years of wishful thinking completely, like a knife.

On the way to the airport, I rolled down the car window.

I closed my eyes and felt the air filled with the scent of freedom.

Goodbye, Henry.

This time, I truly don't want you anymore...