Chapter 3

Lilian stood alone in the nearly empty bedroom, the kind of silence she knew all too well. A quick pinch of her skin reminded her that this was indeed her reality—a life that, ironically, had become the very fantasy she used to hate. She barely recognized herself anymore.

The old Lilian, the one with dreams and confidence, would hardly recognize the woman packing up her belongings to leave Chris’s mansion once and for all. Her hands hesitated over the sleek, untouched dresses hanging in the closet, each a reminder of the naive hope she'd once had.

 "I was such a fool," she whispered bitterly, running a hand along the fabric. Each dress was bought to impress him, but she might as well have been invisible.

 The memories were painful to relive—her marriage to Chris had felt like a dream at first, a fairy tale in which she'd finally won the man she adored. But three years had only proven how mistaken she’d been. Chris had never truly acknowledged her as his wife. He dismissed her, belittled her, and turned away every time she sought his attention, preferring the company of Rita instead. But those days of yearning were over. She was done being his shadow, done living on scraps of affection.

A faint smile tugged at her lips as she recalled the plan she’d set in motion that morning. She’d arranged to move her things out while Chris was at the office and had already sent him the divorce papers. She’d even left him a simple text: City Hall. 10 a.m. sharp. Let’s make it official.

Yet she knew Chris. His pride wouldn’t let him simply accept her challenge without retaliation. She could picture him smirking, smugly assuming she’d come crawling back. He was wrong, of course, but the thought made her spine straighten as she resumed her packing.

By midmorning, she arrived at City Hall only to find that Chris was missing as expected. She tried to reach him by phone after walking around for a bit, but he didn't answer, and it went straight to voicemail. Typical. In annoyance, she drove to his workplace.

 Upon her entrance, the assistant barely glanced up. Focusing on his computer screen, he said abruptly, "Excuse me, ma'am, but Mr. Newton is currently in a meeting and cannot be interrupted."

"Meeting?" She responded with a strong yet soft voice. "Get out of here. I am going in."

 I'm sorry, Madam, but no matter what you say—"

"Oh, I have many things to say."

 She gave him a hard look, noticing his hesitation as he shifted uneasily. She leaned in closer. “And unless you don’t want me to tell Mrs. Jenkins in HR about the secretary you’ve been meeting in the storage room, I’ll suggest you move aside.”

The assistant’s face was drained of color. “Fine,” he muttered, stepping aside.

Lilian took a deep breath before she pushed open the door to Chris's office. The sight she encountered was revolting, something she never anticipated. Chris was lying on the couch without a shirt, wrapped up with Rita, whose hair was messy and her lipstick was smeared. Initially, they were too distracted to notice her. Despite the revolting nature of the scene, Lilian remained in place as a silent observer and experienced an unusual calmness come over her.

 In a voice as sweet as honey, she whispered, "Please don't let me interrupt."

 Chris went from looking shocked to looking furious as they pulled away from each other. He hurriedly fastened his shirt and shouted, "Why are you here?"

 She raised her phone, snapped a few photos, and remarked, "I wanted to save this memory. This will make a lovely addition to our divorce file.”

 Rita let out a shriek, scrambling to gather her clothes. Chris’s face hardened. “Delete those pictures. Now.”

“Hmm,” Lilian tilted her head, her expression almost amused. “Delete them? How about this—show up tomorrow at City Hall, 10 a.m. sharp, and these photos stay just between us. Miss the appointment again, and, well, Her smile was anything but kind. “Let’s just say the city could use a little entertainment.”

 Chris stepped forward; his eyes narrowed. “You think you can blackmail me?”

“I think,” she said, meeting his gaze with steel, “that you’re running out of chances. Chris, you can't scare me any longer. I know who you are and what you are entitled to.

Years of bitterness and betrayal weighed heavily on them as they peered down at one another in a tight silence. At last, a sign of doubt appeared on Chris's face as his composure faltered.

“Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll be there.”

 Satisfied, Lilian turned to leave, but Rita’s voice stopped her.

 “You think this makes you the better person?” Rita sneered. “Dragging out your pathetic marriage when it was clear he never loved you? Maybe if you’d been a little more...interesting, he wouldn’t have looked elsewhere.”

 Lilian’s steps faltered, but only for a moment. She looked back, her eyes cold and unwavering. “Keep him,” she said, voice laced with disdain. “You’re welcome to every miserable, empty moment you’ll have with him.”

Then, with an odd feeling of freedom, she walked out of the office. She started to feel like the old Lilian, the one who knew her worth.