Chapter 4: Divorce Request

Marceline POV

I sat on a bench in the garden of our mansion, knitting a sweater for Roman while watching him play happily on the grass. I had returned home after dropping Celesta at her place, and Roman was already back from school. The sun was dipping low, painting the sky orange.

“Daddy!” Roman’s voice rang out suddenly.

I looked up and saw him running toward Philip, who lifted him into his arms and twirled him around with a smile. My heart clenched, and I quickly dropped my gaze back to my knitting needles. My fingers moved automatically, but my chest trembled. I couldn’t bear to watch them.

It wasn’t that Roman didn’t deserve his father’s love...he did, he deserved every ounce of it. But Philip didn’t deserve Roman. He didn’t deserve the title of father, or husband, anymore.

Still, I bit down on my bitterness. For Roman’s sake, I would endure. I would never take away the happiness he found in his father’s arms.

Philip’s footsteps drew closer, and the bench shifted slightly as he sat beside me.

“Let’s have a talk,” he said quietly.

My eyes stayed on my work. “Okay,” I replied flatly, my hands still moving.

He said nothing for a while, just stared at me. As if he didn’t know how to start.

“What is it?” I finally asked, raising my head to meet his eyes. I saw hesitation there, his lips parting and closing again.

“Is the company facing an issue?” I asked, a note of concern in my voice though scorn twisted inside me. I already knew the real reason...he just didn’t know how to bring up the divorce.

“No, it’s not that,” Philip muttered, rubbing his forehead.

“Then what is it?” I pressed calmly.

“I… I…” He hesitated, then finally said in a quiet tone, “Let’s get a divorce.”

My eyes widened, though I had seen this coming. “What did you just say?” I asked, feigning shock.

“I want us to get a divorce,” he repeated, more firmly this time.

“Divorce?” I echoed, staring at him. “Is this a prank, Philip?”

“It’s not a prank, Marceline. I’m serious.”

“Why do you want a divorce?” I asked, my voice cracking with sadness despite all my preparation. Hearing the words aloud pierced my heart. My eyes stung with tears. “Have I done anything wrong in our marriage?”

“No, you haven’t,” he said heavily. “I just want us to get a divorce.”

“I haven’t done anything, and you suddenly want a divorce?” My voice rose with anger and pain.

“Keep your voice down, Roman is here,” Philip cautioned, glancing toward our son who had stopped playing, startled by my outburst. “Continue playing, Roman!” he called, forcing a smile.

I scoffed. “If you care about him, you wouldn’t be asking for a divorce.”

“Of course I care about him. Even if we separate, we’ll still co-parent,” he said, rubbing his tired eyes.

A broken laugh escaped me, bitter and sharp. “Co-parent?” I repeated. “Do you really think we can co-parent after a divorce, as if nothing happened? If we can co-parent after separation, then we might as well stay together and raise him.” My voice was low, trembling with fury.

“Don’t make things hard for me, Marceline,” Philip muttered.

My head snapped toward him, my face twisted in disbelief. “Make things hard for you?” My voice trembled with rage. “After everything I sacrificed for this marriage? I gave up my career, Philip! I became a housewife so one of us could always be there for Roman. I cooked, I washed, I did everything even though I was never raised to do those things. I did it because I wanted a happy home. A peaceful home. And now you want to throw it all away without reason? Aren’t you selfish?”

Tears spilled down my cheeks. Memories stabbed at me...late nights in the kitchen, mornings spent caring for Roman alone, years of dreams abandoned.

“I know,” Philip said, guilt flickering in his eyes. “But I just don’t feel this marriage anymore.”

I laughed again, hollow and broken. “You don’t feel this marriage anymore?” I wiped my tears, glaring at him. “Alright. Then who is the other woman?”

“There isn’t any other woman,” he replied quickly, avoiding my eyes.

I sneered. Of course, he wouldn’t admit it was Anastasia. I knew their plan to divorce their spouses and be together.

But one thing was certain: I would never grant him that divorce. Not in this lifetime.

Not because I still loved him...my love for him had died the moment I saw him with her. But because I would never allow them the happiness of being together. Anastasia had already filed for divorce from her husband, all for Philip. Fine. Let's play this game.

I straightened my shoulders, my voice calm but firm. “If there isn’t another woman, just your feelings,” I said, my tone final, “then I will not grant you the divorce.”

My eyes burned into his as I spoke, making my decision clear.

The garden fell silent. The only sound was Roman’s distant laughter as he ran with his toy in hand ..too innocent to know his parents’ world was crumbling around him.