This Time, I Asked for a Divorce

Shane Irving froze for a moment at my words, then laughed.

"What, throwing a fit stopped working, so you're trying something new? Who gave you that idea? Your best friend?"

He seemed certain I would never leave him.

He didn't even believe me when I asked for a divorce.

When I said nothing, Shane rubbed his temples, rose lazily to his feet, and lit a cigarette.

"Sure. When?" he asked.

He leaned against the wall in the brightly lit living room, his tall, slender figure slowly disappearing behind the curling smoke. His cold eyes stayed fixed on the plastic vase.

I hated it when he smoked, so Shane rarely smoked indoors.

I knew he was doing it on purpose.

He wanted to provoke me.

Perhaps he was more comfortable with the way I used to react when I caught him cheating.

I would grab everything in the house and smash it on the floor.

Once I let my anger out, it seemed as though things could start getting better again.

For seven years, that was how I dealt with my emotions.

And how he dealt with me.

But only now did I realize that a wound could close on the surface while the damage underneath remained.

I was already covered in wounds, raw and bleeding, yet I still fought to hold together this marriage Shane thought I could never break.

Was it worth it?

No marriage was unbreakable.

I calmly dropped the lace panties into the trash and took all the clothes out of the washing machine.

The lipstick stain on Shane's white shirt hadn't even washed out.

I tightened my grip on the cuff, turned to him, and spoke slowly and clearly.

"Today."

For once, Shane's expression froze. But he quickly flicked the ash from his cigarette, and his voice turned cold. "Fine. I'll go get changed."

As he turned away, he still remembered to give me an order. "Make sure you hang up the laundry. You know how much I hate wearing damp clothes in this rainy weather."

To him, getting divorced was as trivial as hanging up the laundry.

He didn't take it seriously at all.

Even after we filed the paperwork and stepped outside the courthouse, nothing changed.

Shane answered a call and hurried off again.

He left me with just one sentence.

"A month should be enough for you to calm down, right?"

I said nothing.

Once I got home, I put the entire load of laundry in the dryer.

Then I packed away my dry clothes, one piece at a time.

I turned and walked out of that "home."

Shane didn't know that I didn't need a month.

I was already perfectly calm.

Everyone knew I was hopelessly in love with Shane.

Ever since we were little and played house, I would cry and scream until he agreed that I was his only bride. I even ran to our parents, my nose streaming as I threw tantrums and demanded they take my side.

As we grew older, I became Shane's most unreasonable self-appointed defender. Every love letter he received had to go through me.

Then Shane fell for a girl.

She turned him down because of me.

I still remembered the look on his face when he saw her with her arm linked through another man's.

He was heartbroken. I'd never seen him look so miserable.

That was also the first time Shane lost his temper with me.

I approached him cautiously and took hold of his arm, hoping to comfort him.

"Shane, you still have me."

He flung my hand away. "Faye Walker, can't you take a hint? Will you please stop clinging to me?"

His shove sent me backward, and the back of my head slammed into a tree trunk. The impact left a deep gash that bled heavily.

It was the first time I ever saw Shane panic like that.

"Faye, are you okay? Does it hurt?"

I flashed him a toothy grin and pulled my hand away from the back of my head. It was covered in blood.

But I still said, "Don't worry, Shane. I'm fine."

He stared at my hand in horror.

I forced myself to keep smiling. "Y-you're not sad anymore, are you?"

Shane went rigid. He clutched my hand, a tangle of emotions flashing across his face.

He seemed desperate to say something.

But I passed out before he could speak.

I fainted at the sight of blood.

From that day on, Shane was no longer so cold toward me.

Little by little, he got used to me tagging along wherever he went.

Then his family ran into trouble.

I pressured and cajoled my parents into putting up nearly two million dollars in cash, then handed every cent to Shane.

During the darkest period of his life, when everyone else avoided the Irvings like the plague, I was the only one who stood firmly by Shane's side.

He drank so much to secure a deal that his stomach began to bleed.

I stepped in to drink for him.

The private room was filled with drunken revelry, the smell of smoke mingling with alcohol.

The potbellied, middle-aged men sneered at me. "Miss Walker, you can drink for Mr. Irving, but you'll have to drink two for every one of his."

I downed two drinks without hesitation.

Shane grabbed my hand. "Don't."

Everyone burst out laughing. "You've really got no self-respect when it comes to him, have you, Miss Walker?

"How about this? Forget the drinks. Spend the night with us, and I'll give Mr. Irving the deal. What do you say?"

"You'd do anything for him, wouldn't you—"

The bald man never got to finish.

Shane, who lay slumped on the floor a moment earlier, sprang up and punched him in the nose.

One punch, two, three... I counted every one. Shane punched him sixteen times for me!

At that moment, he was my knight in shining armor.

Over time, the things I did out of love for him began to blur.

But I never forgot those sixteen punches.

That night, the police took us both to the station.

Shane crouched in a corner, his face covered in blood.

Suddenly, he said, "Faye, why don't we get married?"

He sounded so certain.

Just as certain as he was now that I would never divorce him.

He believed that all he had to do was ask, and I would never refuse.

And he was right.

I went back to my parents' house.

Mom opened the door, bleary-eyed with sleep. Her eyes widened in shock when she saw me.

"Faye, what are you doing here so late?"

I wheeled my suitcase inside and gave her a playful pout. "Aren't you happy to see me, Mom?"

"It's not that..."

She stared at me. "You haven't spent a single night away from home since you married Shane.

"On my last birthday, I asked you to stay the night so we could spend some time together and talk. And what did my ungrateful daughter say? That you needed to get home and run Shane's bath! You didn't want to keep him waiting.

"And remember when you broke your leg while he was away on business? I told you to stay in the hospital and rest, but you insisted on limping home to sleep. You said you didn't want Shane to worry if he found out you weren't home!

"And then there was—"

I couldn't bear to hear any more and cut her off. "Please stop."

Mom rolled her eyes and jabbed a finger at my forehead. "Can't stand to hear it? You've done plenty of things like that over the years.

"You followed him around like a little shadow from the time you were a child. You practically wanted to be glued to his side!"

My face burned with shame as I crouched down and unzipped my suitcase.

Mom's eyes widened as though she only just noticed it.

"Don't tell me you've left home?"

"Yes." I nodded and casually dropped a bombshell. "Shane and I... got divorced."

Mom stood frozen, too stunned to speak.

I found my pajamas and was about to change when I heard him.

Shane's voice suddenly rang out through the otherwise quiet room.

"Mrs. Walker?"

His voice was husky and languid, with a hint of impatience. "Did you need something?"

Mom hurried to reply. "Shane, Faye's here with me."

My expression changed. I shot to my feet and reached for her hand to stop her.

But she was already rushing on.

"Did you two have a fight? Oh, come on. Every married couple has arguments. You know what a temper Faye has!

"She loves you so much. She could never bring herself to divorce you! Just come over and sweet-talk her a little, and this will all blow over!"

Mom quickly held the phone out to me. "Faye, talk to him."

A faint, trembling moan came from the other end.

I went cold all over. My hand froze halfway to the phone.

I shared a bed with Shane for seven years. I knew better than anyone.

I knew exactly what made him sound like that.

Shane threw back the covers, perhaps assuming I was already on the phone.

He gave a satisfied sigh, then spoke casually.

"Faye, regretting it already?"

He let out a quiet scoff.

The phone was on speaker, and his voice carried through every corner of the house.

"I gave you too much credit. You couldn't even last one night.

"I can't come over. I'm out of town on business. Get a cab home."

A lighter clicked again as Shane lit a cigarette.

I could almost picture his expression.

He would look smug and superior, certain he had won.

His next words sounded as though he were granting me a favor.

"Be a good girl and wait for me at home. I'll consider coming back before the procedure ends so we can withdraw the divorce petition."

Shane hung up.

He didn't even wait for me to say a word.

Under the dim yellow light, Mom quickly turned away and began to tremble uncontrollably.

The sight of her shoulders shaking drained away all the anger that flared inside me.

I walked over and hugged her. "Mom, why did you call Shane?"

She couldn't hold back her sobs. Her hands closed around my arms as she forced out each word.

"I was trying to help you. Every time you have a huge fight with him, you're the one who can't eat or sleep! You lose so much weight, and last time, you were so distracted that a car hit you and broke your leg.

"The doctor said that if you'd arrived any later, it might have been more than a broken leg. You could have..."

Mom turned and hugged me back, speaking slowly and firmly.

"Faye, if you can't live without Shane, your father and I can only accept that. All we can do is try to spare you some of the pain and help you two patch things up."

Mom wiped her eyes and nudged me toward the door. "All right. Stop this now and go home. Everything will be fine when Shane gets back from his business trip."

She stood in the corner, half her face in shadow.

I could see every conflicting emotion on her face.

The humiliation she endured at Shane's hands for years and the anger she was forced to swallow.

She was frustrated that I refused to see sense, heartbroken for me, and reluctant to send me back.

Only then did I realize that throughout my all-consuming love for Shane, I wasn't the only one left battered and bleeding.

So were my parents, the two people who loved me most.

How could I have been so selfish?

I wasted so many years of my youth on a man who wasn't worth it.

I gripped Mom's hand and spoke slowly, putting all my conviction into every word.

"Mom, I really am going to divorce Shane."

I knew Mom didn't believe me.

After all, I spent so many years loving Shane with everything I had.

I gave him my all.

No one would believe me if I suddenly said I wanted a divorce.

But Mom still supported every decision I made.

When I said I wanted to learn the family business, she asked Dad to give me a job at his company.

They were worried I would cause trouble, so they put me in office support instead of assigning me to a project team.

I figured they needed time to accept the change in me. I didn't ask for anything more and settled into my role.

Ten days passed in a flash.

Shane came back from his business trip.

But our next meeting took place at my father's company.

He came with his assistant to discuss business. I was asked to bring in coffee, and the moment I opened the door, I spotted the woman beside him.

She had red lips and dark hair, and her eyes curved into crescents when she smiled.

She kept leaning closer to Shane as she spoke, until she was practically in his arms.

I would never forget that face.

It was her: Lana Brooks.

The girl Shane almost dated.

So, she was the woman who'd been with him all this time.

As I calmly set down the coffee cup, Lana reached for it.

Scalding coffee spilled over the back of her hand.

She screamed in pain.

Shane shoved me aside, his temples throbbing. "Faye, are you stalking me?"

I tightened my grip on the cup. "No. Did you forget this is my family's comp—"

Shane frowned and cut me off.

"Save it! I just got back, and here you are. What else would you call it?

"I already told you. Just wait at home, and I'll go with you to withdraw the divorce petition before the month is up.

"Do you really need to pull these stunts?"

He looked so convinced he was right that I suddenly lost the energy to argue.

I let out a weary breath and shook my head. "Think whatever you want."

I turned to leave, unwilling to watch the two of them fawn over each other any longer.

But Shane called after me. "Faye, stop embarrassing yourself and go home.

"I already had my assistant drop off the dirty laundry from my trip. Go home and wash it. That's what you should be doing. It's what you're good at!"