Chapter 4

Rosalie was completely stunned.

I turned and went upstairs, leaving her alone in the living room.

I opened the closet and started taking my clothes down one by one.

After three years, I did not have that many clothes.

Adrian Whitmore had never gone shopping with me, and he had never given me anything.

No wedding anniversary gifts, no birthday gifts, no Valentine's Day gifts.

Looking back now, it was laughable.

I folded the last coat and placed it into the box. Just as I was about to tape it shut, my phone rang.

I picked it up and saw a message from Adrian.

"I have a business dinner tonight and won't be home for dinner. Rosalie just moved in. Please arrange a guest room for her."

I put the phone down and continued packing.

By evening, I had almost finished packing the walk-in closet and the study.

When I went downstairs, Rosalie was sitting on the living room couch drinking coffee.

She looked up when she heard me, and her gaze fell on the divorce agreement folder in my hand.

"What's that?"

I did not answer. I placed the folder on the coffee table and sat down in the armchair across from her.

Rosalie stared at the folder for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed.

"A divorce agreement?"

I said nothing, which counted as confirmation.

Her eyes lit up. It was not surprise. It was excitement.

"You're really divorcing him?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"When he comes home, I'll talk to him.

"This marriage was always a trade.

"Now that everything has been settled, ending it sooner is better for everyone."

She stared at me for a long time, her eyes complicated.

"Natalie."

Her voice suddenly dropped.

"Do you really not like him, or are you pretending?"

The question made me freeze for a moment.

Did I not like him?

Three years ago, when we first got married, I had expectations.

That man was handsome, successful, and stood out wherever he went.

I thought that as long as I was good enough, considerate enough, and sensible enough, one day he would see me.

But very soon, I stopped hoping.

"It doesn't matter anymore."

I answered Rosalie.

"Whether I liked him or not, it's all in the past."

At nine that night, Adrian came home.

He first glanced at Rosalie, who was sitting on the couch, and his gaze softened.

"Rosalie, are you settling in all right?"

Rosalie smiled at him, her voice sweet as honey.

"It's nice."

Only then did Adrian turn his gaze to me.

His eyes swept over me, then landed on the folder on the coffee table before shifting to the boxes behind me.

His brows furrowed slightly.

"What are those boxes?"

I stood up from the couch, picked up the folder from the coffee table, and handed it to him.

"Adrian, we need to talk."

He did not take the folder. He only looked at me, a trace of confusion in his eyes.

"What is this?"

"A divorce agreement."