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Her Provocation, My Broken Heart Novel Cover

Her Provocation, My Broken Heart

After eight years of marriage, Anya Sawyer continues to flaunt her infidelity, bringing home a hundredth man to mock her husband. When the newcomer insults him, Anya offers only a lazy confirmation of his insignificance. Forced to listen to their tryst all night, the protagonist reaches his breaking point. The next morning, he defies her orders for the first time. As their contract marriage nears its end in three days, he finally stops playing the role of her subservient spouse.
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Chapter 4

Anya's Engagement

I had chosen to do so because she said the scent of spice lingering on a person's body was embarrassing and undignified.

There were also many undignified acts that I could not indulge in.

Those included laughing in public, speaking in a louder voice than normal in public...

Those eight years of marriage did not give me happiness. If anything, it did its best to turn me into an unfeeling robot.

Now, I was so close to freedom. I was finally going to be able to behave like a human. That was what made me tear up.

It was around 10:00 p.m. by the time I returned to my residence with Anya.

When I opened the door, I was instantly greeted by the sight of Anya glaring at me from the living room.

She had called me over ten times during the evening, but I had not answered a single one of them.

"Where did you go?"

I did not reply until I was done changing out of my outdoor shoes and washing my hands. Then, I said blandly, "I had dinner with a friend."

She walked over to me. The moment she smelled the scent of spice lingering on my clothes, the scowl on her face deepened.

"Didn't I tell you to avoid spice? You stink."

I smirked at her and asked curiously, "What about when you ate spicy food with John?"

The disdain on her face grew even more obvious.

"How can you compare yourself with him? After all, he's not a Sawyer."

I remained silent as I thought to myself, " He might not be one now, but he will be soon enough."

After all, everyone could see just how much she favored him.

The following morning, Jerome flew abroad to settle the company's affairs.

When he was busy handling the business, I contacted a lawyer to draft up a divorce agreement.

I couldn't help but use the time to take in the moment before I signed the papers. I stared down at the page detailing how it would be a clean break, and I'd be leaving with nothing.

As soon as the agreement was signed, John sent me a video.

It was of a lavishly decorated hall.

The sign on the stage had the words, "Celebrating the engagement of Anya Sawyer and John Williams," pasted on it.

Meanwhile, Anya was talking to a manager about the engagement party.

"I only mentioned a wish to get engaged with her, and she's already rushing for a celebration," John said in the video.

"The ceremony is in two days. You're invited," he added with a cruel smirk.

My 30th birthday was in two days. Incidentally, it also happened to be the day I'd be flying off.

After that video, I blocked John's number.

I raised my head and looked at my surroundings. They were having the time of their lives in a ballroom while I was sitting in a tiny room that was barely a few feet wide.

I let out a self-deprecating laugh before rising to my feet and packing my bags.

Although I had lived here for eight whole years, I had not purchased anything just for myself.

Back then, I had moved in with just a simple luggage bag.

Now, my belongings all fit in the same bag I had used eight years ago.

Sometime later, Anya walked in just as I placed my luggage at the side of the living room.

"Make me a bowl of seafood chowder," she ordered.

She had said that with entitlement that I would bow to her every whim.

Then again, this was the last time I'd be doing this.

Hence, I did not rebuff her.

As I served her the bowl of chowder, she looked at me with mild confusion.

"Why have you been so silent lately?"

In the past, I'd be constantly talking her ear off about different topics.

Back then, I didn't care when she remained stoically silent.

I brushed her off, casually saying, "I don't feel like talking since my throat hurts."

She clicked her tongue in contempt before leaving with the covered bowl of seafood chowder.

She did not return, even on the day she was getting engaged to John.

I placed the contract from eight years ago and the divorce agreement on the table.

After one last look at the house I've lived in for eight years, I turned and left for the airport with my luggage in tow.

Anya called me as I was boarding.

I didn't even bother picking up the call. Instead, I removed the SIM card from my phone and tossed it into the nearest trash can.

From today onward, I'd be heading toward a future that solely belonged to me. I would finally be living a life on my terms and my terms alone.

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