My 33 Humiliations

“What was the document you asked me to sign yesterday?”

I lifted my head.

A flicker of sadness crossed my eyes before fading back into calm.

“You didn’t ask when you signed it, and now you suddenly remember?” I asked.

“I just thought of it. Besides, you’re my wife. Don’t think you’d do anything to harm me,” Benedict replied confidently.

He seemed unconcerned.

I lowered my eyes, hiding the pain beneath them.

“Are you not afraid I made you sign our divorce agreement, or a property transfer?”

At my words, Benedict’s heart tightened.

He frowned, a trace of panic and displeasure flashing across his face.

“Are you joking with me?”

He stepped closer, gently cupped my face, and said in a voice both tender and firm, “You know this. If you ever left me, I would go insane.

“If I really had to choose between the two, I’d rather it be a transfer of my assets.”

Benedict looked at me, unable to conceal the deep affection in his eyes.

I knew it was true that he could not live without me, and that his feelings were sincere.

So the “joke” I made was also real.

What I had asked him to sign was precisely the divorce agreement dissolving our marriage.

Five years of pursuit, three years of marriage.

Benedict and I were finally coming to an end.

…

That afternoon, when I arrived at the firm, I went straight to the human resources office and submitted my resignation letter.

The HR manager looked up, recognized me, and showed clear surprise.

“Have you really made up your mind, Maya?

“You’ve been with Mr. White the longest. We always said in private that even if the firm went bankrupt, you would never leave.

“So why so suddenly…”

The manager did not finish the sentence, and I lowered my eyes.

Before yesterday, I had believed the same thing.

I had built the law firm from nothing with Benedict, step by step.

We worked together and struggled together.

When we received our very first case, Benedict used the legal fee to treat me to a lavish meal.

That day, we sat in a restaurant fifty-four floors high, looking down at the endless stream of cars below.

Benedict held me and said that he was blessed to have had me by his side.

A sad smile tugged at my lips.

“Everyone has their own path. I’ve already made up my mind.”

The HR manager looked at me, regret filling their eyes.

“Since you’ve decided, then I wish you well in the future.”

I thanked her softly and walked out of the office.

As soon as I returned to my desk, my phone chimed.

I picked it up and saw that Anna had posted on her social feed.

The photo showed Benedict lying on a bed, his sleeping face peaceful and serene.

The caption read: [Drank too much last night. Luckily, I had someone to look out for me. He was thanked generously, of course, wink wink.]

Afraid I might miss it, she even tagged me.

This was not the first time Anna had done this.

Out of every ten posts she made, three mentioned me directly, and the remaining seven were visible only to me.

In the past, I would always be easily provoked by these petty tactics.

I argued with Benedict. I caused scenes.

Every time, he dismissed it lightly and told me, “She's just a friend with benefits. You’re my wife. Don’t be so petty about it.”

Benedict was certain that I loved him and would never leave him, so he hurt me without restraint.

I smiled, though my heart broke into a thousand pieces.

Suddenly, a colleague beside me let out a startled cry. “Look, Mr. White’s girlfriend is here.”

I followed their gaze.

Anna walked into Benedict’s office in high heels, her hips swaying with each step.

Then his office blinds were lowered, cutting off my view of the couple.