My Husband's Fake Divorce for His Mistress

Laughter and playful shouts echoed from outside.

Every so often, Finnian called out, “Dad!”

And Dorian would always respond in a gentle voice.

Listening to the sounds outside, I was calculating my next steps in my mind.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when my phone rang.

It was my mom.

She asked if I’d had a birthday meal yet or at least some cake.

It was then I realized I hadn’t eaten anything all day.

Before hanging up, she anxiously asked when I’d be coming back home.

In the five years since I left, my visits could be counted on one hand.

At first, it was because my job was still unstable.

Then Dorian said it was too much hassle to keep going back and forth.

As I stepped out of the room, Finnian suddenly threw a toy at me.

“Why are you here? Are you trying to take my dad away again?”

Before I could say anything, Aurelia bent down and apologized to me.

“Sorry, Evangeline, he’s just a kid. Don’t take it to heart.”

From the other room, Dorian said with a stern look:

“It’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Besides, if Finnian is reacting this way, maybe you startled him before.”

He then moved to stand protectively by Aurelia and her son.

“Evangeline, surely you’re not going to argue with a five-year-old?”

“If you do, I’d be embarrassed for you.”

I stayed silent, but somehow all the blame was on me.

“Carry on,” I said. “I’m just here to grab something.”

I opened the fridge door.

The spiced honey cake I had painstakingly made was gone.

I glanced at the living room.

There, on the table, was a cake, messy and half-eaten.

Dorian caught my gaze and said indifferently:

“That cake was yours? Finnian said it didn’t taste good, so he left it.”

“If you want, I can get you another one.”

I tossed the cake I had worked hard on into the trash and said calmly:

“No need.”

With that, I opened the door and stepped outside.

I had barely taken a few steps when Dorian came running after me, grabbing my arm.

“Evangeline, where are you heading?”

I looked at him in confusion.

This was the first time Dorian had left Aurelia to follow me outside.

“Why did you come after me?”

Dorian seemed taken aback by my question.

In the past, his coming after me would have filled me with joy.

No matter what he had done before, I would have forgiven him.

Dorian’s expression faltered, as if he hadn’t expected my reaction to be so indifferent.

“I... I saw you leave without saying anything, so I came to check.”

I shrugged it off.

“I’m just going out to find something to eat.”

At that moment, Aurelia approached with Finnian.

“Evangeline, Finnian just said he wants to go have fondue. If you don’t mind, join us.”

“Think of it as my way of making it up to you.”

“I don’t like...”

Before I could finish, Dorian had already accepted on my behalf.

He told me to get the car.

Since I had already decided to leave, I didn’t want to argue with Dorian.

So I went along with it and headed to the garage to get the car.

When I drove back, Dorian naturally got into the back seat with Aurelia and Finnian.

It was only after we were on the road that he seemed to realize this was awkward.

He tried to explain, a bit uncomfortably:

“Finnian is still young and clings to me, so I...”

I glanced at the rearview mirror, seeing the picture of them as a close-knit family, and cut him off impatiently:

“It’s good that you’re sitting together. After all, the front passenger seat can be dangerous.”

My words seemed to stun Dorian.

He had said something similar to me once before.

Back when we argued about the front seat.

He had said, frustrated:

“What’s the big deal about the front seat? It’s not even safe.”

For the rest of the drive, I felt like an outsider, observing the cheerful interactions of the people in the back seat.