No More Pleading for You

At the charity gala, Eric proudly flaunted a 15-carat diamond ring—a bold symbol of his devotion.

"Ms. Shirley Huxley is my one true love," he announced.

The media swarmed the story, and Shirley quickly became the center of attention.

Layla sat holding a tablet, watching the interview videos on repeat.

"Mom, how many carats is your wedding ring?" she asked.

I looked down at my bare fingers, a bitter smile tugging at my lips.

"Half a carat," I said.

She snorted. "How pathetic."

That ring was the very one Eric had carefully slipped onto my finger on our wedding day.

Though I knew it was initially a birthday gift meant for Shirley, I still cried tears of joy when he placed it on me.

After we got married, I felt a sense of contentment and happiness. Even though Eric never kissed me, we appeared like any other married couple.

He remembered my birthday and looked after me when I was ill.

Because I feared the pain, he accepted my decision not to have a second child.

In those days, he seemed to have let go of Shirley, and for the first time, happiness felt close enough to touch.

But unexpectedly, Shirley returned to the country. She accused me of telling Greta to evict her while she was pregnant—an ordeal that drove her into depression and resulted in the loss of her baby.

After that, everything shifted.

But in the end, none of it mattered anymore.

At this point, the only thing I looked forward to was the day I'd finally set foot in Parisoir.

Early the next morning, Eric walked into my room after a night out.

"Anna, you're so cruel," he suddenly said.

I was bewildered.

It turned out their public display had sparked a wave of online gossip.

Rumors began swirling that Shirley wasn't really Eric's wife. Then, using their striking outfits as a clue, someone had even tracked down my old social media profile.

Back then, I had proudly posted about finishing those matching outfits.

Overnight, Shirley was dragged through the mud as the other woman.

Eric's immediate response was to accuse me of revenge. "Anna, I already told you I'm fine with you asking for a kiss. So why are you still going after Shirley?"

I was too worn out to respond.

Just then, Layla burst in, holding a water gun.

"I hate you!" she yelled, pulling the trigger without hesitation. "You're a bad woman! Mama Shirley said we'd be happy without you!"

Cold water splashed across my face, blending seamlessly with the tears I couldn't hold back.

Nonetheless, the chill was nothing compared to the sting of Layla's words.

Even so, I chose to forgive her. I was leaving, after all.

From now on, she could stay with the "mother" she truly wanted.

Suddenly, my social media was flooded with new followers.

Most of them encouraged me to expose Shirley. Some even wanted to hire me as their personal fashion designer.

Meanwhile, Shirley's accounts were bombarded with hateful comments and insults.

Eric, feeling sorry for her, made a cruel suggestion. "Anna, maybe it's time you admit you're the homewrecker who tore me and Shirley apart. Remember, you were the one who drove her away and caused her miscarriage."

Tears streamed down my cheeks.

Despite ten years of marriage, I meant nothing to Eric.

Not only did I have a husband who betrayed me, but also a daughter who couldn't distinguish right from wrong.

In that instant, I knew I had made the right choice in walking away.

Despair wasn't sparked by impulse. It was forged from years of mounting disappointments.

"Fine. Take this as my wedding gift to both of you!" I declared.

Eric's fury ignited immediately. "What wedding gift are you talking about? Anna, I already said you can kiss me. What else do you want? Quit talking about divorce, okay?"

Humiliation, bitterness, and anger twisted within me.

A smile broke through my tears.

I couldn't wait any longer. I needed to draft the divorce papers right then and there.

All I wanted was to leave as soon as possible.

While interviewing me, the entertainment reporter's eyes were filled with sympathy. "Did you know the home you shared with Eric has already been handed over to Shirley?"

As I looked into the camera, tears streamed uncontrollably down my face. "Yes, I know. The down payment for that house came from my father's compensation."

The room fell into silence.

I could hardly believe that the place I once called home had quietly slipped through my fingers.

It was time to go.

I set the divorce papers on the dining table and took one last look around. What I had thought was my sanctuary had become nothing more than rubble.

When I closed the door behind me, I didn't glance back.