The Favorite's Game

Samuel didn't hear my desperate cries for help.

He didn't hear me whisper, "I can't see anything."

He couldn't hear me sobbing either.

In that instant, I felt myself let go of him. Life was short. Why waste them obsessing over a hopeless cause?

I had been given a second chance at life. I would never make the same mistakes twice.

…

Jenna wanted me to think carefully. Even if I divorced Samuel, business and private matters should still be kept separate.

After six years of marriage, our interests were so tightly intertwined that separating them would be painful. It was like tearing muscle from bone.

At the moment, Samuel was the only one with a company large enough to match mine.

I smiled.

Everyone seemed to have forgotten that Samuel had never been my only choice. In truth, I had chosen him because I loved him.

After leaving Ziegler Manor, I received a text from an unfamiliar number. From the looks of it, the number seemed to be from Grisdale.

The text message read, "I heard you're divorcing Samuel."

I raised an eyebrow and stared at the message for a long moment. Then, I deleted it and blocked the number. After that, I called Dad and told him to hire the best lawyer in Grisdale, Neil Colton.

The next morning, I arrived at the courthouse just as a black car pulled up.

Samuel stepped out, while Whitney remained in the passenger seat.

She lowered the window and flashed me a gentle smile before explaining, "Don't misunderstand, Ingrid. I had a fever last night. Sammy took me to the hospital so—"

I walked right past her.

Her smile vanished instantly.

Samuel's expression soured as he fumed. "Ingrid, didn't you hear Whitney talking to you? When will you stop acting so spoiled?"

I let out a soft chuckle and smirked, retorting mockingly, "Samuel, I'm honestly curious. Charles is disabled. It's not like he's dead. But you're running around taking care of his wife. Is he really okay with that? Or do you guys like threesomes?"

Samuel's face contorted with fury as his hands balled into fists.

He roared, "What the hell are you talking about? I don't like Whitney like that. She's my sister-in-law—nothing more. When will you ever stop? All this because I peeled a banana for her? Are you seriously divorcing me over that? If you're sick in the head, I'll take you to the psychiatrist—"

His sentence was cut short when I stepped forward and slapped him hard across the face.

Samuel stared at me with disbelief. From his eyes, I could see that besides being bewildered, he was at a loss about how to react.

Whitney rushed out of the car to check on him immediately. She stared at the red handprint that was gradually becoming more obvious on his cheek.

Her eyes reddened as she stepped in front of him protectively. "Ingrid, how could you hit Sammy? What did he do wrong? If you're angry, take it out on me! How could you…"

Suddenly, her voice broke, and she started crying.

I sneered coldly.

Surprisingly, Samuel didn't spare Whitney a glance. Instead, he looked straight at me, his eyes showing a tangled mess of emotions.

Inside the courthouse, just as I was about to sign, Samuel suddenly grabbed my hand. His fingers were trembling faintly.

"Ingrid, are you sure you want to keep this up? You know I won't bow down to you. I'm not going to beg you to remarry me. When the 30 days are up, I won't withdraw the application."

He spoke slowly and deliberately, as if he was reminding me. Perhaps he was also reminding himself.

Once I signed, there would be no turning back.

He was counting on the fact that I couldn't leave him and assumed I was merely acting out to vent my anger. He was sure that underneath it all, I still loved him.

But this time…

I smiled and carefully signed my name on the document with steady strokes.

Now that I thought about it, if I hadn't come to Darniva back then and walked into his life, we wouldn't have started a relationship. So, we were simply returning to the starting point now.

A while later, when I received the receipt for the waiting period, Samuel stared daggers at me.

His glare was icy as he huffed, "Ingrid, you're the one who can't live without me. Don't come crying and beg me to take you back later."

With that, he took Whitney's hand and walked away.

I stood still, watching his figure fade in the distance.

In my heart, I said firmly, "No. That day will never come."