Right after I liked my husband Jeremy Lewis's latest post on X, chatter erupted among my coworkers.

In that post, the same Jeremy who wouldn't even do the dishes was out in a vineyard, wearing an expensive coat, diligently pruning grapevines.

And to top it off, he even added a proud caption.

"A real man handles business in the boardroom and isn't afraid to get his hands dirty at home."

And to think, before he left this morning, he told me he had to rush to another state for a business meeting.

So this was the "business trip"—helping a female coworker back in her hometown.

I stared at Jeremy's smug face in the photo, feeling nothing at all.

After silently giving the post a like, I locked my phone.

I didn't know what kind of storm was coming next, but I did know one thing for sure: Jeremy and I were done for good.

Not long after, he called. His voice was laced with fatigue from the manual labor and irritation.

"Rosie, she's just a coworker. What's with that passive-aggressive comment online?

"Lilian doesn't come from much and needs my help. What's wrong with that? A pampered rich girl like you could never understand how tough life is for people like her.

"Delete the comment. Don't embarrass us in front of our coworkers. You might not care, but I do!

"I promise I'll go visit your parents with you next holiday."

Next holiday—again.

I'd lost count of how many times he'd said that. I didn't feel a thing anymore.

Besides, there wouldn't be a next holiday for us.

Once Thanksgiving passed, our divorce cooling-off period would be over.

I was just about to tell him not to bother when I heard a sudden yelp on the other end of the line like he'd tripped over something.

Then he quickly hung up.

Frowning, I set my phone down and went back to working on the project proposal.

After a while, my phone started blowing up with notifications, one after another, urgent and relentless.

When I finally checked, I saw Lilian Scott had tagged me in the work group chat.

She even screenshotted my like and called me out directly, her tone sharp. "Rosie, what's that supposed to mean? If you look down on my rural background, just say it—don't hide behind the sarcastic remarks!

"Mr. Lewis helped me prune grapevines because he doesn't think he's above it. You, on the other hand, just sit behind your keyboard, throwing insults. You are such a horrible person."

The group chat exploded.

People I knew, and plenty I didn't, started siding with Lilian, all eager to suck up to her.

What was even more absurd was that Jeremy jumped in himself and sent a message.

"Rosie Sabien, apologize to Lilian immediately, or you'll be suspended for two weeks!"

His bias toward Lilian was so obvious.

What chilled me even more was that none of my usually friendly colleagues spoke up for me.

It was as if they'd all agreed to turn on me.

Someone even accused me of "discriminating against rural folks," saying I was petty and always picked on the new hires.

I sneered and didn't bother to argue.

If this mess gave Jeremy an excuse to fire me, it would be exactly what I wanted.

After all, he had signed the divorce papers three months ago.

It was just an ordinary Friday. When I handed him the divorce agreement, I still had a shred of hope.

I thought maybe he'd at least glance at them, maybe ask why we were ending things.

But Jeremy didn't even look up from his phone. He signed it in a few quick strokes, like he was replying to some unimportant email.

I stood there frozen, staring at his messy signature. It felt like a knife slicing through my chest—sharp, cold, and shaking me with pain.

I couldn't help asking, "You read it that fast?"

He frowned, clearly annoyed, still typing messages on his phone.

"It's something Lilian gave me to sign. What could be wrong with it? Don't just stand there. Get out."

My fingers tightened around the papers, knuckles turning white. It felt like an invisible hand was crushing my chest, making it hard to breathe.

So this was how little I mattered to him—not even worth a second of his attention.

The only one he trusted was Lilian.

I looked down, just in time to see the tension in his brow ease, replaced by a soft smile—the kind you'd see on a teen in love.

I peeked at his phone screen. Even though they were in the same building, he was exchanging flirty messages with Lilian.

The texts were filled with intimacy, even planning which bar they'd meet at for drinks tonight.

***

The phone suddenly rang, snapping me out of my thoughts.

It was Jeremy again.

He was probably calling to pressure me into apologizing to Lilian in the group chat.

I didn't want to answer.

But after seven or eight calls, a coworker handed me the phone and whispered, "Mr. Lewis is looking for you. Sounds urgent."

I reluctantly picked up and asked coldly, "What is it?"

"Rosie, you're so bold now, huh? Ignoring my messages and not picking up my calls? Trying to go against me?"

Jeremy started scolding, sounding like he was scolding a disobedient employee.

"What do you want?"

He snorted.

"Someone just called me from the Courthouse and said they're arranging a divorce mediation for us. You knew about this?"

My breath caught.

"Did he finally remember signing the divorce agreement?" I thought.

But the very next second, his accusations poured down.

"Rosie, I thought you had some class. I can't believe you'd use such despicable tactics!

"Hiring someone to impersonate a Courthouse official, threatening me with divorce? You've shocked me!"

His words left me dumbfounded, and I could hear Lilian's voice from the side.

"Forget it, Mr. Lewis. She probably just doesn't want you working too hard at my house; she just wants you to go home."

Jeremy sneered.

"Excuse me? If she truly cared, she wouldn't torment me all night after I've had a long, tiring day and finally want to rest!"

I also laughed—a laugh that made me feel cold inside.

I remembered that night. He was with Lilian at an art exhibition.

He came home reeking of alcohol, completely oblivious that my allergic asthma had me gasping for air, barely holding onto consciousness.

What he said as "tormenting him all night" was me gasping for breath, struggling to call an ambulance.

But when he heard the knocking, he didn't even ask what was wrong.

Instead, he stormed out, cussed out the paramedics, and locked the door.

The next day, he found me too sick to get out of bed.

He worried I'd affect his mood, so he packed his bags and moved into Lilian's apartment "temporarily."

Left alone, I relied on leftover medication to get through six days until my condition finally eased, but it left me with chronic chest tightness whenever it was damp.

Yet, he never remembered any of this.

He only remembered me "disturbing" his peace.

"Rosie, I announced in the group that you're suspended for half a month. Any objections?"

"Just fire me, or I'll resign. Either works."

Jeremy seemed surprised by my words. He paused, then softened his tone, thinking I was backing down. "No need to fire you. Since your attitude seems sincere enough, let's try a different punishment.

"Lilian said she can overlook your nasty remarks, but from now on, all your project commissions must go to her as emotional compensation.

"Now, hurry up and thank Lilian for this chance to mend your ways."

Their words made me laugh with anger.

They publicly humiliated me, yet somehow twisted it around to make it my fault.

Jeremy was a pro at this kind of manipulation.

Just like before, Lilian once clearly got the client proposal date wrong, but insisted I didn't inform her.

Another time, she got drunk while entertaining a client and broke their phone, almost causing a complaint against us.

Yet Jeremy didn't blame her; he publicly scolded me in front of the whole company for not "teaching her well."

I had had enough of this.

So I replied indifferently, "Thank her for her kindness, but I'll resign. It's better for everyone."

Without waiting for his response, I hung up.

My colleagues around me gave me curious, gossiping looks, but when I met their gaze, they quickly lowered their heads, pretending to be busy.

Then, an unknown number called.

"Hello, I'm from the Courthouse to do a final confirmation. Do you and Mr. Lewis need divorce mediation?"

"No, we don't."

"Okay, then please come to the Courthouse next weekday to get your divorce certificate."

I hung up and took a deep breath.

This seven-year relationship was finally over.

* * *

After finishing my work, I wrote my resignation letter and handed it to HR.

Jeremy wasn't in the office, so they'd have to process it for me.

I didn't want to stay in that building a second longer.

As I passed the HR desk, I caught a glimpse of a decoration.

A gilded magnolia ornament, already coated in a thin layer of dust.

That magnolia was a souvenir Jeremy gave to everyone at the company seven years ago when we first got together.

He spent days picking it out, claiming it symbolized our love—pure and everlasting.

I could still picture him holding my hand, smiling, and saying, "Rosie, we'll be like this magnolia, never wilting."

But now, it sat dusty in a forgotten corner, much like our relationship, ultimately replaced by time and new people.

The HR staff member caught me looking at the ornament and snorted.

"Stop looking. It's useless to stare at it; it's not yours anymore.

"Your resignation is processed. You can go."

I snapped back to reality, forcing a smile, and said nothing.

Leaving the HR office, I went back to my desk to pack.

But I found my table covered in junk—waste paper, empty cans, snack bags—and all my personal items were tossed on the floor.

I looked around to see my colleagues looking at me with amused, expectant smiles.

They figured I was done with Jeremy, so they didn't need to keep up appearances anymore after I left the company.

The indifference of human nature was laid bare at that moment.

Not wanting to give them the satisfaction, I simply swept all the junk off my desk onto the floor, dusted my hands, and walked away.

The moment I left the building, I contacted a real estate agent to list my current apartment for sale, then went to apply for a passport.

Seven years ago, I gave up my dream of traveling the world and stayed in this city for Jeremy.

Now that we were divorced, I could finally chase that dream again.

I once told Jeremy I wanted to explore every corner of the world, hand in hand with him.

But he never took me on a real trip, always saying his projects kept him too busy, making excuses again and again.

I felt sorry for his struggles and chose to stay at his company, serving as his assistant for seven years.

Everything changed after Lilian arrived.

Jeremy dumped all the company's responsibilities on me while he traveled around with Lilian.

At first, I thought he was on business trips, until Lilian started posting photos of them together on social media.

Each photo showed them smiling intimately, with famous landmarks as backdrops and captions filled with ambiguous suggestions.

It turned out that my sympathy for him became an excuse for his reckless behavior.

Even now, Lilian continued to show off their relationship on social media, knowing Jeremy would always have her back.

Jeremy, who never cooked, personally brewed fruit wine for Lilian's family, laughing like a teenager by the stove.

The usually aloof Jeremy humbly served tea to Lilian's relatives, even sharing a cup of plain tea with Lilian amidst their playful teasing.

Jeremy usually couldn't sleep in unfamiliar beds, but he was in Lilian's courtyard, leaning on her shoulder, smiling contentedly.

This time, I learned my lesson. I just liked the posts, no comments.

Then, I blocked Jeremy and Lilian. Out of sight, out of mind.

I spent a few days exploring nearby cities, and once my divorce certificate was in hand, I was ready to start my world tour.

On the day I got the certificate, I felt strangely serene, almost relieved.

But when I got back to the apartment and pushed open the door, I heard several voices inside.

"Jeremy, Lilian is from the countryside, but she looks more reliable than Rosie.

"She doesn't really have any bad habits, just likes a little drink now and then. That'll change naturally once she has a child."

"Mom, what are you saying? Rosie and I are husband and wife!" Jeremy sounded smug yet perfunctory.

I sneered.

I had never touched alcohol and had no bad habits, yet his parents saw me as somehow not feminine enough.

"So what if you're husband and wife? You can still get divorced!

"I think Lilian is a down-to-earth girl, better than Rosie, that woman who only knows how to freeload!"

Jeremy's father's voice cut in, dripping with disdain.

It seemed they already saw Lilian as their future daughter-in-law.

They had completely forgotten how, seven years ago, they were so impressed by my high education and my ability to help Jeremy's career.

I didn't want to hear another word, so I pushed the door open and walked in.

The three of them saw me, and their expressions shifted dramatically.

Jeremy was the first to react. He pointed at me aggressively and yelled, "Rosie, you finally back? All these days with no word, are you done with me?

"If you keep throwing tantrums, I swear I'll lock you out and won't let you back in!"

I paused, then looked up at his self-righteous face.

It seemed he still hadn't realized we were divorced.

Whenever I did anything Jeremy disliked, he used to lock me out.

It didn't matter if it was freezing cold or boiling hot—or if I was barely dressed.

Once, simply because I put less sugar in Lilian's coffee, he immediately frowned and brutally ordered me to leave.

Then he and Lilian spent the entire night alone in the apartment. Their laughter from under the door chilled me to the bone.

Just then, Lilian walked out of the bedroom, dressed only in loose pajamas, rubbing her drowsy eyes as if she'd just been woken up by the noise.

She glanced at me and said impatiently, "Why are you so noisy? Just kick her out. Will she dare to say anything?"

At her words, Jeremy's eyes showed a fleeting moment of hesitation.

His parents, however, immediately backed Lilian up. "Exactly! A worthless woman like her, how dare she stay!

"Jeremy, you're too soft-hearted. Rosie, that freeloader, would never dare defy you!"

Instigated by his parents, Jeremy's eyes slowly filled with annoyance.

Finally, he turned his head and waved me away, like shooing a stray cat.

"Just go. Let me calm down for a few days. Lilian will be staying here with me.

"If you don't behave, when I make up my mind to divorce you, you'll be too late to cry!"

I sneered. "No need to wait."

With their shocked eyes on me, I took two divorce certificates from my bag and slammed them on the table.

"As you wished, we're divorced."