Chapter 1

I was impossible to please.

I only drank water at exactly warm enough temperature, ate only the tips of strawberries, and never peeled my own grapes.

Even on my wedding day, when one petal fell from my bouquet, I refused to get out of the car until Ethan Kingsley came back with nine hundred and ninety-nine fresh white roses.

Everyone said I was spoiled.

But he lifted the hem of my dress and smiled.

“My princess is allowed to be high-maintenance.”

Then he hired a stubborn new assistant named Claire Hayes.

One night, during a storm, Claire arrived soaked through from the rain to deliver a contract.

“I’m used to it,” she said. “I’m not as delicate as Mrs. Kingsley.”

Ethan actually took the shawl from my shoulders, wrapped it around her, and personally drove her home.

I cried from anger.

He comforted me all night, but at the end, he still said, “She doesn’t have someone to look after her the way you do. Don’t make things hard for her.”

On my birthday, Ethan had to fly to an island resort for a business negotiation. He promised that after the meeting, he would stay there with me for a vacation.

When we reached the airport, I found out Claire had canceled my companion ticket without permission.

“Mr. Kingsley is going there for business,” she said. “Taking his wife along would only create trouble.”

I thought Ethan would blame her.

Instead, he avoided my eyes and walked toward the boarding gate with Claire.

“Don’t make a scene. I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”

I stood in the airport with my makeup ruined from crying.

After he returned, I demanded that Claire be fired for overstepping.

Her eyes reddened.

“I was only thinking about the company. If Mrs. Kingsley can’t tolerate me, then I have nothing to say.”

Ethan stepped in front of her.

“Don’t bully her just because I spoil you.”

That night, I cried over him for the third time.

He heard me.

Then he deliberately ignored me for seven days, waiting for me to lower my head first.

He had forgotten the rule he himself had written into our prenuptial agreement.

If he made me cry once, he would transfer ten percent of his shares to me.

If he made me cry three times, he would leave the marriage with nothing.

This time, I did not wait for him to come and comfort me.

…

On the seventh day of our cold war, Claire sent me a video.

In a dim private lounge, she leaned over Ethan, loosened his collar, and held a glass of warm water to his lips.

Ryan Cole laughed from the side.

“Your wife still hasn’t made up with you?”

Ethan gave a low, mocking laugh.

“I used to enjoy coaxing her. Now I’m tired of it.”

Claire said softly, “Mrs. Kingsley was spoiled too much. She doesn’t know how to care for anyone.”

Ethan looked at her, and the coldness in his eyes gradually softened.

“She really isn’t as easy to be around as you are.”

The video ended there.

I sat alone in the dark living room. The darkness rose inch by inch over my chest, and even breathing felt like struggling to break the surface of deep water.

At eleven that night, Claire helped Ethan home. She took off his coat for him before leaving.

When Ethan saw me, a certain smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, confident and sure.

“You said you didn’t care, but haven’t you been sitting here waiting for me?”

I did not answer.

I placed the video in front of him.

“Did you mean what you said?”

His smile faded.

“You heard it already. Why ask?”

Ethan was silent for a moment. Then he loosened his tie, his eyes showing no guilt, only exhaustion.

“Ava, I’m tired of serving you.”

My whole body stiffened.

But he continued calmly.

“You’re afraid of the dark, so even when I came back from business trips too exhausted to stand, I still stayed on video calls until you fell asleep.”

“Your shoes hurt your feet, so I crouched down in front of everyone to rub them for you.”

“You casually said you wanted to see snow, so I pushed back my meetings and flew you to New York overnight.”

“Every time you got upset, I had to drop everything to comfort you. Every tear you shed meant I was the one at fault.”

He cut open every memory we had.

The moments I had cherished too much to forget had now become proof, in his mouth, that I was spoiled and unbearable.

My throat tightened, and my voice trembled despite myself.

“But you were the one who told me I didn’t have to be reasonable with you.”

He had been the one to lower my guard.

He had taught me to speak when I felt wronged.

He had allowed me to be willful.

And now, he hated the version of me he had made with his own hands.

“People change,” Ethan said, his tone calm and cruel.

“I like someone more considerate now. I’m tired.”

“Claire can run a project with me even when she has a fever. She’s gentle and thoughtful. When I’m exhausted, she gives me a shoulder massage. She doesn’t make me work hard to soothe her and then give me attitude afterward. She doesn’t even need me to soothe her. Being with her, I don’t have to guess what she’s thinking every second or worry that one wrong word will upset her.”

When he talked about her, there was a tenderness in his eyes I had not seen in a long time.

I could barely stand. My mind filled with memories of us, and my voice came out hollow.

“So you’ve fallen in love with her?”

Ethan was silent for a few seconds.

“I have feelings for her.”

Tears fell without warning.

Ethan saw them, but he did not panic and wipe them away as he used to. He only frowned impatiently.

“I’m not planning to separate from you. I still have feelings for you. As long as you fix your temper and apologize to Claire, we can continue.”

“Ava, this is the last chance I’m giving you.”

I laughed through my tears.

He was the one who had changed.

He was the one who had broken his promise.

Yet he still stood above me as if his willingness to continue this marriage was already a gift.

When I remained silent, Ethan completely lost patience.

“Think it over yourself.”

He picked up his coat and turned away.

The door slammed shut.

I looked at the empty foyer and finally understood.

The man who once promised he would always come toward me would no longer turn back.

But this time, I would not chase after him either.

I wiped my tears, opened the safe, and took out the prenuptial agreement.

On the last page, it was written clearly:

If Ethan Kingsley makes Ava Hart cry once, he shall transfer ten percent of his shares under his name to her.

If it happens three times, he voluntarily waives all marital property.

Now, it had happened exactly three times.

I took off my wedding ring and called my attorney.

“I want a divorce. Please draft the papers.”

“Are you sure, Mrs. Kingsley?”

I looked at the tightly closed door and answered softly, “I’m sure.”

“I want him to honor the agreement. And I want this marriage to end.”

Ethan had taught me with his own mouth that a loved woman should not have to swallow her pain.

So even if he no longer loved me, I would not wrong myself to keep him.