Divorce.

The word fell from Louise's lips, feather-light, yet exploding in Adam's ears like twin thunderclaps.

The impatience on his face solidified instantly.

A few seconds later, as if he had heard the world's greatest joke, he sneered.

"Louise, what kind of madness are you in now?"

"Just because I didn't come back to eat your food?"

He yanked off his tie, tossed it carelessly onto the sofa, and walked over, attempting to take her hand. His tone carried a patronizing coaxing.

"Alright, stop making a scene. I'm exhausted from discussing projects today; I don't have the energy to argue with you."

Louise’s hand tilted slightly, evading his touch.

Her movement was subtle, yet it carried an undeniable finality.

Adam's hand froze in mid-air, his expression darkening completely.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Louise finally lifted her eyes. Those eyes, once as gentle as a doe's, were now as calm as a frozen lake surface.

She didn't answer his question. Instead, she pushed a document sitting on the table toward him.

"I’ve already signed it."

"I waive rights to all assets."

"The car, the house, the savings—I want nothing. Tomorrow morning at nine o'clock, meet me at the law firm entrance."

Adam’s gaze fell upon the bold, glaring words at the top of the document.

[Divorce Agreement]

His pupils constricted violently, as if seared by the text.

A surge of absurd rage flooded his heart.

"You're crazy! Louise, have you actually lost your mind!"

He snatched up the agreement, waving it furiously. "Just for a meal? You want a divorce? What about your three years of sacrifice? Those three years you stayed by my side while I was a vegetable—was that all for nothing?"

He thought that bringing up those three years would, as usual, be the ace card to manipulate her.

However, Louise’s expression didn't shift in the slightest.

She just watched him quietly, as if looking at a clown.

"Three years?"

She repeated softly, the corner of her mouth curling into an extremely faint, cold smile.

"Adam, while you were in the coma, you kept calling a name."

"An-An."

"I used to think you were calling for me."

Under her calm gaze, Adam’s face changed, inch by inch.

From anger to shock, and then to the embarrassment of being exposed.

Louise continued.

"Until today, when I went to the St. Regis Hotel."

"I saw you, I saw my parents, and I saw my good sister, Anna."

"Only then did I know that the 'An-An' in your heart was never me."

The last shred of pretense was torn away completely.

Adam’s expression shifted from panic to a coldness and cruelty that no longer bothered with disguise.

He put away all his fake tenderness, his eyes becoming sharp and icy.

"So, you saw everything?"

He stopped pretending entirely, letting out a cold laugh and slamming the divorce agreement onto the table.

"Good. It saves me the trouble of wasting my breath explaining to you."

"That's right. The person I love is Anna. From the beginning to the end, it was her!"

"Three years ago, if it weren't to save her, I never would have been in that car accident!"

This sentence shattered the last remnant of illusion Louise had left.

So that was it.

So, the man she had guarded for three years was lying there because he had saved another woman.

And she, like a fool, had been moving herself to tears for three whole years.

Looking at her instantly pale face, a morbid sense of satisfaction rose in Adam’s heart.

He took a step forward, looking down at her, his voice full of cruel mockery.

"Louise, you didn't really think I loved you, did you?"

"Look at yourself. You always wear outdated clothes, you smell like greasy food—you are boring and insipid."

"If it weren't for the fact that you worked hard and were somewhat dedicated over these three years, I would have divorced you the very first day I woke up!"

"I need a partner who is glamorous to take out in public, a family-in-law that can help me in business. Anna and her parents can give me these things. What about you?"

He looked her up and down with contempt.

"You can only make me a table of food that gets cold."

Every word was sharp and bone-piercing.

Louise’s heart felt as if an invisible hand was crushing it, hurting until it went numb.

But strangely, she didn't cry.

Not a single tear.

It turned out that when a heart is dead to the extreme, no tears can flow.

She just felt that the self-righteous drama that had lasted three years, the gamble she had staked her youth and dignity on, was finally, in this moment, thoroughly lost.

Lost completely.

And lost in a way... that made her thoroughly awake.

She slowly stood up from the sofa.

She looked straight at the man she had once deeply loved.

"Thank you."

She spoke, her voice unusually calm.

"Thank you for telling me the truth."

"And thank you for letting me see just how laughable my last three years have been."

Adam was stunned by her "thank you."

He had anticipated she would break down, scream, cry, and hysterically ask him why.

The only thing he hadn't expected was this reaction.

Calm. As if she were talking about something that had nothing to do with her.

Louise didn't look at him again.

She bent down and picked up the suitcase at her feet.

The wheels of the suitcase rolled across the smooth floor, making a soft rumbling sound.

"Sign the agreement. I will be there on time tomorrow."

Having said that, she walked toward the entryway without looking back.

"Where are you going?"

Adam asked subconsciously, a trace of panic he hadn't even realized himself in his tone.

This woman washed his clothes and cooked his meals, cleaned up his filth, and cared for him meticulously. She was like a piece of furniture that had been used for a long time; he never felt it was precious, but once it was to be moved away, the room instantly felt empty.

Louise’s hand was already gripping the cold doorknob.

She paused, but did not turn back.

"To a place without you."

"Bang!"

The door closed.

This time, it was even more decisive than when she had rushed out earlier.

The whole world instantly went quiet.

Adam stood in the empty living room, looking at the table of completely cold food, the scent of unfamiliar perfume still lingering in his nose.

He suddenly felt that this home he had lived in for three years had, in this moment, become incredibly unfamiliar.