Three years of marriage—he had been gentle, considerate, and attentive.
But when it came to Lorraine, he had no limits.
The first time I met her, she had lured me into a restricted mining area, where I inhaled toxic gas and spent a week in the ICU.
I cried and begged Renald to hold her accountable, but he only held me and whispered, "Danica, Lorraine just made a mistake at work. She's not a bad person. As long as you're safe, that's what matters."
From then on, every injury, every betrayal—he brushed them all aside.
When the lawyer finally collected the signed papers, he exhaled in relief.
"Ms. Alba, once the divorce certificate is ready, I'll deliver it personally."
After he left, the room fell silent.
A few moments later, the door creaked open again.
Lorraine walked in, smiling sweetly, carrying a bouquet of white chrysanthemums.
My body went rigid. I instinctively backed away.
"What are you doing here?"
She dropped the flowers to the floor, her smile bright and sinister.
"What else? I came to send you off myself."
"The gas explosion didn't kill you, so I'll just have to finish the job."