Jason tried to coax me, and suddenly everyone seemed enlightened. Even his family showed disdain toward me.
“Oh, so that’s it!”
“You’re divorcing him just because you’re lonely at night?”
“What a reckless woman!”
“Exactly! It’s not like he doesn’t come home, just a bit later. What’s the big deal?”
“You’re making a fuss over a couple of hours?”
“What, coming home at 1 or 2 a.m. still isn’t good enough for you? Still not satisfying?”
“What kind of shallow woman are you?”
The neighbors whispered, giving me disdainful looks, as if I were a woman who couldn’t survive one night without a man.
Faced with their slander and misunderstanding, I couldn’t be bothered to explain.
I only had one word: Divorce. Nothing else.
“Enough talk. I’m getting a divorce. He insists on delivering food every single day!”
Suddenly Jason fell to his knees before me.
“Rachel, I’ll come home earlier, okay? Please, let’s not divorce!”
“I used to deliver food until 2 a.m. every night. From now on, I’ll come home by midnight to be with you, okay?”
The moment he said that, everyone thought it was reasonable.