“You’re threatening divorce over something so trivial? Childish.”
“This time I’ll let it slide, but if it happens again—even if you beg me on your knees—I won’t forgive you.”
Before I could reply, she hung up.
I looked at the freshly printed divorce papers, my chest tight with anger.
What Sophia didn’t know was that I truly intended to leave her.
We had been married for five years, yet always kept it a secret, never once living as husband and wife.
She claimed to have psychological issues—insisting on maintaining a “single” public persona—while feeding me the idea of a platonic marriage.
And I had pitied her, believing her every word, accommodating her in everything.
My phone buzzed with a message from Daniel Scott, my assistant. He had once been my student at Columbia University, and was one of the few who knew about my relationship with Sophia.
It was a screenshot of the law firm’s internal group chat.
Many colleagues had seen Jason’s vlog, teasing the two of them, asking when they could expect wedding invitations.
Jason replied:
“That’s up to Sophia. She’s right here beside me and says don’t worry, you’ll all be included.”