"It wasn't me! He wanted to eat it himself! I even tried calling you to ask if he could, but you didn't pick up!"
"Enough, shut up!"
Charles's gaze was ice-cold, devoid of warmth.
"I remember you've always loved fried sugar cakes. Natalie, you really aren't fit to be a mother."
The words cut through me like a blade, sharp and merciless. A death sentence. A condemnation.
Disappointment darkened his face as he pulled a folded document from his pocket, his fingers steady as he signed it with the hospital's pen.
"Isn't divorce what you've always wanted? Then let's do it first. I don't trust you to live with them while you're in this unstable state. Once you've adjusted, we'll talk about remarriage."
A strange sense of relief washed over me. The fight drained from my body. Without another word, I bent down, picked up the divorce agreement from the floor, folded it neatly, and tucked it away.
Before leaving, I cast one last look at Charles, my voice eerily calm.
"Charles, I stopped eating fried sugar cakes ten years ago. My teeth ache whenever I have something sweet. Did you forget?"
His lips parted slightly, his face clouded with disbelief. But not a single word left his mouth.
