He took a slow sip of his own drink before adding, "Besides, Chindy is right. It’s been three years, and still nothing. One drink won’t change anything."

I had no idea how he had the audacity to bring this up. Anger burned through me, but I bit my lip so hard I tasted iron. My nails dug into my thigh beneath the table, grounding me, keeping me from snapping. Just endure this one last time, I told myself. It would all be over soon.

I forced a smile and met Chindy’s gaze. "I don’t blame you. Even if this child is Ferry’s, I don’t blame you."

Then, without breaking eye contact, I lifted my glass and drained it in one gulp. Chindy's smile wavered, her face turning slightly stiff. The banquet finally came to an end. Ferry offered to escort Chindy home. I didn’t wait for him to return.

Back at the house, I grabbed my ID and hailed a taxi straight to the airport. I left nothing behind except a neatly folded divorce agreement on the table. As I sat in the taxi, I unlocked my phone and sent a single message to the family group chat.

[Chindy’s child is Ferry’s. I’m divorcing him.]