I didn’t reply to the secretary’s message.
At home, I ate well, rested well, and cared for myself.
Soon, the final day of my postpartum confinement arrived.
During dinner, my mother-in-law, true to her word, placed a divorce agreement signed by Sean in front of me. Her voice wavered with reluctance.
"Tomorrow is your baby’s one-month celebration. Could you stay and attend it before leaving?"
I shook my head firmly. "No, I’ve already booked a ticket for tomorrow morning."
"What about—"
"Mom, I'll leave this family to you from now on."
I cut her off gently, smiling softly.
She recognized my resolve, wiping away tears. "Alright, I’ll raise your baby well. Don’t worry."
I took the divorce agreement from her just as Sean descended the stairs.
He frowned at the sight. "What are you holding?"
Gripping the agreement tightly, I shook my head. "Nothing."
His eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering in his gaze as he stared at me intently.
But I remained composed.
Fortunately, he didn’t press the issue, shifting the topic to tomorrow's baby's celebration.
"I have something to handle tomorrow," Sean said indifferently. "I'll be late to the hotel. If there's an issue, just ask Mom."