I looked around the room. Not one person spoke up for me.
Every single one wanted me to kneel.
But why?
Because of Caroline's face? Because she thought she was a goddess walking among mortals? Because nothing I did was ever enough?
The questions burned through the fog in my mind. I rose slowly, my gaze locking onto Caroline.
"I agree to the divorce."
The room went dead silent.
"From this moment on, the bond between husband and wife is severed. You and I are strangers."
My voice wasn't loud, but it landed like a sledgehammer.
Caroline blinked, her mask of arrogance slipping. She hadn't expected me to agree so readily. She expected the dog to beg.
Before anyone could react, I grabbed the divorce agreement from the table, signed my name, and pressed my thumbprint onto the paper.
"Are you crazy?"
My in-laws leapt from the couch.
"Harrison!" my mother-in-law shrieked. "Are you even a man? Is it that hard to just apologize? She mentions divorce and you actually sign?"
"Tear that up right now!" my father-in-law roared, face turning purple. "Kneel and repent! List every mistake you've made until she forgives you!"
The hypocrisy was suffocating. Caroline demanded the divorce, yet they attacked me as if I were the villain.
The apple didn't fall far from the tree. Arrogance ran in this family's blood.
Caroline lunged forward and snatched the papers from my hand.
"Let's go. To the courthouse." Her voice was sharp. "If we're late, the clerks will be off work."
In such a rush to be rid of me.
A cold chill settled in my chest. My sincerity, my loyalty, five years of devotion—I'd fed it all to the dogs.
What was this marriage? Just a pile of wreckage.
I turned and followed Caroline toward the door.
A hand clamped down on my arm. My father-in-law yanked me back, eyes bulging with greed.
"Don't say I didn't warn you," he hissed. "You're in your thirties. Divorce my daughter, and you'll be worthless trash. Even stray dogs won't want you."
His grip tightened, voice dropping. "If you know what's good for you, get on your knees. I'll put in a word for you. And if that doesn't work—hand over your parents' pension fund. That might show Caroline you're sincere."
A glint of avarice flashed in his eyes. "Oh, and their old house? Transfer the deed to my daughter. Do that, and maybe she'll let you stay."
He'd hinted at this before.