I looked at her calmly. “No. I’ve never been clearer.”
“You’re divorcing me over a game?” she snapped. Her voice rose, and the papers shook in her hands. “Do you have any idea how childish and ridiculous this is?”
Instead of arguing with her, I simply handed her a pen and said, “Just sign it.”
But then, she gripped my arm, her nails digging into my skin. “Louie, it really was just a game. That’s how we’ve always played since we were kids!”
I paused, locking eyes with her. “Tracy, you’re my wife. At least for now. Because marriage comes with boundaries.”
I then pulled my arm free and headed to the bathroom.
When I came out, she had changed into a black lace lingerie set and was half-reclining on the bed, the soft light casting shadows over her curves. Her eyes were also filled with calculated charm.
If this were before, I might have lost control, pulled her into my arms, and surrendered to the moment.
But now? I felt nothing but disgust.
“Honey…” she purred, patting the empty spot beside her with a soft, sultry smile.
I toweled off my hair, walked to the closet, pulled out a clean set of pajamas, and put them on.
“Don’t bother. Get some rest. I’ll be sleeping in the study tonight.”
After hearing what I'd said, her smile faltered. Panic then flickered across her face, then turned to anger.
“What do you even want from me?” she snapped. “I already apologized. What else do you want me to do?”
“You don’t need to do anything,” I said without looking back. “The only thing left between us is divorce.”
She sat up straight, chest rising and falling with fury. “Don’t push it, Louie! I’ve already humbled myself to please you. What, do you want me to get down on my knees and beg?”
I stopped walking and turned to face her, my eyes cold. “You really think this is about you trying to please me? Tracy, you still don’t get it.”
“Get what?” she scoffed. “It was just a stupid game! You’re blowing this way out of proportion!”
“Am I really blowing it out of proportion?”
I then pulled out my phone and swiped through the photos one by one, showing them to her.
It was a photo from two weeks ago when Harry had just landed back in the country. There, she and Harry were at the airport café, her head resting on his shoulder, smiling like she belonged there.
Aside from the picture, I also showed her the call log from last weekend, which was over two hours long, in the middle of the night.