She was suddenly at a loss for words. After being stunned for several seconds, she finally said impatiently, "I have already explained to you what happened at the concert last night. What else do you want? Do you want me to beg for your forgiveness?"
"Let's get a divorce," I replied firmly.
Clara said nothing, picked up her bag, slammed the door, and left.
She probably thought I would calm down on my own and engage in self-persuasion.
I sent a resignation text message to the person in charge.
The thought of not only having to cater to Clara but also watching her show off her affection with Jackson at the company made me feel sick.
I just wanted to stay away.
Later, the person in charge agreed.
I sighed deeply, lost my appetite for breakfast, took a painkiller, and hurriedly went to the office to pack up my things.
But as soon as I entered the office, I ran into Jackson.
"Javier, you're here just in time. Help me carry my bag," Jackson said with a smile.
He was nothing like the gentleman he appeared to be and always used work-related matters to undermine me and boss me around.
Once, he deliberately made me send incorrect information to another artist. As a result, I was rebuked.
Meanwhile, he managed to distance himself entirely from the situation.
I complained to Clara, but she didn't believe me at all and kept saying that Jackson was not that kind of bad guy.
"I'm not free," I refused coldly.
"Hey, don't be so petty. What happened last night was just an act, so don't take it to heart."
Jackson narrowed his eyes slightly, leaned close to my ear, and whispered, "I won't tell anyone that your wife's lips are very soft and sweet."
My face couldn't help but darken.
Perhaps it was the overwhelming frustration and pent-up anger, but my head started to ache again.
But Jackson seemed to ignore it, still holding out the bag in front of me.
"Get lost!"
I raised my hand and knocked the bag away.
Just at this moment, Clara walked out of the elevator and saw this scene.
Jackson hurriedly played the victim and complained to her, "Clara, look at him!
I just asked him to help me carry my bag, and he told me to get lost..."
It was the same old trick again.
I was fed up and no longer hoped that she would say anything to help me.