Chapter 9
He stood frozen for two full minutes, turning it over repeatedly, still finding it absurd.
A divorce certificate?
Without his consent, how could such a thing exist?!
Furious, Aaron hurled it aside, grabbed his phone to call Ashley, only to hear the familiar “switched off” tone.
A surge of rage flooded his chest.
Ashley actually dared to joke about this with him!
About their marriage.
He found Ashley’s other social media accounts, stunned to find all platforms completely deactivated.
He’d actually… lost all ways to contact her.
Aaron felt dizzy, a vague sense of foreboding washing over him-this divorce certificate might be real.
Ashley wasn’t an emotional person.
During their five-year marriage, even when they disagreed, she always presented facts and reasoned logically.
Otherwise, she couldn’t have built a company so young and expanded it so rapidly.
Panic washed over him.
Gritting his teeth, he opened the app to check his marital status.
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The result read: Unmarried.
His phone clattered to the floor.
“Bro, what’s wrong?”
Nicole rushed in at the noise, finding him pale-faced and rigid as a violin string stretched to its limit.
“Bro?”
Aaron forced the words through gritted teeth: “Ashley… divorced me. She wasn’t just throwing a fit. She’s really gone. Took Rui Rui with her.”
He suddenly remembered the documents Ashley made him sign when Rui Rui was discharged from the hospital.
Her expression had been colder than ever that day, yet he’d brushed it off…
He’d signed the divorce papers with his own hand.
Nicole picked up his phone and that red divorce certificate, flooded with silent delight.
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“How could my sister-in-law be so unreasonable? You treat her so well. Just because she almost killed me and you got strict with her once, she goes this far? What does she even take you for?”
Aaron took two steps back and plopped down on the bed.
His eyes swept over the room-every detail personally designed by Ashley, even the floor tiles chosen under her watchful eye.
She’d abandoned this home without a second thought.
Just as Nicole said, what did she take him for? Making such a huge decision without a single word!
Aaron’s face darkened as he swept the lamp Ashley found at the antique market crashing to the floor.
Nicole sat beside him, gently holding his hand.
Nicole gently tugged Aaron’s sleeve: “Bro, I don’t think your wife actually wants a divorce. With your status, women would kill to marry you. Many couples divorce and remarry nowadays-she’s just venting to make you panic. If you ask for reconciliation, she’d definitely agree.”
Seeing Aaron’s expression darken, she continued softly: “Buy her expensive gifts she likes, go apologize properly. That’s all she wants by pulling this stunt.”
Aaron replied coldly: “I’ve no time for divorce games. She can play by herself.” He meant it.
For a whole month, he went about his daily routine without mentioning this woman to anyone.
Over all these years, whenever they argued, Ashley was always the first to lose composure and apologize.
But this time, he was the one who cracked first.
Late at night, Aaron dialed that number again.
The same automated “powered off” message greeted him.
He slammed his phone in frustration.
“Hey, you okay?”
Nicole approached with two glasses of whiskey, handing him one. “Want some company?”
Aaron downed his drink in one gulp. The ice-cold liquor chilled his throat but couldn’t douse the fire inside him.
Nicole immediately refilled his glass.
One glass after another, Aaron’s consciousness blurred, his vision filled with Ashley’s icy expression on the signing day.
“Ashley…”
He reached out to touch that face, his hand softly caught by the other.
Nicole leaned down, attempting to kiss him, but Aaron lay unconscious, eyes tightly shut.
She jealously scrubbed his hand-the one that had touched her face while calling Ashley’s name-with a wet wipe, cleaning between his fingers.
After wiping it clean, she pressed her cheek against his palm.
Then she removed her clothes piece by piece, undressed Aaron, and lay down satisfied, holding him close.
Darling, you’re mine now.
