Chapter 3: Disagreeing with Divorce

Under James's intimidating gaze, Mia slowly stood up and raised her head. She bit her lip lightly and repeated the words, her voice trembling despite her resolve:"James, let's get a divorce."

She had practiced this moment countless times, telling herself to be strong, not to break, not to cry.

But the instant the words slipped out, her eyes filled uncontrollably with tears.

She didn’t want to let go. She just couldn’t hold on anymore

The word divorce snapped something inside James.

Over such a small incident, she was threatening their marriage? Was she treating their vows like a child’s game?

James pressed his thin lips together tightly, his emotions surging intensely. He hadn't lost control like this in years.

He raised his eyes and met her red, watery, rabbit-like gaze.

His expression froze for a moment.

He pressed his thin lips together, suppressing his temper.When he spoke, his voice was still low, stern, and unmistakably domineering. "Mia, you just got pregnant. Your emotions are unstable. I can tolerate you throwing a little tantrum, but not something as serious as divorce. Don't let me hear it a second time."

Mia's eyes grew burned redder. What was that supposed to mean?

The woman he loved had returned… yet he expected Mia to stay here, quietly enduring humiliation?

"I..."

Mia was about to say she was serious when James's phone rang, interrupting her.

She looked up and, unsurprisingly, saw Amelia's name.

He would have to take the call now.

As Mia thought this, her heart felt like it was being cut by knives.

Sure enough, James glanced at the caller ID for a few seconds before returning his gaze to Mia. "Calm down. I need to go to the office now. The housekeeper will be here soon. Tell her what you want for lunch and she'll make it for you."

With that, he answered the call, grabbed his keys, and left the room without hesitation.

"James? Why aren't you saying anything?"

Inside the elevator, James exhaled sharply, avoiding her question. Still irritated, his voice came out cold. "What is it?"

"Can't I call you if there's nothing wrong?" Amelia’s tone softened, sounding fragile, almost wounded.

"That's not what I meant." James softened his tone a bit.

“I know. I was teasing. Don’t take it seriously,” Amelia murmured. “I just wanted to thank you.”

"You're welcome. We're friends. Helping you is what I should do." James's tone was flat, without a hint of romance.

Friends?

Amelia’s lips tightened, her expression souring for a heartbeat before smoothing out.

James stepped out of the elevator and walked toward his car parked downstairs. He opened the door and got in.

Amelia heard the sound. "Are you driving?"

"Yes, going to the office." James turned the steering wheel with one hand as the car left the residential complex, heading toward the company.

Suddenly, the sound of Amelia dry heaving came through the line.

James hit the brakes and asked anxiously, "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing. I didn't eat breakfast, and my stomach feels a bit uncomfortable."

“You know your stomach is sensitive. And you still skipped breakfast?” His tone stayed cool, but concern seeped through.

"It's not that I don't want to eat, I just have no appetite. I don't know why, but I really want some porridge, but it's too far away."

"James, the nurse is here to change my IV. I won't keep talking to you. You go ahead with your work. I'll hang up now."

Amelia ended the call. The caregiver came in and asked again, "Ms. Martinez, have you thought of anything you want to eat? Should I go buy a few different things nearby for you to try?"

"No need, I'm waiting for someone to bring it to me."

She was waiting for James.

She didn't believe what he said about only seeing her as a friend.

When he was young, he was abandoned, mistreated, forgotten by the whole world.

And she approached him during his darkest, most helpless time.

She was like a warm ray of light that shone into James's life.

She became irreplaceable in his heart.

So she believed he would definitely come.

After the call ended, James passed another traffic light, his brows tightening.

When he reached the office, he checked social media and saw Amelia’s latest post.

The photo showed her slender wrist, marked with fresh needle pricks.

Thinking of her haggard appearance, James fell silent for a moment, then went back downstairs and drove toward the place that sold porridge.

...

At the hospital, in the ward.

Amelia lay in bed curled up, stomach cramping relentlessly.

Her body was protesting against her for not eating for so long.

She was in extreme discomfort, and even the caregiver had urged her three or four times.

But she stubbornly held on.

Just waiting for the outcome of her bet.

When the door opened, Amelia didn’t need to look to know she had won.

Even though she had been gone for four years, she was still the most important person in his heart, irreplaceable.

Amelia leaned weakly against the hospital bed, looking at James standing at the door of the ward. Her gaze swept over the Chen's Restaurant takeout box he was carrying, and she smiled inwardly, but her eyes reddened. "James, why did you come? You're so busy with work, and you still went to buy me porridge. I really troubled you."

"Don't mention it."

James walked into the ward and placed the porridge on the coffee table. "Eat it while it's hot. I'm heading back to the office."

But before he could finish, Amelia let out a soft cry of pain. James turned sharply, she was curling forward, pressing her stomach.

He immediately rushed to Amelia's bedside, reached out to support her, and raised his hand to press the call button.

"What's wrong? Is your stomach bothering you again? I'll call the doctor for you."

"No need to call the doctor." Amelia whispered, leaning slightly toward him, hoping he would hold her.

But James avoided contact, guiding her gently back to the sofa.

A flash of gloom crossed Amelia's eyes, but her face still wore a gentle smile.

After a while, she felt a bit better and reached out with trembling hands to open the package.

When she tried to open the porridge box with trembling hands, she failed several times.

Seeing this, James said, "Let me."

Amelia withdrew her hands and watched James quickly open it.

When she saw the porridge without ginger strips, a smile appeared in her eyes. "James, you have such a good memory. You still remember I don't like ginger strips."

James was clearly stunned.

Mia never picked at her food, but the one thing she hated was ginger.

You could say she absolutely detested it.

Because of this, he remembered it clearly. When buying the porridge earlier, he had instinctively chosen no ginger strips.

But there was no need to explain such a small matter.

"You should eat some too."

Seeing that James didn't know how to respond to what she said, Amelia took the initiative to portion out some porridge for him.

But James refused. "I'm not hungry. You eat it yourself."

Amelia was a bit disappointed, but the fact that he came to bring her porridge had already proven her place in his heart.

She wouldn't fuss with James over these small matters.

She wondered if Mia knew that James was keeping her company right now.

After finishing dinner, Mia sat alone facing the night.

It was already past office hours, and James still hadn't come home.

Was he with Amelia?

She was such a fool, clearly betrayed, yet still holding onto hope for him.

She lowered her gaze and placed a trembling hand on her flat stomach. A fragile smile curved her lips. Baby… I’m sorry.

I didn’t want you to have a broken family. But I can’t survive this marriage anymore.

The next second, the only housekeeper keeping her company came out of the kitchen, still holding the phone, looking panicked. "Mrs. Smith, my daughter suddenly has a high fever, and her father can't get back."

Mia pushed aside her pain and gave a calm smile. “Go home. Take care of her.”

“But Mr. Smith said your arm isn’t healed, and you’re pregnant, so you can’t—”

"I'm a grown woman, I'll be fine. Listen to me, hurry back." Mia interrupted the housekeeper, not wanting to hear more.

She used to find these things sweet, but now that she knew the person he loved wasn't her, there was only heartache.

"Thank you, Mrs. Smith." The housekeeper was anxious at heart. She untied her apron, put on her coat, and hurried out.

After leaving the residential complex, she was still worried. After thinking about it, she dialed James's number.