He Asked Me to Divorce Her 19 Times, I Asked Him to Wait Till I Die Chapter 04

He Asked Me to Divorce Her 19 Times, I Asked Him to Wait Till I Die Chapter 04

In the mouths of Gideon’s friends, I went from being “Mrs. Carmen” to “that woman,” while they treated Lesly as if she were Gideon’s real wife.

I found it so ridiculous I laughed out loud, even as Lesly ignored the others mocking me and stared stubbornly at Gideon.

Gideon played right along. “Aubrielle doesn’t deserve things like this. She’s from a small town—she could never deserve the best. Only you, Lesly. I give you my all, completely and only to you.”

I thought of the tiny diamond ring Gideon had bought me with half a year’s savings, still on my ring finger.

I remembered staring at that pink diamond on a billboard for a long time.

Gideon had held me tight and promised, pointing at the screen. “When my company is steady, I’ll get it for you right away. My wife deserves the best. My whole heart is only yours.”

It was me.

It was me who felt sorry for Gideon, who knew how hard he’d worked to get here.

It was me who refused to let him spend money on luxuries and expensive jewelry for me.

I thought love could conquer everything.

I thought love alone was enough.

It turned out it was all just what I thought.

Reality had taught me its first lesson, and it was cruel.

Lesly kept sending messages.

[Aubrielle. It doesn’t matter whether you sign those papers or not. It doesn’t matter if I ever get that certificate. None of it matters.]

Lesly hurried to show off, sending pictures of the mansion and luxury car Gideon bought her, rooms full of luxury goods and jewelry, even labeling the prices to mock me.

[Old hag. Serves you right for being so provincial. Let me show you how the world works. See? Everything you dare not dream of, I can have just by curling my finger.]

Right after Lesly’s texts, Gideon sent me a voice message.

“Aubrielle, if you just agree to the divorce, we can still be friends. If you ever run into trouble, I can still give you a hand. But you insist on pushing it this far.”

Gideon seemed to be touched by a flicker of old feelings and spoke to me with unusual patience, “What’s the point of all this? After everything I’ve done for you over the years, surely you know that by now.”

I listened to Gideon’s voice. I looked at the wedding dress I had already cut to shreds, the portrait he had painted of me, the love letters he had written me—all of it now trash, packed away in cardboard boxes.

I smiled and pressed the voice recording button, then asked him, “What have you done for me? I don’t understand.”

I watched as the movers carried everything out, “Mr. Carman, how about you explain it to me clearly?”

I ignored Gideon and Lesly, watching workers carry out the last box. A journal fell out.

The worker held it up. “Ms. Harvey, do you want to throw this away too?”

The journal was yellowed. On the cover was a polaroid of Gideon and me from seven years ago at a coffee shop, smiling sweetly.

Now it tasted bitter.

“Throw it away.”

I took one last look at the house, closed the door, got in the car, and called my lawyer.

“I’ve sent you all the evidence. Now, I want to file for preservation of marital joint assets and recover every single asset Gideon gave to Lesly during our marriage.”

The lawyer agreed at once and acted quickly.

I watched the scenery blur past outside the window and smiled.

You want to get married?

You want to flaunt your wealth?

Then I’ll just have to give you exactly what you asked for.