The Day I Stopped Needing My Husband Chapter 03

The next morning, Henry left for work as usual.

He kissed my forehead before heading out. “I’ve got a dinner meeting tonight. Don’t wait up for me.”

I didn’t ask if Willa would be there. It didn’t matter anymore.

At noon, I got a message from Willa.

[Kayla, we’re not kids anymore. Stop dragging up the past and making things difficult for Mr. Grant.]

I stared at the line for a long time.

She knew me too well. She knew I hated conflict, knew I’d back off the second I sensed discomfort.

That was how she’d tested my boundaries back in college.

First borrowing my class notes, then my research data, until she took the two years of work I’d poured into

my thesis.

Every time, she’d smile and ask, “You don’t mind, right?”

And every time, I couldn’t bring myself to say no.

This time, I deleted the message entirely.

That evening, Henry called. “You didn’t reply to Willa?”

“No.”

There was a pause on the line.

“She just wants to explain herself.”

“I don’t need her explanation.”

“Kayla,” His voice deepened. “She’s company counsel now. You two are bound to cross paths. You’re making

everything awkward for everyone.”

I suddenly remembered our first year dating. Henry brought me to a friend’s gathering, and someone made a

joke about me being aloof and stuck-up.

Before I could respond, he slammed his glass down on the table.

“If you can’t speak respectfully, shut your mouth.”

“Why should she have to smooth things over for people who make her uncomfortable?”

On the drive home that night, he’d told me, “Whoever hurts you gets cut out.”

Now he was telling me to be reasonable.

I spoke softly. “Henry, do you remember what I said yesterday?”

“I do,” he answered quickly. “But I can’t fire a top employee just because of something you said.”

He remembered.

What hurt more than forgetting was this: he remembered, and still decided my pain wasn’t worth it.

I let out a quiet laugh. “I understand.”

He must have heard the flatness in my tone, because his voice softened. “Don’t overthink this, baby.”

“My birthday’s in a few days. Willa reserved a restaurant for us. You two can sit down and talk it out, and we

can leave all this in the past.”

I didn’t agree, and I didn’t refuse.

After I hung up, I messaged my lawyer to draft divorce paperwork.

Henry hated clutter. He didn’t like extra things lying around, so our house had always felt empty.

Papers, jewelry, clothes. Packing took less time than I expected.

Everything that truly belonged to me fit inside two suitcases.

At ten that night, Brayden showed up at the door.

He spotted the luggage and his face dropped immediately. “Did Henry hurt you?”

“No.”

“Then why are you packing?”

1 set the printed agreement inside a file folder and said calmly, “I’m filing for divorce.”

Brayden froze for at least thirty seconds.

He looked like he wanted to yell, his lips shifting, but all he asked was, “Did you tell him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

I lifted my gaze to him. “I did tell him. He said he wouldn’t replace Willa.”

Brayden understood.

Once, he’d missed my graduation ceremony, and I’d never invited him anywhere again. Henry had turned down my only request, so I would not beg a second time either.

Brayden sank down onto the floor and dragged a hand roughly over his face. “Kayla, this stubborn streak of yours is going to drive people crazy.”

I didn’t say anything.

He stared at me, eyes glistening. “But you’re not wrong this time. C’mon. I’ll help you move.”

After midnight, Henry sent a photo.

He sat in a private dining room with other executives. Willa sat right beside him, leaning over to light his birthday candle.

He sent a voice note, loud noise in the background.

[“The team wanted to celebrate early.”]

[“Don’t slack on my real birthday, okay? I want your gift handed to me personally.”]

I glanced down at the divorce papers sitting on the table.

That was the gift I’d prepared for him-the last thing I’d ever give him as his wife.