Yohan deemed the divorce as a punishment for the way I had forgotten all about them so easily. He would forgive and remarry me once I came back crying and apologizing to him.
His frustration faded immediately as he picked up the coffee on the desk and took a sip.
Joshua was sweating profusely. He took out a tissue to wipe the beads of sweat off his forehead.
He wasn’t so sure that I was only throwing a tantrum when I had even signed the divorce agreement and split our assets.
…
I thought I’d feel sad as I was about to leave the house—it was where I had stayed for the past six years after all. But instead, I felt a surprising sense of relief, as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
I was not someone’s wife and mother anymore. I no longer needed to please anyone or worry about people not liking me.
While Yohan and Julian were both out, I called three trucks and spent a small fortune hiring three moving companies.
I had all my luxury goods packed—bags, clothes, jewelries, skincare products—and took them with me.
I also grabbed my baking supplies, an entire cabinet of carefully chosen designer cutleries, several pieces of furniture I was used to, and all the decorations I had bought.
I even packed away the expensive gifts I bought for Yohan and Julian. They have never liked the gifts and they’d been stored away in the back of the closet—they wouldn’t even realize the gifts were gone.
If that was the case, they were better off being sold second-hand, so they can still serve their final purpose. After all, we were divorced, they might feel off-putting if they were to see these things again.
There was a lot to pack, but luckily I hired three moving companies with enough manpower. Everything was packed and loaded in less than two hours.
The house felt empty all of a sudden. Yohan would probably find the house much cleaner and tidier when he came back later. He never liked having too many things around, and now they were all gone.
I thoughtfully left plenty of space for his future wife who would be moving in soon.
