Mr. Smith said that on purpose, but Jayson had no intention of going out to buy anything himself. He dismissively tossed the bread back to him, then went to the kitchen to grab a plate and put his dinner on it, completely ignoring Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith scratched his nose and left. It seemed like it would take a long time for this couple to reconcile.
The truth was, Jayson hadn't been avoiding Sidney. But after seeing how much happier she seemed, he decided not to disrupt her peaceful life. He had noticed she was getting close to someone named Frank. Even though the divorce papers were still in his hands, he hadn't brought them up yet. At one point, he thought she might want to come back to him, but after seeing her with Frank, he started wondering if maybe Frank was a better match for her. They seemed to have more in common, with shared interests and similar life goals. This thought had been weighing on his mind, and before long, he found himself asking the same question again. Today, he wondered if it was finally time to let her go. He thought about the divorce papers tucked away in his office drawer and planned to call the lawyer the next day. There were a few things he wanted to give her—things that would help her find happiness in her next relationship, and, hopefully, avoid being mistreated.
He picked up his phone and dialed. The number went to voicemail, and he patiently listened to the monotone female voice before leaving a message.
"It's me. I know you don't want to hear my voice, but I'm calling anyway. Come back when you have time, and let's take care of the divorce."
His voice was cold, devoid of emotion, and his words came slowly, carefully measured. He hung up the phone, raising his left hand to glance at the platinum ring on his fourth finger. When he had custom-ordered it, he never imagined he would wear it so faithfully for so long. After more than a year, the once flawless ring had tiny scratches on it. He let out a bitter laugh. Of course, even platinum could get scratched. What had they said about love being stronger than gold? No relationship was invincible, untouchable—none could survive without some form of damage. Even if two people grew old together, who could truly guarantee that they'd still love each other as deeply when they reached that point?
He had always been skeptical about love, and now he believed it even less. But what was this sour feeling in his heart?
Why couldn't he let go?
He thought of Sidney's face. She was beautiful, and compared to him, her personality could definitely be described as good. But someone like her was easy to find—he could grab a whole bunch of women like her. Why had he hesitated for so long?
He tore off his ring and casually threw it into the trash can. He didn't even eat dinner, just lay on the bed in his clothes, regretting that he had bought a king-sized bed. Why was it so wide?
On his left, there was still a pillow, but it lay there empty, untouched.
He sniffed the scent on the pillow. It was her scent, but also his.
He didn't know that after Sidney contacted Alondra, she never turned on this phone again. The voicemail just quietly sat in the inbox, with no response.
Half a month later, he knew Sidney must not have heard the message, or else she would have been eager to contact him.
One day, he sent a lawyer to the bakery where Sidney worked. When the lawyer arrived and asked for Sidney, the staff thought she had gotten into some trouble. Sidney awkwardly led the lawyer to a nearby coffee shop, where he finally took out the documents from his briefcase for her to look over.
"Mr. Nixon agrees to the divorce, and he instructed me to give you some things. Please take a look."
Sidney picked up the document and saw Jayson's firm black signature on it.
He gave her a two-bedroom apartment in City C and a commercial space in a bustling district.
Sidney didn't know if he was doing this out of guilt, trying to offer a hush money, or providing alimony, but she didn't want any of it. She had her self-respect. She was the one who had suggested the divorce, and she didn't want his things.
"I don't need any of this. I just want a divorce," Sidney handed the documents back to him.
"I don't have the authority to make decisions on this. If you have other ideas, please discuss them directly with Mr. Nixon."
"Can't you go back and talk to him?" Sidney frowned.
"You know how hard it is to change Mr. Nixon's mind once he's made a decision. If I go, he definitely won't agree. If you really don't want these things, it would be better for you to talk to him in person."
"Alright. I'll talk to him again. You can keep these documents for now."
Sidney stood up, paid for her tea, and left. When she got back to the shop, her coworkers asked her about it, but she didn't say a word. After work, she pulled out her old phone. Jayson's name had long been erased from her contacts, but she still remembered his number by heart, just like his face. She didn't think about him often, but when she did, the memory was as vivid as ever—crystal clear and impossible to shake.
The phone rang for a while before it connected. There was silence on the other end, and if she hadn't heard his breathing, she would have thought the phone was broken.
"Your lawyer came to see me. I don't want the things you gave me. Please take them back."
There was a long silence, no reply. She thought he was angry again.
"You should just hang on to it. A divorced woman needs to have some assets to back herself up, makes it easier to stand your ground."
Sidney took a deep breath, swallowed, and then said, "You don't need to worry about my business."
"I'm just trying to help."
"I appreciate it."
"If you don't like it, you can sell it."
"I won't take your things."
"Why?"
"I don't want your things."
"Then tell me why? If you can convince me, I'll accept it."
