Elliot finally opened his eyes.
But he still had that lazy, dismissive look, as if he was sure I was just causing a scene again.
He flipped through the divorce agreement casually, but his expression slowly froze.
I leaned over to glance at it, worried that he wouldn't understand.
"We have 17 houses in total, including the ones in Australia and America. I had them valued, eight for me, nine for you.
"As for the company, I own 22% of the shares. You can buy them first at market price.
"The rest aren't worth much. We each take what's ours. Is that okay? If not, I'll have our lawyers work on it."
Elliot straightened up slowly.
The laziness vanished from him instantly, and he regained his imposing presence.
"Nicole."
He looked up at me, his narrow eyes flashing a cold light behind his rimmed glasses.
Elliot's eye color is pale, especially under the light, giving him a detached, almost inorganic look when he stares at someone.
"Are you serious?"
Of course, I was serious.
I had mentioned divorce before, but that was years ago. Back then, to make Elliot change his mind, I cried, made a scene, and threatened to hang myself. I tried everything.
But this time, I really wanted a divorce.
"Nicole, what do you want this time?"
Elliot tossed the agreement onto the coffee table irritably:
"Lauryn won't affect your position. Why can't you accept her?!"
He assumed I was upset because of Lauryn.
Indeed, when I first found out about Lauryn, I did cause quite a few scenes.
The worst thing I did was to smash everything in the house, sit in the rubble with my hair disheveled like a madwoman, and threaten to cut my wrists with broken china and force him and Lauryn to break up.
It didn't work. He continued to be with her.
I shook my head.
I used to be so love-struck, willing to be as lowly as possible. Thinking about it now, I'd almost wish I could go back and strangle that pathetic version of myself.
"This time it's not." I looked up at Elliot and smiled awkwardly.
"It's that kid outside who insists on marrying me, relentless.
"I can't do anything about him."
It was rare to see such a blank expression on Elliot's face.
After a moment, his expression darkened.
"Nicole, I've already said it. Lauryn won't affect you.
"There's no need to be so stubborn, is there?"
He still didn't believe me.
I nearly laughed bitterly.
"Look, you can have more of the assets, and how about you get the villa in Australia?
"I'm being pressured, so consider it compensation for your emotional distress."
Elliot stared at me for a moment, as if confirming that I was truly serious this time.
He narrowed his eyes, his expression becoming inscrutable.
"Is it that little boy who sent you home last time?"
I nodded.
Neil Shyann had dropped me off at the doorstep once before, which Elliot had seen.
Neil had greeted him with a smile, calling him "bro."
Elliot had been slightly embarrassed at the time but hadn't said anything.
After all, it was him who had proposed that we live separate lives, and he had been practicing it all these years. He really had no grounds to criticize.
Thinking of Neil, a smile couldn't help spreading across my face.
Today, at the beach, he pulled out a ring.
The diamond on the ring must have been at least one carat.
But compared to my other jewelry, it was rather unremarkable.
I thought it was fake and didn't pay much attention.
But he knelt down in front of me seriously:
"The ring is a bit small, don't be disappointed. It's money I earned working part-time. I wanted to save more, but I just couldn't wait anymore.
"Nicole, divorce him."
People usually propose by saying, "Marry me."
But he just came out with, "Divorce your husband."
I was laughing and crying, about to brush it off, but Neil held onto me tightly.
The sea breeze was cool and damp, and his black hair clung to his pale forehead. His eyes were bright with pure intensity, reflecting all of me.
A teenager's love burns like a fire, regardless of the setting, with the courage to consume everything.
In that instant, I was suddenly infected by his courage.
A voice suddenly appeared in my heart.
It was my own voice.
I am 29 years old, and I've been tangled up with him for nine years.
How many more nines do I have in my life?
Am I going to spend the next several decades like this?
The wind howled past, and the waves crashed against the rocks by the shore, splashing up white foam.
After a long while, I heard my own voice.
"Yes."
