Chapter 173
The moment I saw Henry holding Isabella that day, years of disappointment came flooding through me like a torrential downpour.
When I first married him, I did indeed view him as Sam’s replacement. But throughout our relationship, I had given him everything my whole heart, my complete devotion. I truly loved our family and gave Henry all the affection I had.
I thought my passionate heart could melt the ice in his. How terribly wrong I was. Despite all my compromises, he continued to test my limits repeatedly, even bringing his mistress to Billy’s birthday party to humiliate me.
When I said I didn’t recognize him, Henry’s eyes flashed dangerously. “What did you say?” he growled. “Say that again! My response clearly infuriated him.
If I weren’t a woman, he probably would have struck me already.
I took a deep breath and smiled faintly. “We are strangers, aren’t we? You should go be Miss Scott’s husband. Why bother entangling yourself with an ex–wife you despise?
My coldness made Henry anxious. To be honest, in our marriage, he was the beneficiary.
For over six years, I’d cared for him meticulously. My gentleness, my body–he enjoyed all of it, craved it even. Even if I left without a penny, he didn’t want this relationship to end. He’d grown accustomed to enjoying my kindness.
These days, with Billy and me gone from the house, that home felt like nothing but an enormous gilded cage to him–luxurious but devoid of warmth.
“Sophia, stop this nonsense,” he said, his voice softening slightly. “Come home with me. We can live like we used to. Isn’t that good enough?”
He paused, looking almost vulnerable. “If you’re upset because of Isabella, I can keep my distance from her.” This was the biggest concession he could offer.
Henry and Isabella had grown up together, and before marrying me, he had promised to marry Isabella.
This guilt over breaking his word pushed Henry to compensate Isabella time and again.
After hearing Henry’s words, I was speechless. Even now, he still believed I was just throwing a tantrum because of Isabella!
‘I’m simply following the agreement we signed when we got married, I said firmly, my expression cold and distant, no trace of my former attachment in my eyes. “The moment Miss Scott returned, we would end this marriage. That contract is still locked in your safe.”
Lately, I’d been questioning myself: How did I end up here? Was it just because Henry looked like Sam? Or because of that heart? Without these things, could I have persisted in this loveless marriage for so long? The answer was clear: No.
I’d foolishly believed that time would create love, that by offering my whole heart, Henry would eventually be moved and fall for me. Reality had slapped me hard across the face.
Henry’s eyes filled with hostility. He couldn’t understand my determination to end our marriage. Accustomed to having everything his way, Henry never considered others‘ feelings. Yet for me, he had actually compromised.
“Sophia, I told you! I can avoid being alone with Isabella!” His voice rose with frustration. “I owe her too much from all these years. She’s still sick–you can’t expect me to completely abandon her.” He took a deep breath before continuing, “As for that agreement you mentioned, I can tear it up. We can pretend none of this ever happened and go back to living well together. Wouldn’t that be better?”
I laughed out loud. “Mr. Harding, there’s no need for that. Let’s just get this divorce over with cleanly. Wouldn’t that make it more convenient for you to properly take care of Miss Scott? Mr. Harding, it’s just a signature–it won’t take much of your time. Once you sign, our relationship ends immediately. Doesn’t that sound appealing? Then you and Miss Scott can openly be together, no longer having to hide from your ex–wife.”
Henry had never yielded to anyone. Even during his worst heart attacks, he never bowed to fate.
This time, he’d made such a significant concession for me, yet I still wasn’t satisfied.
“My relationship with Isabella is none of your business. Just worry about yourself!” His voice carried traces of disgust by now, his volume rising considerably. ‘I do not agree to divorce!*
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Chapter 173
After hearing his answer, I dramatically rolled my eyes. “You won’t agree to divorce? Fine, let me ask differently: If you don’t want to divorce me, can you give up Isabella? Can you promise not to interfere with her life no matter what happens and come home to live properly with me?”
If Henry could truly do that–completely disconnect from Isabella’s affairs–perhaps this marriage didn’t have to end. My condition stunned him into silence. He stood frozen, unable to respond for a while.
In our marriage, he was accustomed to enjoying my care and devotion. Without my attention, he felt incredibly uncomfortable, not even knowing where his clothes were kept. After divorcing, he’d probably never find another woman who would care for him so wholeheartedly.
Yet if we stayed married while I continued my rebellion, that would equally drive him crazy.
Then there was Isabella, constantly tugging at his sleeve, asking incessantly: ‘Henry, when will you divorce Sophia? You promised to take care of me forever. Do you expect me to stay with you unofficially for life? You promised to marry me back then!”
My question struck at his conflicted heart. After a long, thoughtful silence, the man finally gave his answer: “Yes, I can.”
Being with Isabella meant he was always the one giving–caring for her, comforting her. At first, this dynamic seemed fine, but over time, receiving nothing in return made him increasingly resentful.
*I can promise not to interfere with Isabella’s affairs anymore and live properly with you.”
Having me return home was exactly the outcome he wanted.
I looked at him skeptically, surprised by his response.
That face so similar to Sam’s, and that heart–both things I had once wanted to protect forever.
But his answer seemed too hasty. If he could truly abandon Isabella and live properly with me, I could get what I wanted too, but could it really be that simple?
Just as Henry opened his mouth to speak, I stopped him. “Wait!”
“Don’t say anything yet. Let me analyze this for you. After I’m done, you can answer my question.”
I took a deep breath, paused, then continued: “When you were young, you met someone special. You liked her tremendously. Later, for various reasons, you had to give her up. You finally understood that you couldn’t be together. The heartbreaking part is—you couldn’t bear to separate, yet you couldn’t forget her either. So deep inside, you’re constantly torn. You want to cling to her yet also want to let go. You want to cut all ties, to exit her life, but you fear truly losing her. So you remain caught in this back–and–forth entanglement. During countless sleepless nights, you think of her, your tears soaking your pillow. The heartache, helplessness, reluctance, and pain fill your chest. Only those who have experienced it truly understand this silent agony.”
‘Henry, do you know what this is called?”
Everything I described was my own experience too.
The man stared at me blankly, unable to come up with an answer. He finally asked directly: “What do you call it?”
“Regret,” I said simply. “Henry, search your heart–can you really resist the power of regret?”
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