I cried myself to sleep that night.

Not those quiet, graceful tears you see in movies. No. I sobbed into my pillow until my chest hurt, until my voice was gone, until I could taste the bitterness of betrayal on my tongue. My head throbbed. My body felt empty. And my heart? Shattered.

What else do you expect from a woman who just caught her husband with her own sister?

We didn’t sleep in the same room. Of course not. That would’ve been torture. I curled up alone in the guest room, hugging myself like that could glue the pieces of me back together.

Morning came, but it didn’t feel like a new day. It just felt like... more pain.

I dragged myself out of bed, stretching stiff muscles that didn’t want to move. My feet hit the cold floor as I shuffled to the bathroom. I brushed my teeth without even looking in the mirror. I didn’t want to see myself—not today. Not like this.

The house was quiet.

Too quiet.

I walked to the kitchen, hoping—just maybe—I’d find him there. Maybe he’d say something. Maybe he’d even apologize.

But no.

He was gone.

No note. No message. Just... gone.

Did he sleep here at all last night? Or did he go straight from her arms to God-knows-where?

I let out a dry laugh as I opened the cupboard and pulled out a mug. “Coward,” I muttered under my breath.

I made myself coffee—strong and black. I didn’t care about sugar or milk. I needed something to pull me out of the mess in my head, something to warm the ache in my chest. I took slow sips, staring into nothing, my thoughts racing but stuck at the same place—Elvis and Fiona.

When the cup was empty, I rinsed it out and went back to the room. I didn’t cry again. I was done crying—for now.

I pulled open the wardrobe and picked out simple clothes. A black top. Jeans. Something that didn’t need ironing. My hands moved like they had a mission of their own, but my heart felt disconnected.

I needed to take back control.

I grabbed my bag, keys, and drove straight to my barrister's office.

The moment I stepped in, he looked up from his desk.

“Good morning, Melinda,” he said with a warm smile. “Please, have a seat.”

I nodded and sat down across from him.

“Hope all is well?” he asked.

I forced a small smile. “I want you to cancel everything.”

He blinked. “Cancel... everything? What do you mean?”

“I want you to remove Elvis’s name from the life insurance policy,” I said calmly. “He was the beneficiary. I don’t want him to be anymore.”

His brows furrowed. “Melinda, what’s going on? Why the sudden change?”

“I’ve changed my mind, that’s all. I don’t want him in the policy.”

“I mean… this is serious. Yesterday was your second wedding anniversary. Did something happen?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, gripping my bag tightly. “Just cancel it.”

He leaned back in his chair, clearly concerned. “Alright. We can do that. But you also mentioned cancelling ‘everything.’ What else?”

“I want to remove his name from the inheritance. The twenty million dollars I got from my grandmother. He doesn’t know about it yet, and I don’t want him to. He was once made a shareholder in it, but I want you to trash that too.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You made him a shareholder?”

“I did. But not anymore. I don’t want him having any part of it.”

The barrister nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll begin the paperwork.”

“And one more thing,” I added, my voice dropping slightly.

“Yes?”

“I want you to prepare divorce papers.”

He stared at me in silence for a moment.

“Divorce? Barely two years into the marriage?” he asked gently.

“I want to divorce Elvis,” I said firmly.

He sighed, folding his hands on the desk. “Melinda, you know everything you tell me is confidential. But you need to tell me your reason. I can’t file a strong petition without knowing the truth.”

I looked away, blinking rapidly. My throat felt tight, but I forced the words out.

“I caught him cheating yesterday. On our anniversary.”

The barrister’s face softened. “I’m really sorry to hear that.”

I swallowed hard. “I walked into his office and found him with a woman. My sister, Fiona.”

His mouth fell slightly open. “Your sister?”

“Yes. I don’t have photos or videos. Just what I saw with my own eyes. But I’m done. That’s enough for me.”

“That’s a strong enough reason,” he said carefully. “Adultery is a legal ground for divorce. We can work with that. I’ll need you to write a short statement—include the date, location, and exactly what you saw. It doesn’t have to be long. Just the truth.”

I nodded.

“I’ll also make sure to remove his name from the life insurance and revoke his shareholder rights to the inheritance. Since you haven’t transferred the funds yet, we’re in the clear.”

“Thank God,” I whispered.

He gave me a kind look. “You’ve made a big decision today. Are you okay?”

I nodded again. I wasn’t okay. But I would be.

After the meeting, I walked out of the office into the warm afternoon sun. The air felt lighter somehow. Like something had shifted inside me.

I didn’t cry this time.

Not because it didn’t hurt. It did.

But I had taken the first step toward freedom.

Toward choosing myself.