Chapter 3 How Foolish

Rhett's expression darkened, a shadow of irritation flickering across his face. "Enough with the drama. Apologize to Sylvia."

Hannah released his arm, her voice fragile. "Rhett, do you really doubt me?"

He ran a hand down his sleeve, hesitating before responding.

Sylvia moved closer, resting gently against him. "You've just recovered. Don't let this upset you. Maybe Hannah just doesn't understand the situation well."

Rhett's eyes softened as he glanced at Sylvia. "You're too forgiving, standing up for her like this."

Sylvia smiled softly, nestling into Rhett's embrace.

Rhett shot a cold glance at Hannah, his irritation flaring as he noticed the tear tracks on her cheeks. "I'll let this slide today, Hannah. But next time, don't bring me any more nonsense."

With that, he slipped his arm around Sylvia's waist and walked away.

Hannah stood frozen, her chest aching as if torn apart by invisible blades.

Three years ago, despite her family's protests, she had chosen to marry Ethan. Since then, Rhett had never shown her kindness.

She had hoped that giving him her kidney would mend what was broken between them. Instead, he chose to trust everyone else but her.

The promises he had once whispered lingered in her memory, but it was painfully clear that she had been the only one to hold them as truth.

How foolish she had been.

A dull ache stirred in her stomach, and at last Hannah could bear no more. With weary limbs and a hollow heart, she summoned a cab and let it carry her back to the silence of her apartment.

Later, sprawled across her bed, sleep evaded her. Thoughts tangled and collided, refusing to quiet, until the restlessness itself became unbearable.

With a frustrated groan, Hannah pushed herself upright, raking her fingers through her hair. The irritation still burned, but beneath it all her resolve sharpened. Nothing mattered more now than restoring her health and severing her marriage to Ethan.

With that resolve firm in her chest, Hannah opened her laptop and began searching through every detail of the divorce process. Step by step, she organized what needed to be done, carefully arranging each requirement in order.

In the end, all that remained was a visit to the courthouse. Once the papers were signed and the legalities complete, she and Ethan would be strangers, bound no longer by marriage but only by memory.

She drafted a brief message to Ethan and sent it without hesitation.

At last, with the arrangements set in motion, the tension that had gripped her began to ease. Her body surrendered to the exhaustion she had been fighting, and she drifted into sleep.

Meanwhile, Ethan had already returned to Bayview Villa.

Night had settled over the villa, the household staff already gone to rest. Only a few muted lights glimmered in the halls as Ethan pressed his fingers to his weary brow.

He entered the bedroom and, out of habit, called, "Hannah, draw me a bath."

The stillness that followed was unsettling.

He hesitated, then reached for the switch, flooding the room with light.

The spacious master suite was barren, her presence nowhere to be found. He lifted his phone, intent on dialing her number, only to have the screen flash with an incoming message.

"Ethan, see you at the courthouse tomorrow at 10 a.m. to finalize our divorce."

His brows knit faintly as he read the message.

So impatient already? Was this just another ploy to provoke a reaction? He had witnessed countless women in high society play these same games, and in his eyes, Hannah was no different.

Always scheming, always driven by profit.

They never truly wanted to sever ties; the threat of divorce was nothing more than a lever to bend him to their will.

The thought drew a faint, mocking curve to Ethan's lips.

He dismissed the message outright.

If Hannah was so eager to play this little game, then he would give her the space to simmer in her own defiance.

Yet, as his gaze lingered on the stark emptiness of the bedroom, an unwelcome irritation tightened in his chest. With a sharp motion, he flung the documents in his hand into the trash, then strode out of Bayview Villa without a backward glance.