Chapter 1

Congratulations! You have been accepted into the Interior Design program at Kensington University, London.

I could hardly believe that the dream I had kept buried for so long was finally coming true.

I wanted to celebrate. I wanted to scream to the world that I had made it. But when I thought about the first person I wanted to tell—Bobby, my husband of five years—my smile instantly faded.

Bobby wasn’t here. He wasn’t by my side to celebrate this moment. Instead, he was having fun with his friends at a luxury hotel downtown. I knew this because my coworker, Amelia, had shown me a social media post.

There was Bobby, his charming smile wide as ever, standing in the middle of his group of friends. But what shocked me the most was the presence of Grace, Bobby’s coworker, who had been coming up in our conversations a lot lately. In the photo, Grace was leaning intimately against Bobby, and in the next slide… there was a video of them passionately kissing.

I immediately turned my face away from Amelia’s phone screen. Deep down, I had known something was wrong for a while, but seeing the proof with my own eyes still felt like a dagger to my chest. Tears began streaming down my face uncontrollably.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside me. Bobby had always belittled me, treating my dreams as something too grand for someone like me—a waitress.

“You know, Irish, prestigious universities like that don’t take people like you,” he had once said, his condescending tone barely concealed.

But I did it. I proved him wrong. Yet strangely, this victory felt hollow when I realized that the person I always thought would support me was the one who doubted me the most.

That day, I decided Bobby didn’t need to know about my acceptance. He didn’t deserve to hear this good news, just as he didn’t deserve me. I was going to leave Bobby and all the bad memories that came with him. I would go to London and start a new life.

——

The restaurant was winding down as Uncle Jack, the owner of the place and the only family I had left, finished his work for the night. I handed him my acceptance letter, and his soft blue eyes immediately lit up.

“I knew you could do it, Irish!” he exclaimed, pulling me into a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

I smiled, even though my heart felt heavy thinking about the goodbye that was soon to come. Uncle Jack was the only person who had always believed in me, who had always supported me, even when the world seemed against me.

“Are you going to go with Bobby?” he asked gently.

My smile faded, and I shook my head. Uncle Jack let out a heavy sigh, his expression one of quiet understanding. He had probably known this would happen.

He handed me an envelope. “This is the address of the Mitchell family. They’ve been waiting to hear about this. Remember, they once offered to arrange a match between you and their eldest son. But you chose to marry Bobby instead. Even so, they’re still willing to take you in while you start your studies there.”

I bit my lower lip, a wave of discomfort and guilt washing over me. “I don’t want to burden them, Uncle. I can stay in a dorm and find a part-time job.”

Uncle Jack shook his head, his expression firm. “At least for now, stay with them. You’ll need support as you begin your life in a big city like London.”

“Harry, their eldest son, is a professor at your university. He’ll help you.”

I was silent. The name Mitchell took me back to my childhood. They were my late parents’ friends. I remembered meeting Harry, their eldest son, years ago when they visited our home. He was older than me, and back then, he was a troublemaker who always made me cry.

I suppressed a small smile as I recalled how annoying Harry had been. Now, I heard he was a professor at the university I would be attending. The irony was astounding, considering I had once sworn I never wanted to see him again.

“All right, Uncle,” I finally said. “I’ll stay with them for now. But as soon as I’m independent, I’ll move out.”

Uncle Jack smiled in satisfaction and patted my shoulder. “That’s the Irish I know.”

---

That night, Bobby showed up at the restaurant. He stood at the door, wearing the smile that used to warm my heart. But this time, his smile felt like thorns.

“Irish, let’s go home. I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, as if nothing was wrong.

But he wasn’t alone. Grace stood beside him, wearing a tight red dress that hugged her figure perfectly. She smiled at me—a victorious smile.

I stared at them, my heart pounding. I knew what they had done. I knew.

But I said nothing. I just gave a faint smile, nodded, and followed them to the car.

During the ride, I sat in the back seat. Bobby kept glancing at my somber expression.

“You didn’t get into the scholarship program, did you?” he guessed. He knew today was the announcement.

“Hmm…” I responded briefly.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make you some hot chocolate to cheer you up.”

“Hmm…” I repeated the same answer, giving him no reaction. Then I closed my eyes. I wasn’t really asleep. I was trying to suppress my anger.

But I heard something that made my blood boil.

“Is she asleep?” Grace asked, her voice low but teasing.

“Of course,” Bobby replied casually. “Irish always falls asleep quickly after a long day at work.”

Grace chuckled softly. “Then can I tease you now?”

Bobby laughed. “Be patient, darling. Wait until we get to your apartment.”

“I can’t wait…” Grace murmured, leaning closer to Bobby. From the corner of my barely open eyes, I saw her unbutton the top of his shirt, her hand stroking his chest flirtatiously.

I clenched my fists, trying hard to hold back my tears. They talked as if I wasn’t there, as if I were a lifeless doll.

When we arrived at my apartment, Bobby tried to act sweet. He made me hot chocolate, just as he had promised. But I didn’t care. I only stared at him coldly, saying nothing.

Suddenly, Bobby’s phone rang. It was a call from Grace. I could clearly see her name on the screen. Bobby pressed the speaker button, and Grace’s voice filled the room.

“Bobby, the AC in my apartment is broken. Can you come over now?”

Bobby glanced at me briefly before answering. “I have to ask Irish first. If she says yes, I’ll come. If not, you’ll have to find someone else.”

I gave him a bitter smile. “Why bother asking for my permission? You always do whatever you want, don’t you?”

“Oh, come on, Irish. Don’t take out your disappointment on others. I’m just helping Grace fix her AC, and then I’ll come right back. Go to sleep, and good night, darling…” he said, kissing my forehead before leaving.

I started at the door he had just closed, fighting back my tears. In a few days, I would be gone. And when that day came, I would never look back.

Chapter 2

Irish’s POV

That morning, the cold air stung my skin as I stepped out of the bedroom. But the chill in the air was nothing compared to the searing heat suddenly burning in my chest. Grace was standing in our living room, her smile bright as she adjusted Bobby’s tie—my husband’s tie.

Time seemed to stop. My eyes locked onto her skillful hands, her fingers brushing against Bobby’s chest with a tenderness that should have been reserved for me. Morning was far too early for a "friend" to drop by, especially for something so intimate.

“Oh, Irish, you’re awake!” Grace exclaimed with a sugary sweetness that made my stomach churn. Her smile was wide, as if nothing was amiss. “I just wanted to thank you for letting Bobby help me last night. If he hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t have been able to sleep well.”

I frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

Bobby, without hesitation, explained, “I brought Grace here last night. You were already asleep, so I didn’t get the chance to tell you.”

My heart dropped. There wasn’t a trace of guilt in his voice, just a flat explanation, as if I was supposed to accept his unilateral decision.

“I’m only here until the AC in my apartment is fixed,” Grace added. “Don’t worry, I won’t be a bother.”

“Consider this your home too,” Bobby replied with a smile that should have been mine. He even tucked a strand of Grace’s hair behind her ear with a tenderness that made me want to scream.

I couldn’t bear to listen any longer. I felt the anger bubbling inside me, but I swallowed it down. I walked into the kitchen, trying to escape the scene that was tearing my heart apart. My hands busied themselves with breakfast ingredients, but my mind spiraled. Their laughter echoed from the dining room, as if I didn’t exist.

I slammed a pan harder than I intended, the loud clang drawing Bobby’s attention. He came over, wrapping his arms around me from behind, attempting to soothe me. His touch, which used to bring me comfort, now felt cold and filled with pretense.

“Let me cook. You sit down, sweetheart,” he said gently, trying to take the spatula from my hand.

I let it go without a word and walked out of the kitchen, leaving him to finish what I had started. My absence only gave Grace more room to get closer to Bobby. I heard her voice offering to help, but Bobby firmly refused, telling her to sit with me instead.

Grace sat across from me, a small smile on her face. “Irish, if you don’t like me being here, I can leave now.”

I didn’t even have a chance to respond before Bobby interjected, “Grace, don’t misunderstand. Irish isn’t mad at you; she’s just upset because... her dreams haven’t come true yet.”

I glared at him, shocked by his words.

Meanwhile, Grace put on a somber expression, pretending she cared. But I could see the hidden satisfaction behind her act.

To ease the tension, Bobby offered, “I’ll come home early tonight and take you shopping. You can buy whatever you want.” Bobby always thought money could fix everything, but he was wrong. I didn’t need expensive gifts or shopping trips. What I needed was his attention and loyalty—two things he no longer seemed capable of giving.

He seemed to have forgotten how I had accepted him when he was just an ordinary employee, earning a modest salary and living simply. Back then, he gave me his whole heart. His time and effort were devoted entirely to me.

Now, with his high-ranking position at the company, he had started to neglect his loyalty and treat me like a pet—one that only needed to be fed and housed.

“But Bobby,” Grace chimed in, “don’t we have an appointment with Dr. Frans today? I need to get my liver checked.”

I saw Bobby flinch, clearly remembering the appointment. “You’re right. I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said to me. “Grace needs support. Her condition is quite serious.”

I swallowed hard, forcing down the pain stabbing my heart. “I understand,” I replied softly.

He smiled, relieved, and pulled out his phone to transfer money to my account. “Use this to treat yourself. Invite your friends, okay?”

I nodded without a word. As he stood and prepared to leave with Grace, I noticed how he no longer kissed my forehead before going—a small gesture that used to make me feel loved. Now, even that was gone.

After Bobby left, I called Uncle Jack, asking for permission not to come to the restaurant. “I have something to take care of,” I said briefly.

I went to the civil registry office with determined steps. When I arrived, I filled out the divorce application form. Each letter I wrote was a small step toward freedom.

The clerk at the counter looked at me sympathetically as I handed her the document. “Are you sure, ma’am?” she asked softly.

I nodded. “There’s nothing left to save.”

But my journey didn’t stop there. I continued to the immigration office to change my passport. The name on the form was no longer the old Irish. I chose a new name, a symbol of the new life I would build without Bobby.

“Two weeks from now, you will no longer be a citizen of this country, ma’am,” the clerk said as she handed me my new identity papers.

Chapter 3

Irish's POV

When I arrived home, the house was eerily silent. Bobby wasn’t back yet. My eyes were drawn to the guest room door, which was slightly ajar. My steps faltered for a moment before my legs involuntarily moved closer, as if a magnet was pulling me toward it. There, I was met with a reality I had never wanted to face.

The crumpled sheets on the bed immediately led my mind to a conclusion I refused to believe. As I stepped inside, a familiar scent filled the air—Bobby’s cologne mixed with another unmistakable smell. My body trembled violently. The image of them sharing the most intimate act in this room struck me like a blow, leaving me weak. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. My knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the cold floor. It felt like every joint in my body had lost its strength.

As my mind spiraled into chaos, my eyes caught sight of something unusual—a phone lying carelessly on the bed. Bobby never left his phone unattended. It was one of his most prized possessions. But now, it seemed as if it meant nothing. Could it be because he felt that everything important to him was already by his side?

With trembling hands, I picked up the phone. I typed in the passcode—my birthday, which for some reason, he still used. However, as I accessed it, my heart shattered all over again. Every memory of me had disappeared from his gallery. The photos were replaced with pictures of him and Grace.

Then, a notification popped up from his work group chat. A surge of curiosity pushed me to open it.

against Grace, obviously.]

And then Grace’s comments pierced deeper, as if she intended to drive the knife further into my heart.

[I’ve even spent the night at Bobby’s house. His wife didn’t mind at all.]

[Haha, what a foolish wife.]

Grace: [Bobby and I are like royalty, and his wife is our maid.]

[Hahaha, Grace, you’re insane! If she ever finds out, you’re doomed.]

Grace: [She won’t. She’s an orphan. She might sulk, but she’ll still stay with Bobby. And Bobby would never leave me. I’m certain of it.]

[Such a sad life...]

My chest felt tight reading those messages. They laughed at my misery. But the most painful thing was that Bobby didn’t defend me—not even once. They all assumed I would stay with Bobby despite all this betrayal.

Suddenly, my phone rang. Uncle Jack’s name appeared on the screen.

"Irish, you’ll still be here on the 25th, right? We’ve got a big catering order, and we need your help."

I hesitated for a moment. The date was too close, but I knew this might be my last job at the restaurant before leaving it for good.

"Alright, Uncle. I’ll do it," I finally replied.

For days, I didn’t go home. After finishing my shifts at the restaurant, I spent my time at the library, gathering materials for my studies in London. There was so much to prepare that I almost forgot about the house.

But one morning, Bobby unexpectedly showed up at the restaurant. His face was filled with anger.

"Have you forgotten that you’re married? You have responsibilities to take care of me!" he snapped.

I looked at him coldly. "Isn’t Grace there? I thought the two of you would be fine without me."

"Irish! Grace isn’t a maid. She’s recovering and can’t do household chores. She needs plenty of rest to prevent her liver from relapsing. You should understand that, instead of running away like this!"

"I’m busy, Bobby."

"Busy? You’re becoming disrespectful! Is this how you repay everything I’ve done for you?"

"Bobby, you’re not the only one with priorities. I have mine too. I won’t always cater to your demands, especially when they involve Grace!"

"Ah… so you’re jealous of her?"

I scoffed. "Not at all."

"Your attitude says otherwise."

"And what then? Will you leave her when the truth comes out?"

"Come on, Irish. We’re married. Grace is just a colleague—nothing more."

I smirked sarcastically. "Oh, really?"

"Fine. To ease your anger, I’ll take you to the party tomorrow. I’ll introduce you to my friends. You want to be recognized as my wife, don’t you?"

"I don’t have time."

Bobby growled in frustration. "Ck! I’ve tried. But if this is how you want to act, then do whatever you want!"

He stormed off, leaving me in a whirlwind of emotions.

The next day, fate seemed to mock me. It turned out the party I was catering for was the same party Bobby and Grace were attending. They stood side by side, wearing matching outfits, looking every bit like a couple.

"Miss, could you please pour some soup into my bowl?" a woman’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I grabbed the bowl and poured the soup. But with my shaky hands and unstable emotions, the soup spilled onto her hand.

"Oh my God! Can you even do your job? My hand is burning!" she yelled.

I quickly apologized, grabbing a tissue to wipe her hand while repeatedly saying sorry. The commotion caught everyone’s attention.

"Isn’t that Bobby’s wife?" someone murmured.

I lifted my head, and Bobby’s gaze locked onto mine. His face was hard, still harboring anger from yesterday. Grace, standing beside him, clung to his arm, flaunting her position in my presence.

"Bobby, is this what Irish meant when she said she was busy?" Grace taunted with a smug smile.

"Let her be. It’s her choice," Bobby replied coldly.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

Chapter 4

Irish's POV

"Don't be like that. Now that Irish is here, let's take a photo together," Grace said in her sweet yet manipulative tone. Her hand gripped my arm firmly, ignoring the clear resistance written all over my face. She dragged me toward the altar, ensuring that all eyes in the room focused on me.

The room buzzed with murmurs that pierced through me like daggers.

"Is Bobby's wife really just a caterer? Goodness, look at her—how embarrassing." "Grace is so much better—beautiful, elegant, a true woman of class. How could Bobby end up with someone like her?" "Maybe he married her out of pity. They’re clearly from different worlds."

Each word felt heavier than the last, but the smirk on Grace's face told me this was her intention all along. She wanted to humiliate me in front of everyone. The worst part? Bobby—my husband—stood there, doing nothing. He looked uncomfortable, as if being near me was a disgrace.

I couldn’t take it anymore. With steady steps, I returned to my spot behind the catering table. But Grace, her smirk never faltering, followed me.

"What do you want?" I asked, trying to sound professional, though my voice trembled with suppressed rage.

Grace's smile turned sweeter, yet her eyes were filled with malice. "Just a small favor. Would you mind delivering that cake to the altar?" She gestured toward the towering, intricately decorated cake being pushed in by one of my colleagues, who looked visibly nervous.

This was another trap, I knew it. But for the sake of professionalism and Paman Jack’s reputation, I stepped in for my colleague. Pushing the cake-laden trolley toward the altar, I moved through the crowd that didn’t hesitate to throw more hurtful remarks my way.

"Wow, she’s really professional. Still delivering the cake for her husband and his mistress!" "Shameful. If it were me, I’d have run out of here long ago."

I clenched my fists tightly, fighting the anger bubbling inside me. It took everything not to shove the trolley over. But I couldn’t let myself or Paman Jack’s name be tarnished.

After positioning the cake on the stand, the CEO of Bobby’s company took the stage. His voice boomed through the room as he congratulated Bobby and Grace for winning the biggest tender of the year. But then his next words shattered my already fragile world.

"This celebration also marks the engagement of Bobby and Grace!"

Cheers erupted, filling the room. Grace feigned shyness, while Bobby, ever the charmer, playfully tapped her nose. Grace giggled before throwing her arms around him.

"C’mon! Kiss! Kiss!" the crowd chanted.

Under their encouragement, Bobby and Grace shared a deep kiss right before my eyes.

I froze. The air seemed to leave my lungs. Everyone knew Bobby’s status—they knew I was his wife. Yet no one cared. For the first time, it hit me just how far apart Bobby and I really were. He thrived in this glittering world, while I was nothing more than a caterer in an apron. But it was me—me—who had stood by him through everything.

Paman Jack approached me, his comforting hand resting on my shoulder. "Do whatever you need to feel better, Irish. Don’t worry about me."

His words lit something in me. Gripping the cake knife like it was a weapon, I marched toward the altar. Every step silenced the crowd. The knife in my hand felt like a samurai’s blade, poised to cut through everything standing in my way.

When I reached the cake, I sliced it into rough pieces with deliberate intensity, not caring about ruining its pristine appearance. I picked up a large slice and smeared it across Bobby’s face.

"Congratulations on your engagement!" I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. Then, I turned to Grace and did the same, smearing another slice across her flawless makeup.

The room fell into a shocked silence. The sound of the knife clattering to the floor echoed sharply, breaking the stillness. Without another word, I turned and walked away, head held high. Behind me, my fellow caterers followed suit, leaving the party in solidarity.

Back at the restaurant, my friends enveloped me in a warm hug. Their comfort unraveled the tight knot of emotions inside me, and I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. My chest ached, as though my grief had seeped into my very bones.

But my anguish wasn’t over yet. Bobby stormed into the restaurant, his face twisted with fury. He grabbed my arm, dragging me outside.

"You ruined everything, Irish!" he yelled, his voice venomous. Without warning, he slapped me hard across the face.

I held my stinging cheek, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the hollow ache in my heart. With a bitter smile, I met his eyes. "What was I supposed to do, Bobby? Stay silent and still while watching my husband propose to another woman?"

"It was just a joke!" Bobby snapped defensively. "You didn’t see me give Grace a ring, did you? I did it to get ahead in my career! The CEO thinks Grace and I are a couple—that’s the only reason I played along!"

I let out a harsh, humorless laugh, staring at him with disgust. "And how does the CEO know about your ‘relationship’ with Grace, Bobby? He knows you’re married, doesn’t he? He knows your wife is still alive!"

Bobby’s silence was telling. He couldn’t answer. I stepped closer, locking eyes with him. "You sold my dignity, Bobby. You threw away everything we built together for your selfish ambitions."

I turned to leave, but Bobby grabbed my wrist, spinning me back around. "Irish, wait—"

Chapter 5

Irish's POV

"We're not done talking, Irish!" Bobby gripped my wrist tighter. The pressure hurt, but I pulled my hand free with all my strength.

"We're done, Bobby," I said coldly, staring straight into his eyes without hesitation. "You made your choice, and now I'm making mine. I won't let myself be used for your selfish ambitions any longer."

Bobby looked shocked, as if my words had slapped him across the face. But he quickly put on a pleading expression. "You're jealous, I know it," he said, trying to soften my heart. "I'll tell Grace to move out of our house immediately. Come home with me. I'm sorry for being insensitive to your feelings lately. But believe me, I love you. I don’t want anyone else but you."

I wanted to laugh at his words, but all that came out was a tired sigh. Believe him? No. I was just too exhausted to argue. That’s why I went along with his demands.

---

In the days that followed, I lived as though everything was fine. Bobby seemed relieved, convinced that I had returned to being his obedient wife. He had no idea that I was secretly packing my belongings little by little. I only took the essentials, ensuring that when I left, I wouldn’t leave much behind.

At the restaurant where I worked, my friends were the only ones who knew about my plan. They cried as we prepared for our impending farewell.

That night, we went to a bar to celebrate a small goodbye. We shared sweet memories with one another.

"Don’t forget about us when you succeed, Irish!" Maria exclaimed, hugging me tightly.

I gave her a small smile. "How could I forget you? You're such an important part of my life."

Before heading home, I excused myself to go to the restroom. But since I was unfamiliar with the place, I got lost in a long hallway with many rooms. As I tried to find my way back, I heard laughter coming from one of the rooms.

Slowly, I approached. My heart sank when I saw Bobby in the room with Grace and his friends. They were playing cards, laughing merrily.

"Look, Bobby, if you lose, you have to take the punishment!" one of his friends teased, followed by hearty laughter.

I pulled out my phone and called him, wanting to test his honesty.

"Sweetheart, where are you? When are you coming home?" I asked in a calm tone.

Bobby answered the call, his expression immediately stiffening. "Sorry, honey. I’m working late tonight. You should go to bed," he said flatly.

I could hear his friends playing along, pretending to talk about work as if they were really at the office.

"Alright. I’ll go to bed first," I replied, pretending to believe him.

After I hung up, their laughter erupted again.

"Why do you still keep a woman like her around, Bobby?" one of his friends sneered.

Bobby chuckled. "To take care of the house, cook, and clean, of course."

My body went weak instantly. My vision blurred as I held back tears. But I stayed there, watching as Grace clung to Bobby affectionately. She noticed my presence. Instead of feeling guilty, she ran her fingers along Bobby’s neck and kissed him passionately.

I couldn’t bear to watch anymore. With unsteady steps, I left the hallway. Each step felt heavy, as if my emotional burden weighed me down.

---

That night, Bobby didn’t come home. Instead, I received a text from Grace.

[He’s drunk and sound asleep in my bed. Get used to sharing Bobby with me from now on.]

The message was accompanied by a photo of Bobby lying on a bed.

[Or you could do the right thing and leave his life.]

I typed a brief reply. [Tell Bobby I left something in the room. If he comes home, tell him to check. It’s a gift from me.]

After that, I blocked her number. I grabbed the suitcase I had already packed in the corner of the room.

---

I visited my parents’ graves before heading to the airport. There, I apologized and asked for their blessings.

"Dad, Mom, I won’t be able to visit you often anymore. I have to leave. But I promise, wherever I go, I’ll keep praying for you and seeking your blessings."

I placed roses on their graves, then walked away with a heavy heart.

At the airport, Uncle Jack greeted me with a container of his homemade food. "You’ll miss this later," he said with a small smile.

"Of course, Uncle," I replied, holding back tears.

Uncle Jack had also reminded me to keep in touch, but for now, I planned to maintain a low profile. I didn’t want Bobby to harass him if he tried to find me.

As I walked toward the boarding gate, my phone buzzed again. A message from Bobby.

[Sweetheart, where are you? Please come back! I promise I won’t cheat again!]

I turned off my phone without reading the rest of his messages!