Annabelle Linton regarded him with a cool gaze, not wanting to waste any more words.

Seeing her unyielding expression, Leona Grant finally picked up the pen.

The pen hovered, refusing to land. Just as its tip was about to touch the paper, his hand froze. Pursing his lips, he looked at her. "I’m going with you to file for the divorce tomorrow."

’Once we’re divorced, it’ll be hard to see her again.’

’At least this way, I can see her properly one last time.’

Annabelle Linton frowned, her patience wearing thin. "Let the lawyers handle these minor details."

"No." Leona Grant’s face was grim as he stared at her resolutely. "This isn’t a minor detail. It’s one of the most important things in a person’s life."

The corner of Annabelle Linton’s mouth twitched into a smirk.

’Since when had this marriage become so important and sacred in his eyes?’

She scoffed and said nonchalantly, "Fine. Can you sign it now?"

Leona Grant took a deep breath and picked up the pen again.

’A simple ballpoint pen felt as if it weighed a ton, searing his hand with its heat.’

Finally, under Annabelle Linton’s gaze—usually a blank mask, but now filled with rare anticipation—he slowly wrote down two words.

’He wished the pen would run out of ink. He wished he’d forgotten how to write his own name. More than anything, he wished he’d never woken up this morning.’

But everything went surprisingly smoothly. Not a single one of his wishes came true.

And just like that, stroke by stroke, the name "Leona Grant" was written.

He had signed his name right next to her elegant signature.

Annabelle Linton stared at their two names on the agreement. No moment in her life had ever felt more exhilarating.

A smile touched her lips. She snatched up the divorce agreement and immediately stood, as if afraid he might change his mind. Not wanting to stay a second longer, she headed for the door.

Leona Grant stared blankly at her brisk pace, a flicker of hurt in his eyes.

’He longed to hold her one more time, to say just one more thing to her, but he realized he no longer had the right.’

His feet felt rooted to the spot, unable to move an inch.

"Annabelle Linton..."

Leona Grant stared dazedly at her retreating figure, his deep eyes shimmering with anguish. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed down his bitterness.

His gaze fell upon the velvet box on the table, and he shut his eyes as a sharp pain pierced his heart.

Inside was a ring.

They hadn’t exchanged rings when they married; he had thrown the original one away.

’He had planned to propose to her again today, on her birthday, to make up for everything they’d missed. But instead, they were getting divorced...’

’I guess I won’t be able to give her this gift now...’

Leona Grant let out a soft, pained laugh, his lips twisting into a forced smile. "Happy birthday."

Annabelle Linton’s hand was on the doorknob. His words made her pause for a fraction of a second, but she didn’t turn around. A cold smile played on her lips. "Thanks. That’s the first time you’ve ever wished me a happy birthday. And I love the gift."

The "gift," of course, was the divorce agreement.

The light from the hallway illuminated her slender form, casting a long shadow.

SLAM.

In an instant, the door completely separated them.

With the sound of the door closing, Annabelle Linton was gone.

A wave of panic washed over Leona Grant—an agonizing, suffocating pain, as if his heart were being crushed to dust.

He ran after her.

Annabelle Linton was already inside the elevator. Without giving him so much as a glance, she pressed the button, her expression like ice as the doors slid shut.

The elevator descended, taking her away without granting him even a moment for one last look.

Overwhelmed by a surge of anguish, Leona Grant clutched his chest and coughed up a mouthful of blood.

He had actually coughed up blood.

The next second, his vision went black. His tall frame collapsed to the floor, and he fell completely unconscious.