Holden Corfield’s tablet was broken. I tried our wedding date three times, and each time it flashed an error. I had no choice but to call him. “Holden, take your tablet in for repairs tomorrow.” A mischievous, sweet voice answered from the other end. “Mrs. Corfield? Oh, I’m so sorry! I was playing games in Mr. Corfield’s office yesterday.” “I accidentally changed the password to my birthday.” I stood in silence for two seconds, then hung up. When Holden returned home that evening, I tossed a divorce agreement onto the table in front of him. He pressed his fingers to his temples, clearly exasperated. “Why are you quarreling with a young girl? She’s immature, but are you going to be immature too?” I let out a cold laugh. “Then you can live with the ‘mature’ one.” … Holden bent down, picking up the divorce agreement from the floor. Without even a glance, he tore it to shreds and tossed the pieces into the waste bin. His gaze, when it finally landed on me, remained utterly cold. “Ivy, you’re becoming increasingly unreasonable.” There wasn’t a hint of a smile in my eyes. “Holden, I don’t want to discuss this with you any further. Our marriage was always an arrangement, without a foundation of love. Going our separate ways amicably is the only path forward.” As I spoke, my heart felt as though it were being pricked by countless invisible needles, a dense, throbbing ache. Holden and I were indeed an arranged match, but over five years, I had fallen for him without realizing it. But what did love matter now? This wasn’t a one-time offense; it was a pattern. If I pretended nothing happened this time, what about next time? And the time after that? Was I to live a lifetime of constant compromise and hurt? Rosie White’s words today were an undeniable provocation. Everyone in Newhaven knew that Holden disliked women getting too close to him, or anyone touching his personal belongings. When Holden was twenty, the housekeeper’s daughter, refusing to believe the rumors, pulled off his tie while he was dead drunk after a business dinner, hoping to seduce him and secure her place by getting pregnant. The result was two broken hands and banishment from the Corfield estate, never to be seen again. Not only that, Holden had severe germophobia and a strong sense of personal boundaries. For years, I had been the sole exception. Only I could freely touch his personal items: his tablet, his phone, his laptop. Even if I wanted to look through his chat history, he would only sigh, a fond, helpless expression on his face, and gently ruffle my hair. He’d softly tell me not to stay up too late, to get some rest. But today, that privilege no longer belonged to me. I had received a dangerous signal, and I knew I had to cut ties before I became even more deeply entrenched. A suffocating silence spread through the living room. Holden and I faced each other in a silent standoff. He knew my temper. I couldn’t tolerate deception. On our wedding night, I had told him clearly: if he ever found someone he truly loved, I would step aside and never cling on. At the time, he had held me tightly, with a force so great it felt as if he wanted to meld me into his very being. He said we were so compatible, like a match made in heaven. He claimed that even without love, we could grow old together. He didn’t mind touching me. And I felt the same. Rather than spending my life with some useless, philandering socialite, I preferred him as my husband. For five years, Holden and I were the envy of society, a perfect couple. All the joint ventures between the Corfield and Rivers families flourished, yielding impressive profits. Three months ago, on Holden’s birthday, I proposed having a child. Holden traced the tears on my face—a mix of pleasure and pain—his expression moved. “Ivy, are you truly sure?” I whimpered, lifting my weak, aching arm to wrap around Holden’s neck. Even now, I remember that moment clearly. A flicker of light danced in the dark, almond-shaped depths of Holden’s eyes. The second before I succumbed to exhaustion and sleep, something warm dripped onto my face. Then I was pulled into a wide, warm embrace. Holden’s voice was deep, gentle: “Ivy, thank you.” My memories fractured, and I forced myself to forget those beautiful moments. Swallowing the bitter surge in my heart, I gathered my resolve and reiterated, “Holden, I want a divorce.” Several long minutes passed, but Holden remained unresponsive. I couldn’t stand the silent treatment, so I turned and went upstairs to pack my things. Half an hour later, I was pulling my suitcase toward the door when Holden finally reacted, blocking my path with his arm. “Ivy Rivers, you want to divorce me over such a trivial matter?” It had been a long time since Holden had called me by my full name. I took a deep breath and met his gaze. “Yes.” Holden’s brows furrowed deeper, lost in thought. Perhaps remembering the child I carried, his tone softened slightly. “Ivy, I can explain what happened today.” Even though I had no intention of giving Holden another chance, I still wanted to hear what kind of absurd excuse he would offer. “The young lady’s proposal was approved by the board. She didn’t want a bonus; she just told me she hadn’t played games in a while and wanted to use my tablet for a few rounds. I agreed.” He paused, looking directly into my eyes. “The password has already been changed back, Ivy. This is a very small matter. I’ve already reprimanded her, and she’s deeply remorseful. She even said she wants to come over personally to apologize to you.” “Please, be the bigger person and don’t make things difficult for a young girl fresh out of college. I promise you, aside from necessary work, I will have no further contact with her.” I seized on the critical point. “Holden, are you already defending her? Do you see me as some malicious, jealous shrew? You think you two are innocent, and I’m just being unreasonable, clinging to a baseless accusation?” “Ivy, that’s not what I meant.” I laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. “Holden, no matter what you think, I am divorcing you. As for the child, I haven’t decided yet, but don’t worry, even if I have him, I won’t use him to threaten you.” My words were final. I pushed past Holden and walked out the villa’s front door. The staff stood frozen, not daring to intervene. I hailed a cab back to the Rivers’ family home. I expected my parents to support my decision once I explained the situation, but the opposite was true. My father chain-smoked several cigarettes. “Ivy, it’s not that your mother and I disagree with your divorce from Holden. It’s just that the Rivers Corporation still relies on Holden’s support. If you two divorce, Holden will inevitably withdraw his investment, and then our company will be on the brink of collapse.” My mother, wearing an expensive face mask, accused me of being ungrateful. “We’ve seen how well Holden treats you. He’s a good man worth spending your life with. Don’t be impulsive and hand him over to another woman.” “Even if, by some stretch, Holden did have feelings for another woman, you would have to endure it, wouldn’t you? In our circles, there’s not much true love. Being married to Holden is a blessing you earned over lifetimes.” Ultimately, it all came down to "interests." For years, my father’s poor management had brought the Rivers Corporation to the brink of bankruptcy multiple times, and each time, Holden had stepped in to help. I thought I would be upset, that I would yell and scream. But I didn’t. I looked at my parents calmly and asked, “So, what do you suggest I do?” My father extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray. “I’ve already texted Holden. He’ll be here soon. Go back and live a good life with him. Don’t keep running back to your family; people will gossip.” My mother chimed in, “Ivy, listen to your father. We wouldn’t hurt you. Also, your brother is interested in a plot of land owned by Corfield Corporation. Remember to mention it to Holden and ask him to make it convenient.” Yes. The reason I became a pawn in an arranged marriage was because I had a younger brother. Holden arrived quickly. His usually immaculate hair was slightly disheveled, a sign of his haste. He took my hand, despite my strong resistance, and offered my parents an apologetic smile. “Father, Mother, it’s my fault. I upset Ivy.” My father instructed the butler to prepare the finest tea for Holden. My mother busied herself in the kitchen, insisting Holden stay for dinner. And I became the superfluous one. No one considered my feelings. And so, I returned to Holden’s villa. Before we got into the car, my mother pulled me aside, mysteriously handing me a small pink bottle. She said it was something good to enhance marital relations. “If a man’s heart strays, it’s not just because another woman tempted him. Often, the wife needs to examine herself. You’re pregnant now, and Holden must have needs in that area.” “Listen to your mother. This potion will not only make Holden crave you, but it won’t harm the baby.” I didn’t take the bottle she held out. Instead, I looked at her with an entirely unfamiliar expression. She was my mother, blood of my blood. But only today did I truly see her for who she was. My mother, seeing me motionless, forced the potion into my hand. On the other side, my father obsequiously offered Holden a cigarette. Holden declined. “Father, secondhand smoke isn’t good for pregnant women.” My father chuckled awkwardly. “My apologies, I wasn’t thinking.” I felt an absurd sense of unreality. After that day, Holden arranged for a therapist for me. The therapist suggested my anxieties were due to hormonal changes during pregnancy. Holden was as considerate and attentive as ever, making me doubt if that night’s argument had just been a dream. But I wasn’t fooled by the sweet facade he deliberately created. His coldness, his impatience that night, had left indelible scars on my heart. Even if the wounds healed, the occasional faint pangs would always remind me of what had happened. I couldn’t pretend everything was normal; most of the time, I gave Holden the cold shoulder. As long as I didn’t bring up divorce, Holden never got angry. He thought I had become compliant, no longer demanding my due. Unbeknownst to him, I had already booked a plane ticket to leave the country. I would leave him in a week. Leave Newhaven. And never return. I wanted nothing to do with him, or my parents. I had an abortion scheduled for tomorrow. But Holden watched me closely. Even when he went to the office, he had bodyguards follow me. I didn’t know if he was worried about me, or the child I carried. The next morning, for the first time in ages, I made Holden breakfast. He looked genuinely surprised. After all these years of marriage, I had cooked only a handful of times, let alone woken up early to prepare a beautifully presented meal to his taste. After Holden finished eating, I told him I was going for a prenatal check-up. He pulled out his phone to call. “Today’s meeting will be postponed until the afternoon.” “No need to postpone. I can go by myself.” I offered him a rare smile, helping him tie his tie. “Holden, I’m not a child. I don’t need you, nor do I need bodyguards. Go to your meeting. I’ll call you if anything happens.” Holden looked down at his perfectly tied knot, then at me. After a moment of hesitation, he nodded. Before leaving, he repeatedly reminded me to be careful. And then he added, “Ivy, come back early after your check-up. Rosie spent half her salary buying you a gift, and she’s coming to the house after work to apologize.” I lay on the cold operating table, many memories flashing through my mind. Holden pressing his face to my belly, saying he wanted to hear what the baby was doing. Holden gently massaging my swollen legs during pregnancy, saying we would only have this one child because he didn’t want me to suffer again. Going further back. Holden carrying me on his back through the snow, promising me a lifetime of devotion to only me. At that time, I jokingly asked him, “Holden, we’ve been together for so long, do you like me even a little bit?” What did Holden say? He seemed to say yes, and no, at the same time. I thought and thought, and finally remembered his exact words. He had said, “Ivy, I don’t know if I’ve fallen in love with you, but I can say for certain that you are the one I want to spend my life with. The only one. Irreplaceable.” Oh. Now, there was a replacement. Rosie White.
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