My wife, who had always hated stuffed animals, suddenly bought a life-sized teddy bear and started taking it to bed with her every single night. I was cast aside, ignored. I finally reached my breaking point and announced I was filing for divorce at our son’s first birthday party. Everyone was stunned. My wife, Isabelle, hurled a glass of wine in my face. “You’re jealous of a teddy bear?” she screamed, her voice shaking with fury. “Have you lost your mind?” I wiped the wine from my face, my voice as cold as ice. “You’re the one who’s always talking about spending your life with that bear. I’m just making it official.” … “Noah Sutton!” “Our son just turned one, and you’re using an excuse this absurd to divorce me? You’re a complete and utter bastard.” Isabelle’s eyes were red-rimmed, her entire body trembling with rage. “Sign it,” I said, my voice flat. “I’ll see you at the courthouse tomorrow morning. Nine o’clock.” I had no patience for more arguments. I slapped the divorce papers onto the table and turned to leave. The entire room of guests fell into a stunned silence once more. No one could understand how we, the couple everyone envied, had suddenly imploded. A flash of panic crossed Isabelle’s face. Her parents’ expressions darkened, their brows furrowing in unison. They had clearly never expected me to be this resolute. Her assistant, Julian Croft, grabbed my arm, pulling me back. “Don’t all women like stuffed animals?” he pleaded. “Stop acting crazy, Noah. Just apologize to Isabelle.” “And don’t forget what she went through to give you your son,” he continued, his voice rising. “A difficult birth, and she refused the epidural, holding on until she passed out from the pain. She slept in a separate room with the baby because she didn’t want to disturb your rest. Why can’t you see how much she’s sacrificed for you?” The other guests quickly joined in, their voices a chorus of condemnation. “Julian’s right. Your life is perfect, what are you doing? Do you have any idea how many men would kill to have a wife like Isabelle?” “If you have a problem, you talk about it. You don’t take it out on your wife and throw the word ‘divorce’ around.” Isabelle took a deep, steadying breath, composing herself. She rushed forward and threw her arms around me. “Darling,” she began, her voice soft. “We’ve known each other for twelve years. We’ve loved each other, built a life together. I know you. You’re a gentle man; you never lose your temper.” “Is something wrong with the company? Are you worried about dragging me down, and that’s why you want a divorce? Just tell me. We can face it together.” Her unwavering defense of me only made me look worse. The guests murmured their approval of her, their glares at me intensifying. “Noah,” my father-in-law, Mr. Vance, finally spoke, his voice heavy. “I may be retired, but my name still carries some weight in this town. If you’re in trouble, just say the word.” “We’re family,” my mother-in-law added. “Don’t keep it bottled up.” They still trusted me, the son-in-law they had handpicked themselves. Ignoring the sea of judgmental eyes, I shoved Isabelle away from me. My voice was glacial. “It’s simple. I don’t love you anymore.” The room fell dead silent. “What? Say that again…” Isabelle stared at me, tears beginning to well in her eyes. “I said, I don’t love you anymore! Did you hear me clearly this time?” With that, I tried to walk past her and leave. “Stop right there!” The next second, Julian was in my face, grabbing me by the collar. “What the hell is wrong with you? Even I can’t stand by and watch this anymore!” he roared. “Have you forgotten how much you loved her? You pursued her for three years! It took another six before you finally got married! Have you forgotten your vows? To have and to hold, for better or for worse. She has never given up on you!” “And you have a child! A one-year-old son! Do you want him to grow up in a broken home?” Seeing him championing her cause so fiercely, a smirk touched my lips. “Why are you so worked up about this? It couldn’t be that…” Julian cut me off, his voice growing louder, more arrogant. “Anyone with a shred of decency would be disgusted by a thankless bastard like you.” “You came from nothing. Isabelle never looked down on you. She brought you into her family’s company, made you who you are today.” “Without the Vances, would you have this life? Would you be sitting in the CEO’s chair?” SLAP! I struck him across the face, the sound echoing in the silent room. “You’re just an assistant,” I snarled. “You don’t get a say in this.” Isabelle gasped, instantly rushing to his side. “Noah, are you insane? How could you hit Julian?” She pushed me away, helping a staggering Julian to his feet, her eyes filled with nothing but concern for him. “He deserved it,” I said, my fists clenched. I felt no remorse. My actions triggered a wave of revulsion through the room. They now saw my usual good nature as a façade, a mask for a violent, hypocritical monster. Julian looked up at Isabelle, his voice laced with faux apology. “I’m sorry, Isabelle. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have spoken out of turn. I made Mr. Sutton angry. Please, don’t blame him.” He hung his head, the perfect picture of remorse. “It’s not your fault,” Isabelle soothed, then turned to me, her voice now pleading and small. “Darling, our problems shouldn’t involve other people. Today is our son’s first birthday. Please, don’t do this. I’m begging you.” As she spoke, tears streamed down her face. Her submission. My aggression. The contrast was stark. The entire room was on her side. Mr. Vance took another deep breath, trying one last time. “Noah, for years you’ve been a hardworking, devoted, and respectful man. There’s no need for this. If you can provide any real evidence that you’ve been wronged, I swear I will stand by you.” He was offering me an out. I didn’t take it. My expression remained a mask of stone. “This divorce is happening.” Mr. Vance’s face turned ashen. Tears streamed down Isabelle’s cheeks. “Noah… is there someone else?” “Think what you want,” I said coolly. “If that’s what you want to believe, then fine.” “Enough!” Mr. Vance finally snapped. “Noah Sutton, I’m giving you three days to think this over,” he thundered. “Either you get your act together and be a husband, or I’ll see you in court. And you will walk away with nothing. Don’t you forget, everything you have today, I gave you.” The threat was clear. Everyone expected me to back down. But I just turned and walked away. Outside, my junior from law school, Claire Sterling, was waiting for me. “I’ve already sent my people to Europe,” she said with a small smile. “We should have answers to what you’re looking for very soon.” “Thank you,” I said, slumping into the back seat, utterly exhausted. “In three days, I’m facing Isabelle in court. I’ll need you there as my lawyer.” I pulled out my phone and played a video from a hidden camera. On the screen, Isabelle’s beloved teddy bear was walking, bold as brass, out of the spare bedroom. It even did a little dance for the camera in the living room. Three days. It was enough time to prepare, enough time to let the truth finally come crashing down. I had planned to stay at a hotel, but my credit cards were all frozen. I’d forgotten that over the past year, financial control had slowly shifted back into the Vance family’s hands. The bank accounts were now under Isabelle’s name. It seemed I lived in a warm, happy home, but in reality, I was utterly alone. I crashed at Claire’s for the night. The next day, I went to my office to collect my things. The moment I walked into the lobby, the whispers started. “He married into the family and doesn’t even appreciate it. Filing for divorce? Dumber than a box of rocks.” “So what if Mrs. Vance likes sleeping with a teddy bear? I like it too! What’s the big deal?” “He probably saw that she gained some weight after the baby and got tired of her. I bet he’s got seven or eight mistresses on the side.” They looked at me as if I were a hardened criminal, their eyes full of judgment. Before I could say anything, Isabelle’s voice cut through the noise. “All of you, be quiet. Who gave you permission to gossip? Get back to work.” The employees scattered. “Darling,” she said, her voice soft again. “I bought you a watch. Try it on.” She pulled a brand-new watch from her bag. A gasp went through the remaining onlookers. “A limited edition Patek Philippe! Only three were ever made, all bought by a mysterious collector.” “Mrs. Vance must have pulled every string to get her hands on that. She’s so thoughtful.” Everyone was envious. But my attitude remained glacial. “I’m here for my family heirloom. You can give the watch to the teddy bear.” At my words, Isabelle froze. The employees erupted in a wave of indignation, cursing me under their breaths. I ignored them and headed for the elevator. When my parents passed away, the only thing they left me was a small pendant. They said it would ward off evil. I always wore it. Some time ago, Isabelle had complained that her office felt cold and that she heard strange noises. So I took off the pendant and hung it in her office. The strange occurrences stopped. Now, she no longer deserved to have it. I walked into her office and saw Julian playing with my son. “Mr. Sutton,” he said, a bright, welcoming smile on his face. “You’re back. A happy home is better than anything, right? Come and see your son. He’s so adorable. How could you bear to abandon him?” He picked up my son and brought him over to me. “Get out of my way,” I said, my brow furrowed in disgust. “Mr. Sutton,” Julian pressed, his voice rising in performative disbelief. “This is your son! You won’t even look at him?” “Move!” I shoved him impatiently, striding past him to the wall where my pendant hung. I snatched it down. As I turned, I heard a cry. I looked back to see both Julian and my son on the floor. Just then, Isabelle and several senior executives walked in, witnessing the scene. Isabelle rushed to our son, frantically checking him for injuries. Finding none, she let out a breath of relief. “What happened?” she demanded, her gaze shifting between me and Julian. Julian looked down, his voice shaky. “I… I just wanted Mr. Sutton to see his son. But he didn’t want to, and he pushed me.” “It’s my fault. I’m so clumsy. If I’d just kept my balance, I wouldn’t have fallen.” What? Isabelle turned and slapped me hard across the face. “You’ve become so cold-blooded! That is your son!” she shrieked. “He’s only one year old! What if he had been seriously hurt?” My reaction was still ice. “Say what you will. If he’d died from the fall, it would have nothing to do with me.”
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