Chapter 151 Let’s Proceed With a Divorce
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Lucian silently watched Calista, but his gaze appeared extended beyond her, fixating on another
girl with a radiant smile.
The radiance in that girl’s eyes surpassed even the sun’s brightness in the sky, starkly contrasting
with Calista’s current dim and despairing gaze.
Calista had never looked so tired and disappointed, not even during her days of hiding from loan
sharks.
Back then, she had managed to maintain a glimmer of hope for a brighter future, even amid her
dire circumstances.
Her emotions were vivid, ranging from hatred to joy, anxiety to fear. However, in just three years,
everything had transformed.
“Do you seek a divorce because you’ve grown tired of this marriage, or is it because Paul’s
affection for you has swayed your decision?” Lucian inquired in a low, husky tone.
“So, you’re eager to have a love affair with him?”
Calista fell silent for a while.
She smiled faintly and replied hoarsely, “Lucian, we’re married, for better or worse. Do you
seriously want things to get so bad that we’re at each other’s throats before you’re willing to end
this?”
Lucian’s eyes abruptly narrowed. An intense pain shot through his heart. Then, a layer of
determination to destroy her wholly washed over him.
He lowered his head and chuckled, “What will you do if I disagree? Will you end your life or
attempt to harm me?”
The earlier arguments left Calista feeling drained, so she chose to stay silent.
“Even in moments like that, you still found the energy to take photos and gather evidence,” Lucian
remarked with a hint of weariness. “Calista, should I applaud your determination or question your
heart?”
Calista stayed quiet as Lucian raised a hand to his forehead. It was as if all his emotions had
withdrawn into a profound stillness.
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He spoke with weariness, whether prompted by Calista’s words or mere exhaustion. “If that’s your
wish, then let’s proceed with a divorce.”
After speaking, he closed his eyes in fatigue, exuding an icy demeanor that kept others at bay
Calista had longed for a divorce, so when Lucian finally agreed, she was taken aback, wondering if
she had misheard him.
She inquired, “When should we go through the formalities?”
Given Lucian’s history of toying with her, Calista found it difficult to believe his straightforward
agreement.
Lucian responded briskly, “Tomorrow morning.”
Calista sought reassurance and asked, “Is this for real?”
Lucian, now impatient, opened his bloodshot eyes and shot her a cold, mocking glance.
“Calista, take a good look at yourself. Consider if I have any reason to cling to you so desperately.
Are you more attractive than others, have a better physique, or are you more captivating in bed?
None of these factors apply, so stop letting your imagination run wild.”
After speaking, Lucian left upstairs abruptly, unwilling to spend more time with her. Calista
glanced at the clock on the wall and realized that dawn was approaching.
Fearing that Lucian might change his mind when he sobered up, she decided to stay at Everglade
Manor until morning and then retrieve her documents from her place before heading to City Hall.
Meanwhile, instead of returning to his room upstairs, Lucian headed to the study. He opened the
desk drawer, revealing only a photo frame and a few letters neatly arranged inside.
The photo frame contained a picture of a young girl who appeared to be around 16 or 17 years old
and was smiling.
Her features were exquisite, and every detail about her exuded youthful charm and liveliness. Her
delicate facial features and contours were so stunning that they could belong in a painting.
It was hard to imagine that the girl had experienced the loss of her mother and had lived in such a
turbulent family environment.
Despite the profound impact of the pain, her smile remained intact on her face.
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However, over the past three years, she had evolved from that carefree young girl into her current tranquil self. This stark contrast served Lucian as a reminder of how their marriage had shaped
her
Lucian felt a sudden pang in his heart. The intense pain surged from his soul, submerging him
completely.
He closed his eyes, his lips forming a thin line. His grip on the photo frame tightened, and in his
frustration, he accidentally shattered the glass protecting the picture.
The broken glass dug deep into his palm and fingers, causing a rush of crimson blood to stain the
photo in his hand. His fingers throbbed in unison.
Lucian was abruptly awakened from his wandering thoughts by the sharp pain. He lowered his
gaze to the now mutilated photo in his hand and casually tossed it into the nearby trash bin.
Then, he instinctively retrieved a letter from the drawer. It had a cartoonish envelope and
letterhead adorned with a whimsical font, unmistakably resonating with the essence of youth.
The words “To Dearest Paul” were written on the envelope neatly, accompanied by a whimsical
illustration of Paul in a cartoon style.
Lucian’s bloodied hand had marred the otherwise clean envelope, staining it haphazardly. Due to
its age, the paper had become somewhat fragile, allowing the blood to seep through quickly.
Lucian refrained from opening the letter, as he had read its contents countless times and could
practically recite them from memory.
Each time he had insomnia, he would read the letter, which radiated the pure and unreserved
affection of the young girl, although it was all directed at another man.
However, Lucian would find himself unable to sleep whenever he read it, trapped in a cycle of
torment.
He never mustered the courage to throw it despite the self–inflicted pain this ritual caused him. It
was a self–torture practice.
On the other hand, Calista leaned against the single sofa, half–dozing. Suddenly, a loud thud
echoed from upstairs, resembling something knocked over or falling. It jolted her awake from her
hazy slumber.
She opened her eyes and looked upstairs. The sound had originated from the study room. It was a
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Calista refrained from venturing upstairs to inspect the source of the disturbance. Instead, she lay there with her eyes fully open, fixed on the ceiling, anticipating the arrival of dawn.
At half–past eight in the morning, there was still no sign of activity from upstairs. Calista grew anxious. She kept glancing upstairs and at her watch, her eyebrows furrowing into a deep crease.
Could it be that Lucian had sobered up and changed his mind? As this thought consumed her, she
decided to get upstairs and find out.
Just then, Lucian finally emerged from his room.
He had changed into a fresh set of clothes. His hands were wrapped in layers of bandages,
reminding Calista of the sound of something breaking from last night.
Lucian’s expression remained cold and indifferent, with a slight bruise under his eye. His gaze
passed through Calista as if she was invisible to him.
The two of them got into the car to head to City Hall. They stopped by Calista’s place to pick up
the necessary documents along the way.
City Hall was bustling, especially toward the end of the year, as many couples were eager to tie the knot. In contrast, divorce cases were a rarity, with only a handful of couples seeking to end
their marriages.
Lucian and Calista stood in line, and their turn didn’t take long to arrive. The staff followed their
usual procedure of trying to reconcile the couple.
Calista spoke firmly, “Madam, there’s no reconciling. We’ve been to the court.”
The paperwork was in order, and since they had no children and no property disputes, the divorce certificates were processed swiftly. Soon, two copies were placed on the desk before Calista and
Lucian.
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