A few minutes later, the sound of high heels and a girl’s surprised cry came from downstairs.
I got out of bed and walked to the window on the second floor. The sign language interpreter from that day stood there in a trench coat, her pale ankles showing beneath it.
It looked like she had twisted her ankle, but she only stuck out her tongue playfully. Max said something softly, then bent down and gently rubbed her ankle.
So, this so-called allergy only appeared when the woman wasn’t the one he loved. It felt like something heavy crushed my chest, leaving me breathless from the pain.
I quietly called my lawyer. “Help me prepare a divorce agreement. Yes, I want a divorce.”
When I returned home, I received a message from Max. “Because of your behavior, you upset the client. I’ll be hosting a banquet. Make sure you apologize properly.”
But what was my mistake? Was it that I shouldn’t have tried to save him and should’ve just let him fall off the cliff? Or was it that ridiculous ‘allergy to women’?
Still, I agreed.
On the day of the banquet, Max and I arrived almost at the same time. Standing beside him was that girl, Paige Vargas.