My voice cracked as I stared at him, my anger fueled by years of suppression.
"Do you want to see me on my knees, begging for mercy? Is that what will satisfy you?"
I had never raised my voice like this in our two years of marriage. Asher was visibly a bit stunned.
We had fought before, but it was always me who apologized first, placating him while he played the part of a calm, rational man. In truth, he twisted every argument to make me feel like I was the one at fault.
I used to believe him, thinking I must have been wrong. But now I saw the truth—he never loved me. His so-called "love" was just a thinly veiled need for control.
Even if he once felt like a beacon of light, pulling me from the depths of despair, that didn’t erase the harm he had inflicted on me now.
I took a deep breath and stared him in the eyes.
"If we get divorced, you’ll finally be free to flaunt your relationship with Nora without restraint."
His brows furrowed, his patience wearing thin.
"Lily Rose," he sneered, "I have seen you grovel before. Why are you yelling now?"
I looked at him in shock, unable to believe that these words came from Asher.