Goodbye, My Love

"Oh, sister-in-law, what's going on? Running away from home?" Madeline had just stepped off the second floor with her suitcase when Grace Cook's mocking voice followed her. Madeline ignored her, casting only a cold glance before continuing down. Coincidentally, she ran into Heather Cook—Grace's mother, the wealthy, snobbish lady who had always looked down on her—standing on the first floor, eyeing her with disdain. "Early in the morning, where are you off to with that suitcase?" After three years of being mother- and daughter-in-law, Madeline knew this was the prelude to another confrontation. In the past, she would have apologized meekly. But today was different. She no longer wanted Cook—so why serve this ill-tempered old woman? "Anywhere is fine. But Mrs. Heather Cook, rest assured—I'll never come back to the Cook family again." She had shed her usual gentle, deferential demeanor. Her words were calm, but her eyes no longer held flattery. The coldness in them made her seem like a different person. Heather wasn't used to her once-obedient daughter-in-law talking back. Her face darkened. "Madeline, is this how you speak to your elders?" "You treat me however you like—I'll treat you the same." She arched a perfectly shaped brow, her arrogance enraging Heather. "Madeline, do you still consider me your mother-in-law?" Madeline looked at her, then smiled faintly. "Sorry, soon you won't be." As she finished speaking, a car horn blared from outside the villa. Madeline raised an eyebrow. "I'm leaving, Mrs. Cook. Everything I left behind is trash. Burn it, toss it—just don't contact me ever again." With that, she slowly dragged her suitcase toward the door, adding one last line: "You Cooks are disgusting." Heather hadn't recovered when she heard that final jab—her fury exploded. "Madeline, have you lost your mind? Wait till I tell Cook—" "Mom, did you see that woman Madeline? So ridiculous—dragging a suitcase this early! Hahaha, maybe she's hoping I'll beg her to stay?" Grace stepped out, saw her mother frozen, and tugged her sleeve. "Mom, what's wrong?" Heather's expression was complex. In the past, mentioning Cook would make Madeline obedient. But today, she'd walked away without looking back. Outside, the sports car sped off, leaving only dust. "She… she's gone?" Grace followed out, smirking. "Good riddance. Now that Elena's back, if she doesn't leave now, my brother will kick her out!" Heather agreed. With the Elena's back, if Madeline left voluntarily, at least she had some sense. Meanwhile, Madeline sat in the Porsche, flipping through the divorce agreement. After reviewing the terms, she signed her name with satisfaction. Beside her, Wendy Taylor clicked her tongue lightly. "Really just like that?" Madeline capped the pen. "What else?" Cook's first love was back—what was there left to hope for? Three years. Not long, not short. Madeline had believed even a cold heart could warm up. But Cook had no heart. His heart belonged to his first love. She admitted she'd been shameless—using a favor to force him into marriage, falsely holding the title of Mrs. Cook for three years. Now that Elena Peterson was back, she naturally had to step aside. Otherwise, how could she honor Cook's three years of chastity for his first love? Yes. She'd been married to Cook for three years, and they'd never once consummated the marriage. Thankfully, the secret hadn't leaked. Otherwise, those who'd mocked her for climbing the social ladder for three years would have a field day. Three years was enough. Fair repayment for her seven years of foolish infatuation. She covered her eyes with one hand, hiding her tears from Wendy. She was human. No matter how carefree she acted, having ten years of affection end like this—anyone would be hurt. The red sports car stopped. Wendy adjusted her sunglasses. "We're here, Maddie. Charge forward—Bighead's always behind you!" Wendy blew her a kiss. Madeline laughed. "Alright, off to battle." Indeed. How to toss the divorce papers to Cook with both boldness and grace—that was the real challenge. Madeline grabbed the agreement, opened the car door, and stepped out. After three years of marriage, this wasn't her first time at Vertex Group. Nor was it the first time being brushed off by the receptionist: "Ms. Jenkins, without an appointment, you can't go up. Mr. Cook is very busy. If anyone could just walk in without booking, what's the point of having a receptionist?" Even a lowly receptionist dared treat her this way. For three years, not once had she been called "Mrs. Cook." Obviously, Cook had never considered her worthy. Madeline lowered her gaze and gave a soft laugh. "Vertex's employee training is clearly lacking. If even the wife of Mr. Cook needs an appointment to see him, then being Mrs. Cook is meaningless." With that, she gave the receptionist a cold look and strode toward the elevator in her heels. The receptionist was stunned by this new Madeline. Once she recovered, she scoffed—but still, fearing trouble, quickly called upstairs to report. Madeline hadn't even arrived, and Cook already knew she was coming. He frowned. "Don't let her in." He had a short meeting in five minutes. The secretary nodded and left the office. Just as she stepped out, she saw Madeline approaching in high heels. Madeline wore a floral-print, waist-cinched A-line skirt—soft and elegant. But for some reason, the secretary sensed something different in her gaze. "Nina." Madeline greeted her first, then without waiting for a reply, pushed open the door to Cook's office. "Excuse me, Mr. Cook. There's an agreement I need you to sign." She walked straight toward the man behind the desk, met his icy stare, and placed the divorce papers in front of him. "Sign it."