Chapter 1 For the ninety-ninth time, Lawrence Chavez's secretary got it wrong-booking an appointment for divorce registration instead of marriage licensing. Furious, I charged into Lawrence's office. "Lawrence, is this your so-called brilliant hire? The master's graduate from a top university? "If she can't even do her job right, fire her!" Lawrence looked up from a pile of documents and glanced at what was on my phone. Then he said flatly, "I told you already. She's too good for trivial tasks like this. "Instead of wasting your time making a scene here, why don't you book the appointment yourself?" He didn't bother to look at me as he spoke. Without another word, I turned to leave and texted my father. "Dad, I don't want to be with Lawrence anymore." Lawrence had no idea-it was his marriage to me that secured his place as heir to the Chavez family. Once our engagement fell through, his family would be sure to move in and replace him. My father sighed on the other end of the line. "Hattie, think carefully. Is this really what you want?" I knew very well-this time, Lawrence and I were done for good. As I scrolled through the ninety-nine divorce registration notices, memories of him defending his secretary, Clarissa Webb, resurfaced. "She made a simple mistake. It's hardly a big deal. I'll tell her to be more careful next time." "She's so swamped. It's understandable that she slips occasionally." "Don't be so hard on her, alright? She's young and inexperienced. I've reminded her already." Clarissa had made the same mistake again and again, and Lawrence had found excuses for her again and again. Behind every excuse lay his utter indulgence toward her. His every text was a knife, twisting deep into my heart. As my eyes lingered on the screen, tears welled up uncontrol- lably. Just as I put away my phone, Lawrence stormed out of his office. 0.0 % 08:16 "This is nothing. Yet you had to take it to our parents? "Harriet Wheatly, when will you stop being so willful?" He frowned, his tone stern and accusing. As I was about to retort, someone suddenly took my wrist. I turned around and saw Clarissa. "I'm so sorry, Ms. Wheatly. I really didn't mean to," she said. "The page kept redirecting... I swear I clicked on marriage registration! "I'll book the appointment for you and Mr. Chavez again. This time, I'll make sure it's done properly." Her shoulders slumped in defeat, and she looked utterly aggrieved. She pulled out her phone, tapping the screen while sobbing intermittently. The distress in Lawrence's eyes was palpable. Clarissa held out her phone, showing me the booking page. "It won't be necessary," I said coldly, trying to push her phone away. Just then, her finger slipped-whether by accident or design-and the screen switched to another page. In that fleeting moment, I saw a photo of Lawrence and her, their cheeks pressed together. I immediately seized her wrist. Her hand jerked back, and the phone clattered to the floor, shattering on impact. The entire office turned to look, but no one dared to make a sound. Clarissa's cries grew louder. "Mr. Chavez," she wailed, "that phone... it had all the voice messages between my mom and me. They were the only things I had left to remember her by..." 57.7 % 08:16