"I want a divorce, Phoenix." I gazed disbelievingly at Ace, the love of my life, my husband of five long years.

"Please Lord, let this be a dream," I mumbled, ignoring the splitting pain in my chest.

I closed my eyes, praying that when I lift my eyes open, the nightmare will come to an end.

But the heavens have failed to grant my pleas. When my eyes opened I found myself seated across my husband with a stone-cold expression plastered on his face.

I couldn't describe the pain, but it made me stop breathing.

My fingers trembled, and I slowly had to let go of the glass of champagne I held in my icy fingers.

"You're j-joking right?" The words tumbled freely before I could stop myself.

There is a small part of me that wishes this is another one of his jokes, and that he didn't mean what he said. But when the words left his mouth, it felt like a sharp piece of glass piercing through my illusions. It hit me even harder than the first time he said those words, "I'm serious, Phoenix. I want to end this marriage."

We shared five years of marriage and yet he looked at me like a total stranger—not the same woman he vowed to love for the rest of his life in front of the altar.

His face showed no sign of humor, his lips were not stretched into his customary wide boyish grin that I loved. That moment I knew my greatest fear had finally come to life.

My throat went dry as we fought gaze. Trying to quench my thirst, I picked up the glass of champagne but accidentally knocked it over.

The crimson liquid spilled all over the cream-colored tablecloth before I was able to pick it up. The glass was now empty—like how hollow I feel deep within.

My eyes landed on the mess I made on the table cloth. If I could see how the blood flowed from my wounded heart, it would have made a huge red stain on the tablecloth, similar to the spilled champagne.

"Why Ace, Am I not enough?" I said the words aloud and without a trace of fear showing in my face.

I was extraordinarily calm when a normal wife would be furiously sobbing at the mere mention of divorce from her beloved husband.

"You're not the problem, it's me. I'm sorry I fell out of love." He replied calmly. I couldn't help but wonder if he even shared my pain, when he couldn't even show a speck of sympathy or even fake one. "I made a mistake marrying you."

I died inside. He regretted our marriage and it hurt.

His words felt like an invisible hand was gripping my neck, causing my chest to constrict until I feared I might not be able to breathe.

After sacrificing my dreams to make him happy, he broke my heart into thousands of shards in return. The damage had been done, my irreparable heart was beyond salvation.

Seeing how lightly he was taking this break up twisted my fragile heart. He showed no pain as he bid me goodbye, making me wonder if he ever loved me.

"Why Ace?" I asked for the second time, demanding the truth from him.

"I want a child, Phoenix. As my wife, you failed to bear me a son. You can't fulfill the responsibility of providing me an heir and I have no further reason to stay in this marriage."

His words pierced straight to my heart like a relentless attack, as if a knife was repeatedly piercing me. Yet, surprisingly, I managed to stay conscious despite the overwhelming pain.

If Vien, our daughter, didn't die from that accident then this would never have happened. But that tragedy claimed my daughter's life.

Even if I wished I was the one who died that night, it will never change that truth that she's gone forever.

And though I tried to have another child, I failed. But Ace shouldn't put all the blame on my shoulders, it wasn't my fault alone.

"Can't you see I'm doing my best, Ace?" The words came out of my lips in a barely audible whisper. "Don't you see how difficult it was for me too? I go to regular check-ups, undergo strict diets, and obediently follow all my doctor's advice. Even if sometimes it was difficult to follow those strict demands, and even if I was afraid of the pain from the injection needles, I kept my mouth shut and never did I complain. I did all that because I love you."

The lengthy reproach I shot him sent me on the verge of tears, but he looked at me with his cold, vacant eyes, without even bothering to fake sympathy for the sake of our long marriage.

I shook my head and closed my eyes, refusing to cry or break down in public. Even if it was getting harder to do so after every passing second, I had to maintain my composure. Everyone inside the restaurant was looking at our table and I didn't want to create a scene in front of a huge crowd.

One mistake and I'll end up as tomorrow's sizzling headline. My life was complicated enough, I didn't want to add more burden to my miserable life by announcing to the world I was Mr. CEO's secret wife.

A few people—including my co-workers at Greyson's business hotel—knew about my marriage to him. If the public knew a billionaire like him married a lowly hotel staff, it would have caused a huge scandal.

Ace Carter Grayson, the man sitting like a demigod on the opposite chair in front of me, was a notorious playboy, gracing the front cover of illustrious magazines all over the country.

Well-known in the business world, he came from an influential family and every soul in the country knew about his existence.

He was perfect on all fronts, the exact description of every girl's dream husband, but to me—Ace was now my nightmare. I wanted to salvage our marriage, yet how could I when my husband showed no regard for it