When Ethan returned home with a chilling aura, the porridge Olivia had spent the entire afternoon preparing for him had already turned cold.
And there, on her left hand, sat that ring.
Seeing Olivia still sitting at the dining table so late, Ethan furrowed his brows.
He was about to say something, but his gaze first fell on that ring.
He paused for a moment, then asked coldly, "Are you trying to pick a fight with me?"
To an uninformed passerby, they would never guess that Olivia and Ethan were supposed to get married the very next day.
Olivia touched her mutilated right hand, and when she felt the hideous, protruding scar, her heart felt as if it had been viciously stabbed.
He clearly knew that her right hand could no longer wear a ring, and he was also very conscious of the scars on her left hand.
He clearly knew how much she had been looking forward to their wedding all these years.
Yet he still rubbed salt into her wounds time and time again.
Was he trying to remind her that this wedding was something she had begged for?
Olivia's heart ached, and the gaze with which she looked at him no longer held the tenderness and affection it once did.
After a moment of silence, she said softly, "Ethan, let's get a divorce."
Ethan's brows furrowed even deeper, and his tone grew even more impatient, "We're getting married tomorrow, and you're making a fuss again? Wasn't it you who insisted on making up for the wedding?"
Olivia ignored his interrogation and painstakingly used her left hand to pick up a piece of the cold, candied taro.
The dish had already turned cold, and the original sweetness had turned into bitterness in her mouth.
Just like her battered heart.
However, his attitude made one thing clear to her.
When it comes to someone you can't win over, it's better to end things early than to keep entangling endlessly.
Ethan's face looked extremely unpleasant, and the way he looked at Olivia was cold enough to make one shudder.
Olivia put down her chopsticks and said calmly, "I'm not joking with you.
Find some time, and let's go through the divorce procedures."
Ethan stopped in his tracks as he was about to leave, and when he turned his head, his eyes were full of surprise.
He suppressed his anger and questioned Olivia in a deep voice, "Olivia, do you know what you're saying?"
"I said, divorce.
Which word do you not understand."
Olivia looked straight into his eyes, her gaze as calm as water.
He let out a cold laugh, his eyes full of mockery.
He probably thought this was another trick Olivia was using to get his attention.
"I'm not falling for this.
I'll pretend I didn't hear what you just said.
You'd better calm down and think it through."
With that, Ethan picked up his coat and strode out the door.
Olivia and Ethan had met in college.
They were under the same advisor, except Olivia was a year below him.
At that time, he was a well-known academic god in the school and was often held up by professors as a model student.
In order to get close to him, Olivia joined the project team he was in, but forgot that she still had a pile of coursework and tasks assigned by her advisor weighing on her.
During that time, Olivia was so busy that she was burning the candle at both ends, staying up late every night and running around.
Several times, after he caught her staying in the lab to catch up on assignments, he would run over and teach her hand in hand.
When he taught her, he was incredibly focused and especially patient with her.
So much so that the other senior members of the team often teased them.
At that time, whenever Ethan faced everyone's teasing, he would always smile tenderly, put his arm around Olivia's shoulder, and say, "I just like Olivia and want to take good care of her."His love for me was open and aboveboard.
After graduation, we worked together in the same nature reserve, conducting in-depth research.
At that time, we shared the same interests and were still in the throes of passionate love, and every day was filled with joy.
Later, during a field survey, we were surrounded by a group of crazed wild animals.
In the process of escaping, Ethan fell into a deep pit.
I refused to abandon him to save myself and, despite the pain of being bitten, threw a rope to him.
My right hand was almost bitten off, and my left hand, also unprotected by clothing, was covered in scars.
By the time the rescue team arrived, I had already fallen unconscious due to excessive blood loss, and he held me, his whole body trembling.
His eyes were red, and he kept apologizing to me, "Olivia, I'm sorry.
It's my fault for not protecting you well.
It's all my fault."
He was consumed with guilt and blamed himself for not being able to keep me safe.
That accident resulted in the amputation of my right hand, leaving me disabled.
I could no longer perform precise experiments like before, and even my daily life was affected.
When Ethan learned of this news, he was devastated and stayed by my side for three days without eating or drinking.
It was only after I forced myself to console him that he finally pulled himself together.
At that time, he held me tightly and said with determination, "Olivia, from now on, I will definitely make you the happiest woman in the world."