She Accepted His Ring, so I Signed the Divorce

Louie's POV

My wife brought me along to a gathering with childhood friends, and after a few drinks, they decided to play "house."

Harry Williamson slipped a ring onto her ring finger and jokingly asked if she wanted to marry him.

Despite being already married, my wife giggled and still said yes.

That night, after we got home, I quietly drafted the divorce papers.

When she saw them, she exploded. “You're divorcing me over a game?”

I nodded. “Yes. I want a divorce.”

——

I never wanted to go to Tracy KainClark’s little reunion in the first place.

“It’s just this once,” she said. “Harry’s finally back in the country, and everyone’s missed him.”

She wore me down with her sweettalking. Eventually, I gave in.

The dinner was held in a private room at an upscale Italian restaurant. When we arrived, there were already five or six people there.

The moment Tracy walked in, the room lit up, and everyone surrounded her instantly.

“Tracy, Harry saved a seat just for you!”

One of the girls then pulled her away like I wasn’t even there.

At the head of the table sat Harry with his legs casually crossed, wearing a tailored shirt. His sleeves were also rolled up just enough to flash his luxury watch with a smug little smirk to go with it.

“Well, well, look at this. Our golden boy and elegant queen, reunited at last!”

“If Harry hadn’t gone overseas back then, their kid would be in middle school by now!”

As soon as that punch was dropped, the room erupted in laughter.

Tracy blushed and gave the girl a playful slap on the arm. But she didn’t deny it.

Seeing that, my fingers tightened around my glass.

Harry looked past Tracy and gave me the briefest glance.

But it was just that, because for the next two hours, I sat there like a ghost, invisible.

They, on the other hand, traded stories, laughing over memories I was never part of.

And every time the conversation turned to Harry and Tracy’s “childhood sweetheart saga,” someone would glance at me, then lean in and whisper.

Unfortunately for them, I could still hear them.

“Remember how in kindergarten, Tracy always had to be Harry’s bride when we played house? If she didn’t get to, she’d cry until she did.”

“How about in middle school, when Harry wrote her a love letter and the teacher caught him? As punishment, the teacher made him read it out loud to the whole class.”

“Don't forget about our senior prom when he ditched our class princess just to dance the first song with Tracy.”

Reminiscing about all that, Tracy laughed so hard that she was nearly in tears, chiming in with extra details, completely caught up in the nostalgia.

Her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol and excitement. Under the soft lights, she looked radiant, like a flower in full bloom.

Then someone said, “Why don’t we play house again, like we used to?”

Harry raised his glass. “Great idea.”

Everyone cheered, except me.

And just like that, the game began.

Harry pulled out a ring, got down on one knee in front of Tracy, and said, “Ms. Tracy Kain, will you marry me?”

For a second, the room went silent.

Then it exploded with screams, laughter, and whistles.

Contrary to them, I was frozen still as I watched my wife smile sweetly at another man and say, “I do.”

She even held out her left hand and let him slip the ring on her ring finger, outshining the diamond wedding ring I had given her.

And in that moment, I heard something inside me shatter.

As such, I stood up, causing the chair to scrape loudly against the floor.

With that noise, everyone turned to look at me, even Tracy, with their faces still lit with laughter.

“I’ll head out first. You all enjoy the rest of your night,” I said.

My voice sounded calm, surprising even me.

Frowning, Tracy asked, “What’s wrong, Louie?”

Louie's POV

I didn’t answer her. Instead, I grabbed my coat and walked out of the room without looking back.

Behind me, I heard a few awkward coughs, followed by someone who deliberately raised their voice while saying, “Forget him. Let’s keep playing!”

The night air was sharp and cold as I stood on the curb, waiting for a taxi.

Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Tracy.

[Don’t ruin the night, okay? It was just a game.]

Even after reading that, I didn’t reply.

When I got home, I searched for a divorce agreement template online, printed it out, and signed my name at the bottom. Then I placed it right on the coffee table in plain sight.

After that, I sat on the couch, chainsmoking in silence.

It was almost 1 a.m. when Tracy finally came home.

She kicked off her heels, reeking of alcohol, and muttered, “You’re still—”

But then, she trailed off when she saw the papers.

“What is this?” she asked, then grabbed the sheets, and her eyes widened. “A divorce agreement? Louie, have you lost your mind?”

I looked at her calmly. “No. I’ve never been clearer.”

“You’re divorcing me over a game?” she snapped. Her voice rose, and the papers shook in her hands. “Do you have any idea how childish and ridiculous this is?”

Instead of arguing with her, I simply handed her a pen and said, “Just sign it.”

But then, she gripped my arm, her nails digging into my skin. “Louie, it really was just a game. That’s how we’ve always played since we were kids!”

I paused, locking eyes with her. “Tracy, you’re my wife. At least for now. Because marriage comes with boundaries.”

I then pulled my arm free and headed to the bathroom.

When I came out, she had changed into a black lace lingerie set and was halfreclining on the bed, the soft light casting shadows over her curves. Her eyes were also filled with calculated charm.

If this were before, I might have lost control, pulled her into my arms, and surrendered to the moment.

But now? I felt nothing but disgust.

“Honey…” she purred, patting the empty spot beside her with a soft, sultry smile.

I toweled off my hair, walked to the closet, pulled out a clean set of pajamas, and put them on.

“Don’t bother. Get some rest. I’ll be sleeping in the study tonight.”

After hearing what I'd said, her smile faltered. Panic then flickered across her face, then turned to anger.

“What do you even want from me?” she snapped. “I already apologized. What else do you want me to do?”

“You don’t need to do anything,” I said without looking back. “The only thing left between us is divorce.”

She sat up straight, chest rising and falling with fury. “Don’t push it, Louie! I’ve already humbled myself to please you. What, do you want me to get down on my knees and beg?”

I stopped walking and turned to face her, my eyes cold. “You really think this is about you trying to please me? Tracy, you still don’t get it.”

“Get what?” she scoffed. “It was just a stupid game! You’re blowing this way out of proportion!”

“Am I really blowing it out of proportion?”

I then pulled out my phone and swiped through the photos one by one, showing them to her.

It was a photo from two weeks ago when Harry had just landed back in the country. There, she and Harry were at the airport café, her head resting on his shoulder, smiling like she belonged there.

Aside from the picture, I also showed her the call log from last weekend, which was over two hours long, in the middle of the night.

Lastly, tonight's photo of him holding her by the waist, their foreheads practically touching.

“These were just games, too?” I asked, voice calm but sharp. “Or is it our marriage that’s the game to you?”

Louie's POV

Instantly, Tracy’s expression changed. “You’ve been spying on me?”

“No,” I said calmly. “I’ve just stopped pretending not to see.”

She stared at me, her eyes blazing with fury, and exclaimed, “Fine! Don’t come crawling back later!”

She then grabbed her phone and quickly dialed a number.

“Harry, can you come pick me up?”

Her voice trembled, filled with fake vulnerability, as she asked that.

On the other end, I could hear Harry’s concerned voice asking if she was okay.

Tracy looked at me with a smug, defiant gaze while saying, “Louie, you still have time to change your mind.”

Yet I didn’t say a word. I turned and walked into the study, shutting the door behind me with a heavy thud.

Inside, I lit a cigarette and took a long drag.

Outside the window, the night was still and dark. Every so often, headlights from passing cars cut through the silence.

Half an hour later, the doorbell rang.

Then I heard Tracy rush to open the door, followed by Harry’s soft voice.

“Tracy, are you okay?”

Despite that, I didn’t get up. I just sat there, alone in the study, until I heard the front door close again.

The house instantly fell silent, completely still except for the steady ticking of the clock.

A few minutes later, my phone buzzed. Tracy messaged me.

[You pushed me to this, Louie.]

[Now, we’re done!]

Having read that, I didn’t respond. I tossed the phone aside, picked up my pen, and added a few more lines about the division of assets to the divorce agreement.

If we were ending it, then let’s end it properly.

When I finished, I sat back and stared out the window, memories flooding in.

It had been seven years since that summer night when I first met Tracy at a friend’s party.

She was sitting quietly in the corner, listening to music, completely out of place in the noisy crowd.

I handed her a glass of lemon water, and she looked up at me. Her eyes were so clear that it felt like they could reflect the entire night sky.

“Thanks,” she said.

As she took the glass, her fingers brushed the back of my hand, and I felt like electricity shot through me.

After that night, we started talking regularly.

She loved hearing the funny stories I told about work, and I loved watching her paint, so focused, so peaceful.

She used to say my voice made her feel safe, and her smile became my favorite part of every day.

Six months later, I finally worked up the courage to confess my feelings.

She blushed and said yes.

Our relationship didn’t start off easy.

Her parents were firmly against it, especially her father. He thought I was just a regular office worker from the countryside, not good enough for his precious daughter.

But Tracy was stubborn to the core.

She stood her ground, even went so far as to move out despite having a row with her family. In the end, we squeezed into a tiny rented apartment just to be together.

Resting her head on my shoulder, she whispered one night, “As long as I’m with you, nothing else matters.”

In that moment, I silently promised myself I’d love her for the rest of my life.

I worked my way up at their company, grinding day and night. Three years in a row, I topped the sales charts. Eventually, her father gave me his approval.

On our wedding day, Tracy ran into my arms in her gown, crying like a child.

“Louie… I finally get to marry you.”

Married life was simple, but sweet.

She liked to sleep in on weekend mornings, and I’d make coffee and wait for her to wake.

She always left her socks lying around, and I’d follow behind, picking them up without complaint.

When she painted, I’d sit quietly nearby reading a book. Sometimes I’d glance over at her, feeling completely content.

I thought we’d go on like that forever, growing old side by side.

But then, Harry came back from overseas.

At first, Tracy only mentioned him occasionally.

Louie's POV

She told me he was just an old childhood friend who had been working abroad for years and had finally come back.

Since that was what she had introduced to me, I didn’t think much of it. In fact, I even encouraged her to go catch up with her old friends.

But little by little, things started to change.

Her phone began buzzing more often, and she had more sudden “business trips.” Her evenings were also filled with vague excuses about “reconnecting with old friends” I’d never heard of before.

Outside, the rain poured harder, and the world beyond the window blurred into gray.

I turned my eyes to the wedding photo hanging on the wall.

In that picture, Tracy was smiling so sweetly, like I was the only thing that mattered in her entire world.

But now, that smile was being shown to someone else.

Maybe some things just couldn't stand the test of time. Maybe memories were stronger. Or maybe childhood bonds never really faded.

I closed my eyes and let the past and present twist together in my mind.

I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping that night.

The next morning, I arrived early at Kain Company, ready to hand in my resignation.

I was just a few steps from HR when I ran into Dominic Stephens, the manager.

“Mr. Clark! Emergency meeting. Ms. Kain wants all senior staff in the conference room right away!”

Before I could respond, he grabbed my arm and pulled me along.

The room was already packed when I entered.

Tracy stood at the front beside the projector. She looked sharp in a tailored business suit, hair pinned up neatly, not a trace of last night’s messiness in sight.

Her eyes flickered slightly when she saw me, but she quickly masked it.

Standing behind her was Harry, dressed to the nines, flashing a practiced, polished smile.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Tracy began. “We’ve gathered you all here today to announce an important personnel change. After discussion with the board, we’ve decided to appoint Mr. Harry Williamson as the new Director of the Marketing Department. Effective immediately.”

The room instantly exploded, and every head turned to me—some with confusion, some with sympathy, others simply stunned.

“Ms. Kain, that’s not proper procedure,” Eddie Grant from finance stood up first. “Mr. Clark has led the marketing team to double its performance for three consecutive years. He’s earned that position—”

“This is the board’s decision,” Tracy cut him off, her voice sharp. “Besides, Harry holds a degree from a top international business school and has worked as an executive for global corporations. He brings an international perspective we need.”

Despite the chaos going on, I just sat silently in the corner, saying nothing.

“But Mr. Clark knows the domestic market like the back of his hand,” Matt Schuman from sales chimed in. “He was the one who closed the North America project last month singlehandedly!”

“Louie has done great work,” Tracy said at last, finally looking my way, but her gaze felt cold and distant, like I was just another name on a spreadsheet. “But the company needs fresh blood to keep growing. Besides,” she paused, “Mr. Clark’s recent performance hasn’t been up to standard. I doubt he can keep up with the pressure of the role.”

Only then did I stand up slowly. “You’re right, Ms. Kain. I haven’t been at my best lately. I agree. I’m no longer fit to serve as Director.”

Dominic was already breaking into a nervous sweat.

“But Mr. Clark, the South American clients only trust you. And you’re the one who understands the entire new product rollout!”

At that, a wave of agreement rippled through the room.

Facing a lot of disagreement, Tracy’s face shifted slightly. She hadn’t expected this many people to side with me.

“Quiet!” she snapped, slamming her palm against the table. “This company doesn’t belong to one person alone! Louie’s contributions are undeniable, but the board’s decision stands. Harry will take over as Director. End of discussion!”

"Ms. Kain," I called, then stepped forward and placed an envelope on the table. “My resignation.”

Upon hearing that, the room fell into dead silence.

Tracy stared at the paper, her face turning pale.

She hadn’t expected me to do this in front of everyone.

“Louie, you—”

“One more thing,” I interrupted.

Louie's POV

Cutting her off, I pulled out a thick folder from my briefcase.

“These are all my client contacts,” I said, placing the documents in front of Harry, “along with everything related to the new product launch. With Mr. Williamson’s experience, I’m sure he’ll handle it just fine.”

The smile on Harry’s face instantly froze.

He clearly hadn’t expected me to hand over years of hard work so cleanly.

“Mr. Clark!” A few veteran employees stood up, visibly upset.

“You can’t just leave like this!”

“The company needs you!”

I faced them and gave a deep bow. “Thank you, all of you, for your support over the years. Goodbye.”

As I turned to leave, I saw Tracy open her mouth, like she wanted to say something.

But when Harry gently reached for her hand, she stopped.

Afterward, I didn’t look back as I walked out.

Back in my office, I started packing my things when Harry showed up.

He leaned against the doorframe, twirling a metal lighter between his fingers, which Tracy gave me for my birthday last year.

“You pack fast,” he smirked. “Tracy said you were sentimental. Guess not.”

I didn’t bother looking at him and kept organizing the drawers.

Suddenly, he pressed down on my hand, stopping me from picking up a folder.

His voice then turned cold as he warned, “You better not get any funny ideas with those client records. If you try anything, the company will come after you.”

I shook his hand off, not even using much force, but he staggered dramatically backward, all the way to the window.

Somehow, the lighter in his hand just so happened to catch the curtain.

Flames shot up instantly, and smoke poured into the office.

I froze in shock.

“Help! Somebody help! He’s trying to kill me!” Harry screamed like a madman, lunging toward the curtains to make sure the fire caught his sleeve.

Outside, I heard rushed footsteps.

Then the door burst open, and Tracy and her secretary rushed in.

The moment she saw the fire, her pupils shrank in shock.

“Louie! Are you out of your mind?!”

Like a furious lioness, she stormed toward me and shoved me with all her strength.

My head slammed hard against the sharp edge of the desk, and a bolt of pain exploded through my skull.

At that moment, the room spun, and my ears rang.

Just before I blacked out, I saw Tracy throwing herself at Harry, beating at the flames on his arm with her jacket.

“Call 911! Quick!”

“Harry! Harry!”

The sharp smell of antiseptic filled my nose as I slowly opened my eyes.

A blindingly white hospital ceiling then came into view.

My head felt like it had been split open, as if someone had been pounding it with a hammer.

“You’re awake?”

A cold voice drifted over from beside the bed.

I turned my head slowly, and there, Tracy stood by the window, arms crossed.

Her makeup was flawless, but the dark circles under her eyes said she hadn’t slept at all.

“Thanks to you, Harry has seconddegree burns. I never thought you could be so vicious, Louie.”

Despite the accusation, I didn't say a word and simply closed my eyes again.

Seeing me calm, her expression faltered, but it quickly hardened again.

“Arson and assault. That’s enough to land you in prison for years.”

She pulled a document from her purse and then tossed it onto the bed.

“Sign it. I had the lawyer redo the divorce agreement. For the sake of what we had, I might be able to convince Harry to drop the charges, but only if you leave with nothing.”

I flipped through the document.

The last page was already signed, her elegant signature sitting neatly on the line.

“Fine.”

I picked up the pen and signed without hesitation.

With one final signature, our seven years of love were closed.