Divorce me I'm done serving you (Ayla) novel Chapter 872

Nina stayed in the private room, enduring the curious stares, but she considered it a necessary toll on the road to becoming Mrs. Bowman. Once she and Edgar were married, every one of these people would change their tune—the same way they’d flipped the moment Halle opened her mouth. People were fickle. Their attitudes changed with whoever was standing in front of them.

Predictably, the second Halle left, the gossips who’d been trashing her pivoted to defending Edgar. He was one of them—a classmate, a friend. They weren't vicious enough to go too far.

“Honestly, Halle’s kind of intense. One misunderstanding and she makes the whole room uncomfortable. Zero face given. Poor Edgar—he came to have fun, and now he’s going to be in a mood all night.”

Because the room leaned Edgar’s way, the chorus agreed. Halle was being petty and dramatic.

But what people said and what people thought were two different things. The smart ones could already see that the problem was Edgar.

Some of them genuinely couldn’t figure out what Edgar’s angle was. Was he trying to show off that two women were fighting over him? Boost his ego?

If it was a genuine misunderstanding, fine. But if Edgar had orchestrated it? Then, he was pathetic!

Sure, Edgar came from money and had a decent face, but peel the mask away, and he was just another painfully average guy.

Because any man who got his kicks from watching women fight over him had already shown you exactly how small his world was.

Edgar left the room and went through a violent emotional rollercoaster. He’d been fully prepared to see Halle devastated, humiliated, and in pain. Instead, she’d walked in calm as ice and demolished him in front of everyone.

For a split second, he’d seen his father’s shadow superimposed on Halle.

That was why he couldn’t accept any of this. Because he couldn’t accept it, every feeling he had curdled into rage.

Edgar didn’t even want to think about what his classmates thought of him now. He cared about face, and Halle had shredded it. He was convinced she’d done it on purpose. She deliberately tried to ruin him.

They reached a quiet corner.

Halle wanted answers. She didn’t press the attack. She waited for Edgar to explain.

In public, Edgar at least had the self-awareness not to melt down the way he did at home. He forced several deep breaths, barely wrestled his emotions into submission, and spat out, “I did it on purpose.”

Halle had already been shocked once by his depravity. There was no second-time surprise.

“Why?”

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