Five Years of Marriage to Mr. Bradford (by Koi Fish) novel Chapter 6

"Vance..." Rebecca choked back her tears, her voice trembling despite her efforts to stay composed.

"What's wrong?" Vance reached for her hand. "If you feel like crying, then cry. Don't hold back."

His voice was truly so soft and gentle. It brought her back to the day years ago when she had come out of the operating room after the surgery.

He and the nurse had wheeled her back to the ward, and he had stayed by her bedside, speaking to her in that same tender tone, as if his words could drip with compassion. "Does it hurt? Cry it out. Don't hold back."

At that time, she had believed that such gentle care was the best medicine to ease her pain. Then it took her years to fully understand that a man's tenderness and concern could never truly evolve into love.

"Vance, let's get a divorce," she said in a low voice, withdrawing her hand as the stinging pain gradually blurred her eyes with tears.

He furrowed his brow, clearly not expecting her to say something like that.

After a brief silence, he called over the waiter to bring a clean small dish, then picked up a piece of fish with his fork and carefully began removing the bones.

At the same time, he spoke in a soft, soothing voice. "I know you're still angry, but mentioning divorce isn't a rational response. If we divorced, what would you do? How would you manage to live on your own?"

Rebecca's breathing became rapid and uneven.

For five years, in the eyes of everyone around her, she had been seen as nothing more than his appendage. If separated from him, she would become a pitiful, unwanted soul incapable of surviving independently.

And now, it was clear that he thought the same way.

"I can do it," she replied firmly.

For the first time, she stood her ground with determination, eager to prove her strength and fight for her dignity. Yet he merely smiled, as if dismissing her words as nothing more than a momentary fit of pique.

He placed the carefully deboned fish in front of her and said, "Eat up. I'll permit you to stay upset for a little while longer, but once the meal is over, you can't be angry anymore."

"I'm not angry. I want a divorce," she insisted, unsure how to make him see that her request wasn't just an impulsive outburst born from frustration.

"You see," he set down his fork, "today, I pushed back two meetings and a business discussion specifically to spend time with you and make you happy. Tomorrow and the day after, I might not have nearly as much availability. Let me repeat this. Catherine is a good friend to all of us. She's part of our crew. I treat her the same as I do Aiden and the others. She really likes you and has always wanted to become friends with you. With this attitude of yours, how am I supposed to introduce her to you properly?"

"Then there's no need to introduce her at all," Rebecca replied, not believing for a second that Catherine truly wanted to be friends with her.

Vance's voice sharpened. "Rebecca!"

She had known that, whenever the topic involved Catherine, his patience wore thin, and his temper wasn't as controlled.

"Eat up. Afterward, we'll go to the mall, buy whatever you like, and then head over to your parents' house for dinner. It's been quite a while since you've gone back to see them, hasn't it?" he said, adding more food to her plate.

Unwilling to deprive herself, she picked up her fork and began eating what she could.

Regardless of the situation, she needed to ensure she maintained her health first and foremost. There was no point in taking out her frustrations on her stomach.

"That's the right approach," Vance said, his voice returning to its gentle tone. "But from now on, don't bring up that word again."

She paused for a moment, then lowered her head and continued eating in silence.

After finishing the meal, she had no desire to go shopping, but Vance insisted on it, driving them directly to the mall without further discussion.

Over the course of their five-year marriage, the number of times Vance had accompanied her on a shopping trip could be counted on one hand. In fact, the occasions when they had appeared together in public at all were exceedingly rare.

The mall's lighting was intensely bright, even during the daytime, creating a glaring atmosphere that she found uncomfortable.

Clutching her purse, she walked cautiously in his shadow. The first floor was lined with counters displaying luxury bags, watches, and jewelry.

"Anything you like?" he asked, turning around.

She didn't want to buy anything at all. She just wanted to go home.

But before she could respond, someone called out from a distance, "Mr. Bradford!"

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