Gold Digger vs Gold Saver My Man's Double Life novel Chapter 12

**Marriage Without Temperature by Mark Twain**

**Chapter 4**

Callum stood there, his expression frozen in disbelief, as though I had just uttered a phrase from an entirely different tongue.

“What did you just say?” he asked, his voice tinged with incredulity.

I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts, and repeated my statement. I enunciated each word deliberately, ensuring clarity, as if the weight of my words could somehow penetrate his stubbornness.

His expression darkened, shadows creeping across his features.

“Sloane, stop messing around. It’s just a pendant. I’ll replace it. You’re seriously threatening me with divorce over this?”

He still believed I was merely bluffing, a game of intimidation that I had no intention of playing.

Nearby, Ivy whimpered softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Mentor… my head really hurts. Can you take me to the hospital? I feel like I’m gonna pass out.”

Yet Callum’s attention was entirely consumed by me and the word that hung heavily in the air—divorce. With irritation etched on his face, he brusquely pushed Ivy aside.

“Wait. I need to talk to Sloane first.”

I interrupted him, my tone flat and unwavering.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Sloane, you—”

Before he could finish his thought, Ivy collapsed, her body going limp as she fell into his arms.

I offered him a cold smile, one that didn’t reach my eyes.

“Better get her to the hospital. Wouldn’t want her brain to get damaged.”

Callum’s expression morphed into a blend of fury and helplessness, leaving him with no option but to carry Ivy away.

I didn’t linger; I left the divorce papers lying on the table like a silent testament to my resolve and walked out with purpose.

By the time I arrived at the airport to meet my best friend, my phone buzzed incessantly with Callum’s calls.

[I know I’ve hurt you. But we’ve been together for so many years. We built this marriage together. You can’t just throw it away.]

My friend’s face brightened, a spark of admiration lighting up her eyes as she gave me a thumbs-up.

“I knew you wouldn’t let yourself get screwed over. I can’t wait to see them get what’s coming.”

That night, we indulged in drink after drink, our laughter mingling with the clinking of glasses as we shared stories and secrets until our voices grew hoarse. It felt cathartic, a release from the tension that had gripped me for far too long.

We stumbled home, utterly intoxicated, the world around us spinning in a delightful haze.

Back at the hospital, Callum was a picture of anxiety, checking his phone repeatedly as if willing my silence to break. Each moment of my absence deepened the frown on his face, unease gnawing at him like a persistent itch.

Ivy, lying in her hospital bed, sensed his distraction. Annoyed by his lack of attention, she adopted her softest, most pitiful tone.

“Mentor… your wife hit me so hard. Even with the meds, my head still hurts. Can you stay with me tonight?”

Normally, a little manipulation like this would have melted his heart.

But not this time. His response was cold, his annoyance palpable.

“If something’s wrong, call a nurse. I have more important things to deal with. I’ll check on you later.”

With that, he turned on his heel and left, leaving Ivy seething in frustration. She punched the bed in a fit of anger, the sound echoing in the sterile room.