The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 1352

She stared blankly at Gian, feeling as though she was looking at a total stranger.

She had come here to save him, to tell his parents that the fake marriage was all her idea, that she had forced him into it.

She had even prepared herself to stand stubbornly by his side and face the full brunt of his parents' fury together.

Yet, right in front of them, he had said something so devastating.

He had already signed the divorce papers.

He had been planning this all along.

When she had casually suggested they find time to divorce, he had actually taken it to heart.

He was that desperate to wash his hands of her.

Kirsten's lips parted to speak, but her throat felt completely blocked. Not a single sound came out.

Looking at his indifferent expression, a bitter, agonizing cocktail of emotions surged through her chest.

It was true—she was the one who had brought up the divorce.

She had felt like a burden, utterly unworthy of him, convinced that divorcing her was the only way to free him from this mess.

Now that he was granting her wish and signing the papers, what right did she have to complain?

Kirsten's shoulders slumped in defeat.

The light vanished from her eyes, leaving them as hollow as burnt-out embers.

She finally understood. He said those words to tell her to back off.

He was telling her that whatever they had was over.

He was making it crystal clear that Atwood family affairs were none of her business.

A suffocating silence fell over the room once again.

Mr. Atwood and Gian's mom watched the exchange, a look of profound satisfaction settling on their faces.

Gian's mom scoffed, her tone laced with mockery. "Did you hear that, Ms. Delaney? Gian has already signed. Stop humiliating yourself."

"Sign the papers, take whatever severance you're owed, and leave my son alone."

Kirsten completely ignored her.

She kept her eyes glued to Gian, the last bit of hope draining from her face, leaving behind an agonizing emptiness.

Her fingers trembled as she tightened her grip on her purse, her knuckles turning bone-white.

After what felt like an eternity, she slowly lowered her head. When she spoke, her voice was as light as a breeze, drenched in self-deprecating sorrow. "Okay."

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