Husband Is Always Silent When We Argue

When I filed for divorce, Oscar Astor remained as indifferent as ever.

He turned his face away, his tone flat. "Do as you wish. You can keep Nora with you. I do not want her."

My heart felt like it had turned to ash. Just as I was about to sign my name, a stream of comments appeared before my eyes.

[Kathy, do not sign! He may look calm and unbothered, but inside, he is dying. Look, he cannot even bring himself to look at you.]

[He is giving up custody not because he does not care, but because he does not want to make you suffer. It has nothing to do with that woman.]

[My heart aches for Oscar. Just because he is naturally reserved, he is going to lose the woman he loves the most.]

My pen hesitated while writing.

Chapter 1

I snapped back to reality after reading those few lines.

Lifting my head, I studied Oscar. Under the dim yellow light, his sharp profile remained as distant as ever, as if divorce were nothing more than a trivial matter.

I couldn't find a single flaw, so I took the initiative to speak, "Don't you have anything to explain?"

Oscar turned away, rubbing his temples. "What more do you want from me?" He let out a long sigh, as though I were the one being unreasonable.

A dull ache spread in my chest. Forcing a weak smile, I was about to respond when his phone rang abruptly. The room was quiet enough for me to hear Carol's tearful voice clearly. "Oscar, Mila has a high fever. What should I do?"

This was the 33rd time.

Carol's excuses for calling him were always the same: something broke, her daughter was sick, or their house had been burglarized. My lips curled into a cold smirk, unsurprised to hear her excuse again.

Oscar said, "Kathy."

I turned my head to look at him.

At some point, Oscar had already ended the call. He stood there with his lips pressed together and stared at me. "There's nothing as dirty between us as you think."

With that, he slammed the door, leaving with a hint of restrained anger.

So that was his explanation? I lowered my gaze. How utterly unconvincing.

But the online comments didn't see it that way.

[Oh, Oscar must be heartbroken because Kathy doesn't trust him.]

[He only takes care of that woman out of gratitude. Can't Kathy be a little more understanding?]

[Great, now Kathy has pushed him further toward the other woman again.]

Frustration welled up in my chest, making it hard for me to breathe. I felt trapped, unable to move forward or back.

Carol Wilson was the daughter of Oscar's late mentor. Ever since her father passed away six months ago, she had returned to the country with her daughter, Mila. And from that point on, Oscar and I had been caught in an inexplicable cycle of cold wars.

Our five-year-old daughter, Nora Astor, had been affected by the tense atmosphere at home, waking up crying from nightmares night after night. I had read online that a couple's relationship directly impacts their children's mental health. So, I chose to take the first step toward reconciliation.

I brought a pot of soup to Osca...