After the Eight Years of Love I Gave Up
Chapter 12

Book 2-

Chapter

2

Too lazy to say more, I simply hung up the phone.

The maid was already helping me pack my luggage.

"Madam, are you sure you don't want any of these?" the maid asked, looking at the wall full of luxury goods in the dressing room. Those were all bought by Louis specifically for me to attend banquets.

He had said:

"Eliza, I don't care what you were like before."

"Now that you've married into the Wood family, you must cover up your poor and unlucky aura well. Don't embarrass me."

I shook my head, my tone light:

"I don't want any of these luxury goods and dresses. Just help me pack up the rest of my things."

The maid looked troubled:

"Madam... apart from these, you don't seem to have much else to pack..."

I paused for a moment, then couldn't help but laugh.

Indeed, in the seven years I had been married to Louis, I had always owned very little.

In this huge villa, the space that truly belonged to me was no more than half a bed in the bedroom.

That night, Louis didn't come home, and I slept well.

The next day, I took my packed luggage and prepared to leave.

lleft nothing behind except for a crystal ball.

It was the only gift I had received from Louis during our courtship and marriage.

At that time, I had just come to New York for school and fell in love with Louis at first sight.

Back then, he was straightforward and passionate, waiting on my way back to school every day just to talk to me for a few minutes.

This crystal ball was also a gift he gave me at that time.

He said it was the first time he didn't use his family's money, working part-time for three days to buy this gift.

He said the snowflakes in the crystal ball would never melt, just like his love for me would never disappear.

His love, I don't want it anymore.

After leaving the Wood family home, I found a hotel to stay in.

Not even a day had passed before Louis called me.

"Eliza, where the hell did you go?"

"Hurry up and get back here to clean up your junk!"

I calmly replied:

"I don't want them anymore. Just throw them away."

Louis was stunned, repeatedly asking me: "Eliza, are you serious?"

"Yes," I said, my tone light, truly not caring anymore. "Throw them away. They're not important things anyway."

Louis, however, seemed to have been hit in a sore spot.

"Not important? Don't you know that was what I originally..."

I sneered, interrupting his words.

"What you originally earned from three days of part-time work?

This crystal ball only costs sixty-five dollars retail."

"Mr. Wood, what kind of part-time job only earns this little in three days?"

This was something I had heard from Louis's own mouth once when he was drunk after we were married.

He had said:

"I just picked a random crystal ball from the roadside and managed to trick you."

"Eliza, you're really so gullible and cheap."

It was then that I realized Louis hadn't changed; he had just stopped pretending.

After hanging up the phone, I went to the agreed-upon law firm.

The lawyer who received me asked about my situation and looked very troubled.

"Ms., you should be clear in your own heart that given the Wood family's status, it's almost impossible to divorce peacefully."

Of course, I knew this point, so I was willing to give up my rightful claims.

"What if I don't want any property? I can leave with nothing."

The lawyer's expression improved a lot, but he was still hesitant:

"Does Mr. Wood also want a divorce?"

I shook my head, my face pale.

This wasn't the first time I had wanted to leave Louis.

Five years ago, when I first proposed divorce, Louis said nothing and just locked me in the villa for a whole month.

A month later, I found out I was pregnant.

Three years ago, when I proposed divorce for the second time, Louis immediately returned to his family home.

Soon after, I was granted the right to see my child once a week.

In seven years of marriage, Louis always managed to accurately grasp my weaknesses, making it impossible for me to leave or escape. Today is the third time.

Perhaps out of sympathy, the lawyer still accepted my commission.

Taking the marriage certificate I handed over, his eyes widened.

"Ms., this marriage certificate... is fake."

"You and Mr. Wood aren't actually married."