THE EX-WIFE'S REGRET

Chapter 4

The grand hall was filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and the lively hum of conversation.

Chandeliers glittered overhead, casting golden hues over the lavishly decorated room.

A grand stage stood at the front, adorned with cascading floral arrangements and a massive backdrop that read: Happy Birthday, Isabelle!

The air was thick with the aroma of exotic dishes—from roasted duck to seafood platters and golden-crusted pastries.

Guests, dressed in their finest attire, indulged in expensive wine and champagne, reveling in the extravagance of the night.

At the far end of the hall, away from the dazzling spectacle, Arthur sat alone in a dimly lit corner.

His suit was old and slightly worn out and the fabric faded from years of use.

He knew better than to mingle with the guests, for Isabelle and her family never missed an opportunity to humiliate him, especially in public.

As he stared at the untouched glass of wine before him, he heard the sharp clatter of heels approaching.

Looking sideways, he saw Isabelle, her lips curled into a smirk, walking toward him with another woman by her side.

"Arthur," Isabelle's voice was dripping with mockery, "I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time."

Arthur straightened slightly, his brows furrowing.

"What do you mean?"

Isabelle chuckled, flipping her wavy hair over her shoulder.

"I decided to save this as the highlight of my birthday," she said, tilting her head dramatically.

"Nothing would make today more remarkable than finally divorcing you."

Arthur's chest tightened. His heart pounded like a drum in his ears.

Isabelle had finally decided to divorce Arthur. She was no longer willing to wait for Chris to propose before ending her marriage.

She was already fed up with Arthur, and leaving a low-life like him felt like a major accomplishment—especially on her birthday.

Divorce?

Before he could process the shock, the woman beside Isabelle stepped forward, holding out a set of documents.

Arthur didn’t need to ask what they were.

Divorce papers.

"You just need to sign here, Mr Evans," the woman said curtly, extending a pen toward him.

Arthur stared at Isabelle, his mind struggling to catch up.

She had never mentioned divorce before—not once in all their years together.

He had always known she despised him, but somewhere deep inside, he had still held on to the hope that things could change. That one day, she might see his worth.

Taking a deep breath, he met Isabelle’s gaze.

"I never expected this from you, Isabelle," he said quietly.

"I know we’ve had our differences, but at the very least, I thought you would remember the promise you made to your grandfather before he passed—that we would live in love and understanding till death separated us."

A scoff rang out from behind.

"That was an empty promise!" a voice interjected.

Arthur turned to see Annie, Isabelle’s younger sister, stepping forward with her arms crossed.

Her expression was filled with contempt.

"Over anyone’s dead body will you and my sister remain together till death," Annie sneered.

"You’re nothing but bad luck to Isabelle and our family!"

She leaned forward, her lips curling in amusement.

"What do you even want, Arthur? Do you want to continue being our slave? Because that’s all you’ve ever been—a useless servant in this house!"

Arthur clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palm.

"This is about Chris Williams, isn't it?" He asked with a smirk.

"And what if it is? Or do you think I would ever choose a scumbag like you over Chris?

Just sign the papers already," Isabelle said impatiently.

Before Arthur could respond, another woman approached the group.

Julie, one of Isabelle’s close friends, who had been searching for her, finally found her standing with Annie.

"Ah, Isabelle! There you are! What’s going on here?" Julie asked, noticing the tension.

"Oh, just getting rid of my biggest mistake," Isabelle said, rolling her eyes.

Arthur exhaled slowly.

"If I divorce you, Isabelle, I suppose it would be an achievement for me with the way things are. But I don’t want that—I still love you and believe we can make this work."

For a moment, there was silence. Then, suddenly—Laughter.

Loud, mocking laughter.

Isabelle, Annie, and Julie burst into hysterical fits, as if Arthur had just told the most ridiculous joke.

"You're a fool!" Annie cackled.

"Still hoping for love? Daydreaming, much?"

Arthur remained silent, his jaw tightening.

Isabelle’s laughter died down and her expression darkened with annoyance.

"Enough of this nonsense," she snapped.

"You’re delaying me, Arthur, and I hate delays."

Without warning, she grabbed the glass of wine from the table and poured it over his head.

Gasps filled the surrounding space as the cold liquid soaked into Arthur’s worn-out suit, dripping down his face.

The humiliation burned hotter than fire.

"Now, sign the papers!" Isabelle barked, her tone sharp.

"Don't ruin my birthday. I have important guests to entertain."

Arthur sat still for a moment, his fists trembling on his lap.

The red wine seeped into his clothes, staining him badly.

Slowly, he reached for the pen.

The moment he lifted the pen off the last page, Isabelle snatched the papers away with a triumphant smirk.

"Finally," she said.

"Now get out of my sight."

Arthur felt a strange sense of relief and pain at the same time.

He had loved Isabelle, but perhaps—perhaps this was the closure he needed.

Just as he was about to stand, an excited murmur rippled through the crowd.

Chris Williams had risen from his seat.

All eyes turned to him as he strode toward Isabelle with a small velvet box in hand, completely unaware that she and Arthur had just finalized their divorce.

The crowd erupted into whispers.

"He’s going to propose!" someone gasped.

Isabelle’s face lit up with excitement. She had waited months for this moment!

Chris stood before her, his charming smile never faltering.

"Isabelle," he said smoothly, "this night wouldn’t be complete without this."