Chapter 1067

Barrett ignored Viola, staggering to his feet and stumbling up the stone steps to the door. Inside, it was pitch black. He fumbled for a matchstick, finally lighting a lamp. The tiny, flickering flame cast dancing shadows across the room in Blessed Haven.

The place was bare. The simple furniture offered no comfort. The only valuables were the ironwood-reinforced doors and windows. He sat dazed as Viola continued her tirade outside. She yelled for a while, but Barrett remained unresponsive.

Finally, Viola snapped, "If you're still dwelling on the past, there's no point in wasting time. Let's get a divorce."

The word "divorce" jolted Barrett from his suffocating memories. He looked up, but the dim light failed to reach his shadowed eyes.

"Divorce?" he repeated.

"Yes!" Viola shouted, throwing her umbrella and lamp aside as she stormed into the room, drenched from the rain. Her face contorted with anger. "I've already been divorced once! I don't care about a second. Barrett, you don't care about me, and I don't care about you. Thomas hasn't remarried, and he's my true husband. I'll go to him."

Barrett was stunned. "Thomas?"

"He's a thousand times better than you!" Viola snapped. "I was always meant to be his wife. He died on the battlefield, and that's why we missed our chance. But now that he's alive, I can go to him."

Slowly, Barrett's mind cleared. He should have been angry, but he wasn't. He even found himself mocking her.

"Thomas doesn't want you anymore."

Viola winced. Without thinking, she blurted, "Then I'll go to Silas!"

"Silas?" Barrett didn't know who she meant, yet the name felt familiar. "Who's he?"

Viola froze, recalling that reckless time. A wave of nostalgia washed over her. She had never truly cared for Silas, but looking back, she realized he had offered warmth when she needed it most.

"Who's Silas?" Barrett asked again, his heart devoid of jealousy, envy, or anger. He felt nothing. He thought, if such a man existed, he should let her go. Men like him didn't deserve a wife.

"It was just a random name," Viola snapped defensively, slumping into a chair, subtly hiding her unease. "I just want to make it clear that I don't need you. I'm your primary wife, but you never showed me even basic respect! You're a worthless failure. What right do you have to berate me?"

Barrett listened silently, his heart growing heavier with each insult. He had long believed himself worthless, and Viola's aristocratic background only reinforced her disdain.

"If you want to leave for this man, go," he said flatly. "I agree to the divorce."

Viola had only intended to vent, hoping he would beg her to stay. His agreement stunned her. He actually agreed!

Years of hurt and humiliation surged to the surface. What had she gained from marrying into the Warren family? Only constant insults and neglect. Even the simplest marital respect had been denied.

She wailed, collapsing onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Barrett offered no comfort.

Her rage flared. "Fine! If you're agreeing to the divorce, then let's do it!"

Barrett stood, gently helping her into a chair. His tone was serious. "Alright. Take whatever you want from the estate. I won't stop you. I won't touch your dowry. But Aurora's three thousand silver coins—those are not to be taken."

Viola was incredulous. "You really want a divorce?"

"If that's what you want, I respect your decision," Barrett replied, guilt evident in his eyes. "Viola, I'm sorry. I've let you and so many others down. I don't want to burden you anymore. Let's part ways cleanly. There's nothing left here for you. From now on, we'll go our separate ways. I pray you find a better husband."

At that moment, a crushing despair overwhelmed Viola. Did she really want the divorce? No. She had only been pushing Barrett to appreciate her, to force him to cherish her.

Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, everything went black. She fainted.