Sean felt agitated, glancing at the divorce settlement and the cards in his hand. He thought, "She's just throwing a tantrum! How dare she divorce me?"

"Are you being serious?" he asked through gritted teeth, restraining his anger.

Abigail raised an eyebrow. "Dead serious," she replied nonchalantly. "Sign this, and we'll finalize the procedures later."

Sean stared at his wife. They'd been married for three years, and Abigail had been a dutiful wife—well-behaved, obedient, kind to his family, and pleasing in every way. Now, she was a different person.

As he looked at her fair, lustrous face, now etched with impatience, and listened to her icy words, a knife twisted in his heart. He realized she truly wanted to leave him. He quickly averted his gaze, turning to walk into the living room. "No need," he said indifferently. "I'll see you at City Hall tomorrow at 9:00 AM."

Abigail had thought she was prepared, but now a searing pain pierced her heart, as if thousands of needles pricked her. Half her body felt numb. She barely registered leaving the house.

Back at her studio, she lay on the bed, only to feel her stomach churning. She rushed to the bathroom and vomited, but the pain worsened. She suffered from severe digestive problems, and the pain, forgotten since her last relapse, was excruciating. She hadn't brought her medicine. The walk from the bathroom to her bed left her drenched in cold sweat. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed her phone to call Luna.

Luna, asleep soundly, didn't hear her phone ring. Fearing she'd die of pain, Abigail hesitantly called Sean. He didn't answer the first call, but the second rang twice before Joan answered. A soft, waxy voice said, "Hello? Who is it?"

Sean was alone when Abigail left their apartment. Now, he was with Joan. "Damn it!" she thought. "I was insane to ask Sean for help!" Abigail remained silent.

Joan tentatively asked, "Is that you, Abigail? Are you looking for Sean?"

Abigail, unwilling to hear Joan's likely excuses (like Sean being in the shower), hung up. She curled onto the carpet, frowning, and blocked Sean's contact. Then, she lost consciousness.

"Abigail?"

Luna woke her the next morning, still in her pajamas. "Was it your digestive troubles?" she asked guiltily. "I'm so sorry. I slept through your call!"

Abigail was unconcerned. "What time is it?" she demanded.

"9:00 AM."

Abigail's mind raced. "Shit! I'm late!" she thought. "Sean and I were supposed to meet at City Hall at 9:00 AM for the divorce proceedings."

She grabbed her phone and frantically called Sean, knowing he hated lateness. The call was automatically disconnected. Had he blocked her?

With the same speed she’d blocked him, Abigail unblocked Sean and called again.

Once connected, she asked politely and distantly, "Are you still at City Hall? I'm on my way."

Sean's voice was sharp. "Are you saying I should wait for you for half an hour?"

Abigail, knowing she was wrong, didn't explain. While changing clothes, she apologized. "I'm so sorry. I'll hurry. Twenty minutes? Is that okay?"

Sean's voice was chilling. "Do you think my time is worthless?"