Chapter 4The Butterfly Effect of My Divorce

The clock on the wall struck the hour, and I grabbed my bag and headed for the stairs.

As I brushed past Arthur, he grabbed my wrist, gripping it so hard the watch dug into my skin, causing a sharp pain.

"Chloe," Arthur's voice was hoarse. "Must you pretend to be strangers?"

I didn't struggle, looking into his eyes without a ripple of emotion: "Pretending to be strangers is the only courtesy I can extend to you."

He paused, released my hand, rubbed his thumb, and his emotions eased: "I know you still hate me."

Arthur just had this ability to hold onto control at all times, to never be embarrassed in any situation.

Just like when photos of him and Mia kissing went viral, he faced me with this exact same demeanor.

Only back then, I was hysterical, acting like a madwoman who had lost her reason in the face of her husband's calm attitude.

"You're overthinking it," I walked up a few steps, my tone distant. "With our current relationship, there is no hate to speak of."

Arthur seemed to want to say something more, but I didn't care and turned to walk upstairs.

The studio's decor was very personalized, post-modern style, spacious, and quiet.

The owner confirmed my tattoo design on the computer, and the assistant prepped my skin. I took off the watch on my right wrist.

The leather strap had a unique design, wrapping around three times.

Once removed, the pink, jagged scars on my wrist were exposed.

"The wrist is a very painful area," the owner said, unfazed. "Be mentally prepared."

I smiled: "It probably won't hurt as much as when I cut my wrist back then."