Chapter 1 Let's Get a Divorce

"I hate being away from you." A sweet, coquettish voice rang out. Catherine Quinn watched as the young woman stood on her tiptoes to kiss Harry Zimmerman's cheek. Harry held an umbrella for the woman as he walked her to her car. "Drive safe. Text me when you get home." Catherine stood frozen. Her eyes met Harry's as he happened to look up. She hadn't brought an umbrella and had been caught in the rain since getting off the bus. Seeing this play out made her heart ache. She said nothing and walked past Harry and toward the building. She knew Harry was having an affair, but seeing it with her own eyes was different. Catherine knew Harry loved someone else from the very beginning of their marriage. It was just that right before Harry planned to confess his feelings, the two of them ended up in bed together without warning. Everything had happened so suddenly. Then a group of people walked in on them, and both families pressured them into a rushed marriage. There was no ceremony, no rings. Just a piece of paper to prove their relationship, and nothing else. The weather in March was bitterly cold, especially when she was drenched. A gust of wind made her shiver and sneeze. "Why didn't you call me?" Harry's expression was unreadable. Catherine smiled indifferently. "It wasn't that far anyway." She wouldn't dare interrupt his little rendezvous. Catherine went inside to shower and warm up in the bathroom. She emerged wearing a bathrobe, and her wavy hair was still dripping. She then walked to the dressing table with a hairdryer in hand. Behind her, the faint scent of tobacco drifted closer. Her body stiffened slightly. Harry reached out and took the hairdryer from her, and his other hand settled on the small of her back. Catherine understood his intention perfectly. She lowered her eyes, turned, and pushed against him. "I'm not in the mood today." "Well, I am." Harry grabbed her arm, lifted her, and carried her into the bathroom. In the steam-filled room, Catherine's bathrobe quickly disappeared. The moment his scorching chest pressed against her, the heat made Catherine instinctively want to flee. But he gripped her chin, forcing her to look up and meet his kiss. His ragged breaths mixed with the sounds of their passion. Catherine's body trembled as his hands explored her intimately. He teased her until she went rigid. Harry lowered his head and took her into his mouth. His teeth grazed her most sensitive peak before applying pressure. Catherine let out a muffled groan. Her legs had weakened so much that she started to slide down. He knew her body too well, easily coaxing responses from her. His fingers explored lower, and since she was already reacting, it made it easier for him to delve deeper and tease her. Hearing Catherine's breathless moans, he chuckled softly near her ear. "So responsive. You react the moment I touch you." To Catherine, his words held cruel irony. She was completely exposed while Harry remained dressed, as if he could detach himself from this passion at any moment. It was like their entire relationship—only she was truly invested in the act. Before she could think clearly, Harry lifted her onto the bathroom counter. He unbuckled his belt with one hand, gripping her thigh to wrap her legs around his waist. Catherine looked down and saw that he was rigid with desire. He pressed his body against hers. She instinctively pushed against him. "Don't..." Harry seized her wrists, pinning them to the sides. With a sudden thrust, he buried himself fully inside her. Catherine gasped, and her nails dug into his shoulders. "Gently." Harry kissed her neck while supporting her, carrying her to another side of the bathroom. Her full weight pressed against him with each movement. Every step sent shockwaves through her body, and the intense pleasure nearly overwhelmed her. She was too breathless to speak, and she could only cling to his neck and whimper. Even if she was saying no, her body's need for him was undeniably honest. Harry pressed her against the wall, moving vigorously beneath her. He pushed his fingers into her mouth, watching Catherine's flushed face. "You said you didn't want it? Then, why are you gripping me so tightly?" "Look at this." He took Catherine's hand and made her touch where their bodies met. He showed her the evidence of their passion. Her face burned with shame. "Stop... stop talking..." Her tongue felt sore, and saliva trickled from the corner of her mouth. "I know you like this." Harry breathed heavily, and his movements were becoming even more forceful. Catherine bit his shoulder hard to stifle her cries. "Stop... please stop..." Not only did he not stop, but he also intensified his pace, driving into her dozens of times before finally reaching his release. Catherine felt the powerful surge of his climax, and her mind went blank. After a brief moment, Harry pulled Catherine close and took her again. His movements were relentless. All Catherine could do was hold on, passively enduring his demanding rhythm. She lost track of how long it lasted before Harry finally withdrew. She collapsed weakly onto the cold marble counter. Her eyes were vacant. Her inner thighs were flushed and trembling, bearing evidence of their encounter. Meanwhile, Harry didn't linger. He left as soon as they were finished. They were like strangers; even intimacy was merely physical release for him. In truth, when Catherine first slept with Harry two years ago, she had her own motives. She had loved him since childhood, and with their arranged engagement, she had always hoped to become his wife. But Harry's heart never held a place for her. This stolen marriage was never meant to last. As she watched Harry under the shower spray, she said softly, "Harry, let's get a divorce." The water stopped abruptly. The atmosphere in the bathroom instantly became suffocating.