For two years, you were his wife. You cooked, cleaned, smiled, and loved him. You massaged his shoulders after long days of work. You were always there for him.

But he never noticed. Never thanked you. Never said “I love you.”

One day, he said, flat and cold, “I need to marry someone else.”

You didn’t argue. You didn’t fight. You already knew this would happen. You smiled faintly. “Let’s get a divorce then.”

You left while he was busy with work. The house was empty when he got home. No warm greeting. No dinner on the table. No gentle touch on his shoulders. Just silence.

At first, he thought you’d come back. But you never did.

Now, the richest lawyer in the country couldn’t find his own wife. Every day, your lawyer came to him, asking him to sign the divorce papers.

Every day, he looked at them and couldn’t.

You had given him silence where he had given you pain. You had disappeared, and it was destroying him.