Chapter 2 I Want the Box

Ingrid couldn't ignore the weight of guilt pressing down on her as she faced him. She took a slow breath and said, "You wanted to see me?" "Was it your idea? The divorce?" Alexei asked, his tone steady, but his eyes burned with intensity. "It was," Ingrid admitted, keeping her voice firm even as her stomach twisted. "Why?" Alexei asked, softer now, like he was grasping at some shred of hope. Her throat felt tight, but she forced the words out. "Because I don't love you anymore. Staying in this marriage... it's just painful for both of us." She folded her hands in her lap, trying to steady herself. "I know you've sacrificed a lot, and that's why I made sure the divorce agreement is fair. More than fair." Alexei let out a dry, bitter laugh. "Fair? That's what you think this is? Three years of marriage boiled down to a paycheck? You really think feelings can be compensated with money?" Ingrid flinched at his words, her chest tightening. She thought about those three years. Alexei had given her everything; his time, his support, his loyalty. He had stood by her no matter what. If it weren't for his lack of status, he would be perfect in every other way. But that was the problem. For the sake of her ambitions, Ingrid had made her choice. "You need to be realistic," she said, her tone turning cold to mask her unease. "Clinging to this marriage won't change anything. You can't hold onto me like this." Alexei looked at her. Then, suddenly, he gave a bitter, hollow smile. "Fine. You want a divorce? You've got it." "Wait, what?" Ingrid was caught off guard. After all, she was the one at fault, so she'd braced herself for him to lash out. Even if Alexei decided to make things messy, she was ready to deal with it. But to her surprise, he agreed without a fight. Ingrid hesitated, guilt creeping in again. "If there's something else you need, anything, you can have it. Just say the word." "I don't want your money," Alexei said, shaking his head. "Not a single cent." "That's ridiculous," Ingrid snapped. "How are you supposed to live without it? Take the money. No one is going to think less of you." Alexei's eyes hardened. "How I live isn't your problem anymore." He leaned forward, his voice dropping. "But there's one thing I do want." "See? His true colors are finally showing," Frida huffed from the side. "Ingrid, he's obviously scheming to bleed you dry." She folded her arms, confident in her ability to spot anyone's hidden agenda, especially a man's. "Shut up," Alexei growled, his glare sharp and unforgiving. Frida froze for a moment, startled by the intensity in his eyes, but quickly masked it with a reluctant scowl. "What do you want, Alexei?" Ingrid asked, her voice calm but tinged with curiosity. "I want the box I brought with me when we got married," Alexei answered. "The box?" Ingrid furrowed her brows, searching her memory. Then it clicked—when they got married, Alexei had indeed brought an old box. Eric Miller, her younger brother, had even mocked him for it, calling him outdated, like he'd stepped out of another century. "That's yours," Ingrid said after a moment. "You have every right to take it." "Good. That's all I want," Alexei replied, snuffing out his cigarette in the ashtray. The room fell into an uneasy silence. After a pause, Ingrid spoke again, her voice softer. "Alexei, I know this hasn't been fair to you. I know you've given so much. But I had my reasons. I hope you can understand." "I understand," Alexei said simply, his face unreadable. He picked up the pen and signed his name on the divorce agreement without hesitation. Ingrid exhaled, feeling a mix of relief and emptiness settle in her chest. It was over. Their marriage had come to an end. It wasn't fair to him, but it was the best decision for the Miller family's future. "If you ever regret this, you can always reach out," she said, her voice steady. "The terms I've offered will still stand." With that, she turned and walked away, her heels echoing in the quiet room. Alexei watched her retreating figure, her grace unwavering, and managed a bitter smile. After this, he doubted they would ever see each other again. With a heavy heart, he stood and began heading for the stairs. "Where do you think you're going?" Frida stepped in front of him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Going upstairs to grab my stuff. What else would I be doing?" Alexei said, barely glancing at Frida as he headed toward the stairs. Frida paused for a second, then pulled out her phone and moved to the corner of the room. "Mrs. Miller, the divorce papers are signed," she said, her voice low but filled with excitement. At that moment, in a chic apartment in Oleans End, Hilda Miller's reaction was immediate. "What? Are you serious? That idiot really signed it?" she exclaimed, standing up abruptly, her beauty mask dropping. Her son Eric, who had been lounging nearby, sat up straight, his attention fully on the conversation. "It's true," Frida confirmed with a smug smile. "I talked him into it, and he signed it right in front of Ingrid."