The Last Time I Let You Go

I married the same man seven times.

And he divorced me seven times for the woman he truly loved.

When we first got married, he told me, “I’ll love you—only you—for the rest of my life.”

But every time that woman returned to the country, he became a different person.

“Can’t you be more understanding? Do you really have to make Ava look like some homewrecker?”

The first time we divorced, I slit my wrists, trying to make him stay.

The ambulance rushed me to the hospital.

But he never came to see me—not even once.

After the second divorce, I stooped so low as to apply to be his assistant.

I just wanted to catch glimpses of him now and then.

By the sixth divorce, I’d become accustomed to packing up and moving out of our home on my own.

My hysterics, my begging, my compromises—all fed into the same cruel cycle.

He’d marry me again.

Then he would leave the moment she returned.

This time, I decided to end it all.

When I found out she was coming back, I handed him the divorce papers myself.

As usual, he set a date for our next remarriage.

He did not know I was leaving for good.

“Ava is back. Let’s get a divorce.”

I handed the signed divorce agreement to my husband, Liam Miller, with a blank face.

He was clearly caught off guard for a second.

But he quickly regained his composure.

He signed the papers with practiced ease.

It was the first time I had been the one to bring up the divorce.

Just like the previous six times, he promised, “We’ll remarry after she leaves in a month.”

The old me would have made him swear a solemn oath.

Or I would have demanded he put it in writing.

His word alone wasn’t enough to make me feel secure.

But this time, I felt nothing.

I didn’t even want to respond.

“Sophia, I’m talking to you.”

Liam frowned.

He was clearly unhappy with my silence.

I nodded. “OK.”

As I spoke, I kept folding clothes.

I placed them into my suitcase.

Since Liam promised we’d remarry in a month, he would keep his word.

One thing was certain.

He had a well-known reputation in the business world for honoring his promises.

To be honest, we weren’t exactly like husband and wife.

We were more like business partners.

We endlessly renewed and ended agreements.

Marriage certificates, then divorce papers.

It was always within a set timeframe.

We had two contracts a year.

By now, I had signed twelve of them.

I still remembered what Liam told me at our first wedding.

“I won’t betray you while we’re married.”

And he never did.

After all, whenever he wanted to be with that woman, he simply asked for a divorce.

The cost was that I became the laughingstock of our social circle.

I was the woman who would do anything to keep him.

I was only to be discarded once I was no longer useful.

I wasn’t like myself today.

This seemed to unsettle Liam.

He still vividly remembered how hysterical I had been during our previous divorces.

He remembered how I’d even hurt myself.

Watching me pack more quickly and skillfully than the last time, he said stiffly, “How about I move out this time—”

I snapped my oversized suitcase shut, cutting him off.

“I’ve already talked to Emma. I’ll stay at her place for a few days.”

Liam’s expression darkened.

It was as if he’d just remembered something.

“Don’t tell me you’re playing hard to get again.

You're planning to pose as my assistant and wait for me in the office.

“Sophia, give me a break.

Can’t you find something else to do?

Stop acting so pathetic.

Stop acting like you can’t live without me.”

I understood exactly what he meant.

He didn’t want me showing up at the office.

He didn't want me interrupting his time with Ava Clark.

She rarely came back, after all.

Of course, he wanted her by his side as his assistant around the clock.

After the second divorce, I applied to be Liam’s assistant.

I got the job.

One day, I was holding his favorite latte.

I pushed open his office door eagerly.

Yet what came into my view was him passionately kissing Ava on his lap.