Divorced Overnight The CEO Who Chose Her Intern Too Late

I listened quietly to Cicely's accusations, showing no reaction. But my eyes drifted unconsciously to her pale neck. There, faint red marks lingered. Noticing my stare, Cicely froze for a moment, then tugged her collar up to cover them. Her tone stayed sharp. "That slap was a lesson. Don't let it happen again. Harry's young—act your age." I nodded without arguing. "Got it. I'm tired. Going to bed." I stood and walked into the bedroom. Behind me, Cicely let out a cold hmph. I lay down and closed my eyes, but my thoughts wouldn't settle. "It was an accident—he just stepped on your hearing aid." Cicely thought I was being petty. But that hearing aid was a gift she'd given me when we first got together. I'd treasured it, protected it carefully all these years. It was a little worn now, sure, but it still worked perfectly. Back then, she'd smiled as she placed it in my ear. In that instant, the world came into focus. I heard her voice, bright and clear: "Morton, I like you!" The most beautiful sound I'd ever heard. But after Harry crushed it, Cicely brushed it off with a single sentence. She seemed to have forgotten what that hearing aid meant to me. Out in the living room, I could hear her laughing, sending voice messages to someone. Harry sent me another text—a screenshot of his chat with Cicely. They were deep in conversation. She'd sent him a sweet "goodnight." [Hey Morton, you and Cicely should get some rest too! I won't keep you up.] Every word dripped with mockery. I closed my eyes and stopped looking. After Cicely finished washing up, she went into the other bedroom. Ever since Harry joined the company and she'd gotten close to him, she refused to share a bed with me. Whatever love I'd felt for her... it seemed to be fading. The next morning, I wrote my resignation letter. Then I went to the best law firm in the city and asked Attorney Megan Carter to draft a divorce agreement. Only after that did I head to the office to finish my work. Cicely was at Harry's desk, their heads nearly touching as they whispered about something. Strange—watching them now, I felt nothing. Harry spotted me first and called out. "Morton! You're late today. You look terrible—rough night?" His eyes gleamed with smugness as he leaned closer to Cicely. Before I could respond, Cicely frowned at me. "Just because you've been here longer doesn't mean you can ignore the rules. Keep this up and you won't last." I smiled faintly, looking at them both. "I'll be more careful. Thank you for the reminder, Ms. Swanson." Her expression darkened instantly. I rarely called her that. But now, I kept things polite. Distant. Without another word, I sat down at my desk and buried myself in work. My part of the project was nearly done. Even if I was leaving, I intended to finish what I'd started. At lunch, I headed downstairs. Cicely's car was parked out front. Harry climbed happily into the passenger seat. When he saw me passing by, he called out. "Morton! We're going to an Italian place—come with us!" He made no move to give up his seat. I shook my head with a small smile. "Italian's not really my thing. You two go ahead." I walked away without looking back. Cicely's voice drifted faintly behind me. "He's been so moody lately. Just ignore him—let's go eat." I let out a quiet breath and pushed them from my mind. While eating, I scrolled through my phone. Harry had posted something new. [My boss found out I smoke and got me a designer lighter! Best boss ever—I'm working for her forever!] I raised an eyebrow at the photo. A sleek lighter sat on the table. Italian food in the background. And in the corner of the frame—Cicely's slender fingers. Back when Cicely and I first got together, I used to smoke when I was stressed. She'd always pluck the cigarette from my fingers and take a drag herself, coughing until her eyes watered. I'd quickly stub it out and pat her back. Through teary eyes, she'd pout at me, half-playful, half-annoyed. "Morton, I hate the smell of smoke! If I catch you again, I'll smoke it myself just to make you feel bad!" She'd ball up her little fist, looking so cute I couldn't help but laugh. After that, I quit. But once Harry came along and Cicely grew distant, I'd started reaching for cigarettes again. Whenever she saw me smoking now, she'd wrinkle her nose in disgust and tell me to put it out. She hated the smell. Yet here she was, buying a lighter for Harry. I shook my head and put my phone away. A dull ache settled in my chest. When I got home after work, I found a suit had been delivered—one Cicely had ordered for me. She loved dressing herself up, and she loved dressing me up too. Since we got married, she'd picked out all my clothes. Whenever I put on something new, her eyes would light up. She'd circle around me, telling me I had the perfect build, that I was a natural clothes hanger. Then she'd flutter into my arms like a butterfly and kiss my cheek. Cicely said I looked best in suits, so she'd set up a standing order at a high-end menswear boutique—new pieces every season, delivered straight to our door. Thinking about it stirred something in me. I tried on the suit—and froze. It didn't fit. Cicely knew my measurements by heart. And after all these orders, the shop shouldn't have made a mistake. I put the suit back in the bag and drove to the boutique. I didn't expect to find Cicely and Harry there. "Harry, you look amazing in that! I set up an account for you here—come whenever you want. It's all on me." Cicely's delighted voice rang out. I turned to look.

Harry stood tall in a suit from this season's new collection. Cicely, cheeks flushed, was nestled against his chest. They smiled at each other, the air between them thick with intimacy. "Mr. Dickerson, what brings you here..." A sales clerk recognized me, her voice cutting through the moment. It wasn't loud, but it was enough. Cicely and Harry both heard. They pulled apart quickly, turning to look at me. Anger flashed across Cicely's face. She strode toward me, her voice sharp. "Morton, what are you doing here? Were you following me? How pathetic can you be?" I looked at her calmly, then at Harry standing behind her. Harry's height. His waist and shoulder measurements... I let out a quiet laugh. So that's what happened. They'd mixed up my measurements with Harry's. No wonder the suit I'd picked up didn't fit. "I wasn't following anyone. The suit you ordered came in, but it's not my size. I'm here to return it." I held up the garment bag and waved it in front of her. "I'll leave it here. I have other things to do, so I'll get out of your way." I turned to leave. Cicely's face twisted through a dozen emotions. Her beautiful eyes burned with anger. "Morton, don't push it! There's nothing going on between me and Harry. Don't project your dirty thoughts onto us!" I shrugged with a faint smile. "I wasn't thinking anything. No need to get upset." With that, I walked out. I realized I might actually be making progress. Seeing Cicely and Harry together like that—it didn't hurt as much as it used to. That night, after Cicely came home and showered, she did something she hadn't done in a long time. She walked into my room. She wore a thin nightgown that traced every curve of her body. Her dark, wavy hair spilled over her shoulders, and she smelled like the perfume I loved. She climbed onto the bed and wrapped her arms around me from behind. "Morton... don't misunderstand what happened these past few days. There's really nothing between me and Harry. He's just talented at work, and I want to nurture that potential. I know I've been neglecting you lately. It's been so long since we... Morton, turn around. Hold me." Her voice was soft, almost sweet. I felt my resolve waver. Her hand moved over me. The truth was, I still loved her. That hadn't changed. During those long, gray years when my hearing loss isolated me from the world, she had been the only light. She gave me warmth. She gave me love. The decade we'd spent together meant everything to me. I didn't want to hold back anymore. I turned and pulled her close, kissing her with a hunger I'd kept buried. She let me, accepting the flood of emotion. I reached for my hearing aid, ready to take it off so we could go further. Then her phone rang. A cold feeling settled in my chest. She answered. A few brief words, and then she shoved me away, sitting up in a panic. "Morton, Harry has a fever. He's really not feeling well. I need to go check on him!" She slipped on her shoes and rushed out without a second glance. The door opened and closed. Silence returned. I sat alone on the bed, feeling the last traces of her presence fade from the air. My phone buzzed. A message from Harry. [Hey Morton, I'm feeling a bit under the weather. Asked Cicely to come check on me. Don't be mad, okay!] I stared at the screen, expressionless. Then I laughed. No sound came out. Harry had won.

Cicely didn't come home until the next morning. She offered an apologetic explanation, but I just nodded, not really taking it to heart. I packed up all my belongings and booked a flight for the next day to the city where Samuel was based. Then I went to the office to wrap up the final details of my project and submitted my resignation. I took a cab to the cemetery and sat quietly by my grandmother's grave for the entire afternoon. I was about to leave this city, yet my heart felt strangely calm—not a trace of reluctance. Maybe I'd been hurt enough that I'd gone numb. I leaned against the headstone, talking to Grandma about nothing in particular, watching the clouds drift and reshape themselves overhead. I didn't head home until the sky had gone completely dark. When I opened the door, the house was unexpectedly lively. Balloons everywhere. Flowers and gift boxes scattered around. A banner on the wall read "Happy Birthday." I stood there, confused. "Morton! You're back!" Harry appeared with a grin. "It's my birthday today. Cicely said the house was big enough to throw a party here!" He smiled at me, but his eyes slid toward the dining table. I followed his gaze. The table was covered with dishes. "Cicely said she wanted to show off her cooking skills for me. She made all of this herself. She's so beautiful and kind—I really envy you!" His words dripped with self-satisfaction, barely concealing how pleased he was that Cicely had gone to all this trouble for him. I forced a thin smile, completely uninterested in his games, and turned to head to my room. Then my eyes caught something in the corner, and I froze. Harry noticed my reaction and laughed right in my ear, not bothering to hide his amusement. "Oh, that? I accidentally knocked it over while we were decorating. Cicely said it was no big deal—she'd just sweep it up and throw it away later. Sorry, Morton, I'm so clumsy. Don't hold it against me, okay?" On the floor lay my grandmother's portrait—the one I'd carefully framed myself. Now it was shattered into pieces. And on her smiling face in the photograph, there were unmistakable black footprints. The carelessness in his voice made my blood boil. I couldn't hold back anymore. I spun around and slammed my fist into his face. My mind went blank. Pure rage took over. A faint smirk flickered at the corner of Harry's mouth before he started yelling. My fists rained down on him. He let out heavy grunts with each blow. "Morton! What are you doing? Stop it!" Cicely rushed out of the kitchen, screaming. She slapped me hard across the face and shoved me away, then helped Harry to his feet. My eyes were red as I stared at the two of them. "It's just a photo! Why are you making such a big deal out of it? Look what you did to Harry! You're deaf, so what—you can't stand seeing healthy people? What the hell is wrong with you?" Cicely screamed at me, then helped Harry limp out the door. My nose stung. A sharp pain twisted through my chest. With trembling hands, I carefully gathered the pieces of my grandmother's portrait. I wiped the dirty marks off with my sleeve and placed it gently in my suitcase. Cicely didn't come home that night. I didn't sleep either. Before I left, I took one last look around the house. I set the divorce papers on the table, grabbed my suitcase, and walked out without looking back. From now on, I would never stand in the way of Cicely and Harry again.