Chapter 95 The Outburst
Quentin paid no mind to Wendy's arrival today. His thoughts were consumed with the prospect of a peaceful life with Lauren in the future. The most pressing matter before that was tomorrow's advertisement shoot, which needed to proceed without a hitch.
Having completed his work, Quentin arrived at Lauren's neighborhood as usual. He stood downstairs, peering up at Lauren's darkened room.
Quentin found it puzzling. He knew Lauren's daily routine well enough to be certain she wouldn't be resting at this hour, let alone be absent from home.
Using the spare key he had taken from Lauren's place earlier, Quentin let himself in. He spotted Lauren's backpack in the living room, suggesting she might be asleep.
Finally, Quentin approached Lauren's bedroom. Trying the handle, he found it locked from the inside, intensifying his curiosity.
"Lauren, are you in there? Are you resting?" Quentin inquired, knocking on the door.
It was then that Quentin began to feel uneasy. Earlier that morning, he and Lauren had agreed to discuss the advertisement shoot in the evening. She shouldn't have been ignoring him.
Quentin's only thought now was that something terrible might have happened to Lauren. "With her being pregnant, I dread to think of the consequences," he wondered aloud.
"Lauren, are you okay? I'm going to break the door down," Quentin shouted, preparing to force the door open.
Just as Quentin was about to act, the door suddenly swung open. Lauren emerged with swollen eyes.
"What's going on? It's not bedtime yet. Why did you lock the door?" Quentin demanded angrily. Lauren's increasingly stubborn behavior was beginning to worry him deeply, almost causing his heart to stop.
Lauren lifted her head slightly. Her once fair skin now seemed even paler. Her lips were unnervingly dry, her eyes swollen from crying.
"Quentin," Lauren took a deep breath, calling his name for what she knew would be the last time. "Let's get a divorce."
Those simple five words required all of Lauren's strength to utter.
Quentin was taken aback. Seeing the seriousness in Lauren's expression, he felt a mix of anger and heartache.
"A divorce? Do you really want to divorce me that badly?" Quentin asked coldly.
Quentin thought, 'The word divorce carries so much weight. Why could Lauren say it so easily every time? Is everything I've done for her so insignificant? I've treated her so well, so why could she suggest a divorce so easily?'
"Yes," Lauren stubbornly lifted her face, trying to appear calm.
Quentin gave a bitter smile. "Can you tell me why?"
He wasn't ready to give up. He believed they had been very happy lately, and everything was progressing according to his plans.
"After tomorrow's advertisement shoot, Lauren will officially become my wife. I've given her everything. Why isn't she happy?"
"Because I'm tired. I don't love you anymore. No, I should say I never loved you. The Quentin I loved was a figment of my imagination, and you're not him. You're not the Quentin in my heart," Lauren murmured.
The Quentin she loved was cold on the outside but warm within. The Quentin she loved was responsible. The Quentin she loved wouldn't use lies to conceal the truth.
Quentin's heart broke at Lauren's words. 'Does she not love me? Then what am I to her?'
When in love, people go to great lengths to attain it, but when it's gone, they claim it was never there. Quentin had never been toyed with like this before.
"Lauren, so you're just a love deceiver. I must have been blind to think you had any genuine feelings for me. It seems I was deluding myself," Quentin said with a bitter smile.
Lauren's face grew even paler, and she faintly smiled. "Yes, that's exactly who I am. Now that you see clearly, can you let me go? It's just a divorce. I believe plenty of women would line up to be Mrs. Robinson. By the way, isn't Wendy a perfect candidate? She's a big star and she's carrying your child. How wonderful!"
Lauren's words were too harsh. 'What does she take me for? A disposable gift?' Quentin thought bitterly.
"Lauren, don't take me for granted," Quentin said with disappointment.
"Fine, I'll set you free. Find a time, and we'll get divorced," Quentin said.
Quentin's heart raced as he spoke. He knew he couldn't bear to let Lauren go, and he didn't want to give up.
But seeing Lauren so heartbroken, he couldn't bear it either. He wondered if their marriage was so unhappy that she kept asking for a divorce.
Lauren's pale smile was accompanied by tears streaming down her face.
"Alright, thank you for letting me go. Let's do it tomorrow. Tomorrow morning at nine," Lauren said.
Quentin stood there, his spine stiff, and eventually left, feeling powerless.
Quentin thought, 'It was all just a dream. Both Lauren and my first love have abandoned me. Is it really my fault? This time, I put my heart into it, but the outcome is still so cruel.'
Never mind, as long as she's happy and truly wants freedom, he will accept it.
'Is it over?' Lauren wondered.
As Quentin closed the door, Lauren collapsed, sitting weakly on the cold floor.
The Quentin she had loved for two years had truly left her world this time.
Lauren recalled the past two days with Quentin. 'Damn it, she had gotten used to this life, to having Quentin around.'
From now on, without Quentin by her side, his domineering, his occasional tenderness, all would be gone.
She had to be strong. She had to be brave. She could live well on her own!
But why did her heart hurt so much? It felt as if someone was scraping her heart with a knife.
Was this what pain felt like?
But no matter how much it hurt, Lauren had no way out. She didn't want to live a life waiting at home for Quentin.
She didn't want to live in constant fear that another woman would come to her door with Quentin's child.
Lauren knew that love was selfish. She didn't want to share this love with any other woman.
'So, goodbye, Quentin. Goodbye to the life I've been waiting for, for two years. Goodbye to my innocence and ignorance. I'll start anew. I'll live well!' Lauren thought to herself.
Night fell, casting a dark veil over the entire city.
Some people preferred the night because its darkness could conceal many things, many unknown secrets.
At that moment, a black Ferrari sped along the overpass. Quentin held a cigarette in his left hand and steered with his right. His gaze was as sharp as a hunting eagle, but the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes betrayed his exhaustion.
