Refusing To Divorce (Julia and Harry)

Julia could barely contain her frustration as she watched Lucia leave. Turning to Harry with a scornful look, she said, "Harry, what are you trying to pull? You know this marriage is nothing but a fake." Her words hinted she would never have a child with him. "It's not like I'm asking you to have my child," Harry responded coolly, his face expressionless. His eyes swept over her dismissively. "Besides, you're hardly my first choice for that. You could be standing here naked, and I wouldn't bat an eyelid. So, relax."

Julia felt a sting at his words. Her stunning figure was often admired, something that would turn heads on any runway, yet here was Harry, treating her as if she were nothing. "Well, good," Julia snapped back, her voice sharp. "Just remember, don't come crawling back to m Harry smirked. "Don't worry; there are plenty of women eager to have my child."

He was telling the truth. If Harry wanted a child, there were countless women lined up, eager to have his baby. They knew he was generous enough not to let the mother of his child go unrewarded.

you find someone else Julia retorted, "Fine, don't expect me to be one of them. Arya can't give you a child either. Why don't y to bear your child and then let Arya raise it? That seems like a perfect solution for everyone. I get my divorce, and you get your heir." Harry knew Julia had always wanted a divorce. If not for the pressures from both their families, she would never have agreed to marry him in the first place.

The atmosphere chilled as Harry remained silent. Julia realized her earlier comments might have been too harsh. She parted her lips, searching for words to soften the mood, but nothing came.

In Julia's view, Harry was impervious to her barbs; his resolve was too strong for her words to make a dent. It seemed wiser for her to hold her tongue than to risk further missteps.

"Do you really want a divorce from me?" Harry's intense gaze fixed on Julia. Despite his allure-handsome, wealthy, and irresistibly charming, a dream for many-he failed to evoke any warmth in Julia after three years of marriage.

"Being married to me, becoming Mrs. Wright, should be considered a blessing," Harry began, his voice laced with arrogance,

Julia cut him off sharply. "I've met narcissists before, but you take self-absorption to a new level. Do you honestly believe every woman falls at your feet? Sorry, but you're not my type."

To Julia, her marriage to Harry was nothing more than a transaction. If it weren't for him, she might have found her true love, perhaps already living a joyful life with a child, rather than navigating scandals and maintaining facades. "Harry, you have your reasons, and I respect that. But next time, if it concerns me, please discuss it with me first instead of springing it on me like this."

Harry's approach was authoritarian, often making decisions unilaterally, without regard for others' opinions or feelings.

"I'm exhausted, and I don't expect you to stay here tonight. Please leave within the next half hour to avoid bumping into Lucia. I'm tired of covering for you," Julia said, her voice weary. She was slightly unwell with a cold, but the lack of rest had taken its toll, leaving her visi Harry watched Julia's retreating figure, her posture rigid with the stubborn resolve that he knew all too well. Once Julia decided on something, there was no changing her mind-a trait that was both her strength and her downfall.

Turning away, Harry caught sight of a servant. His voice was icy as he commanded, "I'm staying tonight. Please bring a cup of warm milk to Julia's room."

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The house, a wedding gift from Lucia, was seldom Harry's choice of residence. He preferred an apartment close to his office, only using the house during Lucia's visits. Despite his infrequent stays, his essentials were always ready in his room, conveniently located next to As he paused at his bedroom door, light spilled from beneath Julia's door, reminding him of her fierce independence. The servant's voice brought him back from his reverie. He glanced at the warm milk and retreated into his room.

Out on the balcony with a lit cigarette, Harry savored the cool night air. His balcony adjoined Julia's, separated only by the glass sliding door she insisted on for privacy.

The chilly night breeze had a sobering effect.

Harry found his gaze drifting to Julia's balcony more often than he'd like to admit. Thoughts of her persisted, even in Arya's company. Arya's gentle nature only highlighted Julia's boldness in his mind-

her resilience, even when ill, contrasted sharply with Arya's openness about her vulnerabilities.

Harry puzzled over why he was drawing comparisons between Julia and Arya. Lost in thought about Julia, he was startled by the sudden ring that pierced the room's silence.

Harry snuffed out his cigarette just as his phone began to ring. He knew it was Arya; she was the only one with that ringtone.

"Harry, are you still busy?" Arya's voice was soft.

Lying back on the sofa, Harry glanced at the clock. "It's late, Arya. Shouldn't you be asleep by now?"

"I was hoping you'd come home tonight," Arya replied, her voice hopeful.

"I'm staying at the office tonight. You should get some sleep," Harry responded, his tone final.

"But why..." Before Arya could finish, Harry cut the call short as a knock sounded at the door. He rose and headed to answer it, his mood surprisingly light.

Julia stood in the doorway, clad in pajamas. "Why haven't you left yet?" she asked, her tone direct.

Harry frowned, puzzled by her concern. "Why does it matter to you if I stay or go? Even if our marriage is just for show, you can't just throw me out."

"I'm just wondering why you're still here, especially with Arya back in town. Why linger around me?" Julia's eyes narrowed slightly, then she remembered the earlier gesture. "You even sent over warm milk. What's that about, Harry? Are you trying to make amends or something?" Julia replied, her curiosity evident.