We’ve been married for three years, but I’ve never truly had his love. When his childhood sweetheart returned, just as promised, all I was met with were the cold, glaring divorce papers.“If I were carrying our child, would you still choose to divorce?” I asked, holding onto the faintest glimmer of hope, making one last desperate plea.His response, as expected, was just as cold as ever. “Yes.”I closed my eyes, choking back tears, and finally chose to let go—to honor his decision.Years later, my heart had turned to ash. Lying in a hospital bed, I trembled as I signed the divorce papers. “Alexander, from this moment on, we owe each other nothing…”What I never saw coming was the ruthless, decisive CEO kneeling at my bedside, his voice hoarse, almost broken, as he pleaded, “Vivienne, don’t divorce me… please.”