Monster Billionaire Husband, Let Me Go

Chapter 5: The Chains of Habit

After I gave him a quiet but firm "yes," Percy Sullivan said nothing.

The only sound in the room was the rain tapping softly against the windows, a fractured rhythm that matched the unease between us.

Then, out of nowhere, he asked, "After the divorce… will you still take care of me?"

I froze, caught off guard. Then I let out a bitter laugh.

"Percy, divorce means we go our separate ways. I won't be your wife anymore—let alone your caretaker."

The rain intensified, soaking one side of his shoulder through the open doorway.

He shook his head, stubborn as ever. "No divorce."

"Why not?" I asked, eyeing the tight grip of his fists, his knuckles turning bone white.

"No one else will take care of me."

"What about Emily Thompson?" I asked. "Isn't she the one you care about?"

"She can't," he muttered, frowning. "She's busy composing. Doesn't have time."

I stared down at my reflection in the puddle between us, distorted and murky. My chest felt heavy.

So that was it.

To him, Emily was the gifted artist—delicate, untouchable. And I? I was just convenient. An on-call nurse in a wedding ring.

"You can hire a nurse," I said quietly. "Nanny Lily takes good care of you, doesn't she?"

His fingers curled tighter, nails digging into his palms. The telltale signs of a meltdown.

I turned and started walking back toward the house.

He followed, close behind, repeating the same two words like a broken record:

"No divorce."

"No divorce."

"No divorce."

Finally, I stopped and spun around. "Why does it have to be me, Percy?"

His voice dropped to a whisper. "Habit."

I stared at him. "Habits can change," I said, gentler this time. "Just like how you didn't want me helping you in the beginning."

He snapped, voice sharp and rising. "No! You have to do what I say!"

I didn't respond.

He mistook my silence for surrender, and his tense shoulders finally dropped.

But the second we stepped inside, everything changed.

Emily was there—fresh-faced, radiant as ever. Percy's whole expression shifted, lit up like a boy seeing sunlight after days of rain.

He immediately pulled her into the study and shut the door behind them with a decisive click of the lock.

Soon, soft piano notes floated out. Then laughter—her laughter. Bright, airy, intimate.

The hours ticked by.

At ten, Emily finally reappeared, standing in the hallway with an innocent tilt of her head. The storm outside howled like it knew something I didn't.

Percy stopped her. "Stay."

"I didn't bring pajamas," she said sweetly, eyes wide.

Percy turned to me and pointed. "She has some."

Emily glanced at me and smiled. "Shouldn't we ask Mrs. Sullivan first?"

"She'll agree," Percy said quickly. "It's my house. I paid for everything in it—including the clothes."

Emily gave me a sugar-coated smile. "Then I guess I'll stay. Hope I'm not intruding on your married life?"

Percy cut in before I could speak. "We don't have one. That kind of thing…" His face twisted. "It's disgusting."

I looked down at my phone, pretending to scroll, my fingers frozen.

He was right.

This had never been my home.

It was time to go.