Divorcing the Blind Billionaire

On their wedding anniversary, Charlotte Blake was organizing George Summers' suit when she found a black stocking in the pocket.

Charlotte rarely wore stockings. This one was designed to be sexy yet tacky—clearly not hers.

She held the stocking between her fingers, which felt ice-cold.

The door suddenly opened at the entrance, and a woman’s soft, flirtatious laughter followed. "George, you're bringing me home? Won't Charlotte be upset?"

Charlotte looked up just in time to see George walking in with his arm around a woman.

The moment she saw the woman, her heart involuntarily tightened.

She knew this woman—it was George's first love, Jennifer Walsh.

George had one arm around Jennifer's waist and was carrying a small suitcase with his other hand.

George frowned slightly at the sight of her but said nothing, continuing into the living room with Jennifer still in his arms. Charlotte spoke up in a cold tone. "What's the meaning of this?"

Before George could speak, Jennifer jumped in. "Charlotte, don't misunderstand. My mother just passed away, and I'm scared to live alone. George was worried, so he asked me to stay for a few days."

When she saw the stocking in Charlotte's hand, she shyly leaned into George's embrace, her cheeks flushing. "Isn't that the stocking I changed out of last time when my skirt got torn? How did it end up with you?"

Her tone carried a teasing, suggestive edge as she looked at George standing silently beside Jennifer, her voice trembling slightly. “Aren’t you going to explain yourself?”

Though she had mentally prepared herself, she still wanted to know George's attitude.

"What's there to explain?" George said flatly, looking at her with eyes full of weariness. "Don't put on that act like you're my wife interrogating me. If you hadn't schemed your way into my grandmother's good graces back then, do you think I would have married you?"

Charlotte froze in place, her hands involuntarily clenching, her knuckles turning white.

What did it matter that she held the title of Mrs. Summers? George didn't love her at all—he even resented her.

"Charlotte, don't get the wrong idea, there’s nothing going on between George and me,” Jennifer said quickly, even as her hand stayed linked through his arm.

George frowned slightly, looking somewhat impatient. "Don't mind her. Your mother just passed away. Isn't it right that I'm here for you?"

Jennifer and George had been childhood sweethearts. Jennifer's mother had been very good to George. If it weren't for Charlotte's appearance, Jennifer and George probably would have had children by now.

"Yes, your first love is so important to you. Her mother died, so you dropped everything to be with her. When my father died, you didn't even attend the funeral."

As Charlotte said this, even she felt the pain.

Two years earlier, after her father died, George had claimed he was too busy with work, sending only condolence gifts through someone else without showing up for the funeral himself.

Charlotte's mother, Margaret Blake, had complained quite a bit at the time, but Charlotte had defended him.

Looking at George's attitude toward Jennifer now, it was truly ironic.

Before George could speak, Jennifer rushed to say, "Charlotte, it's all my fault. I couldn't accept my mother's death for a moment, and George has been staying by my side to take care of me. Please don't blame George, okay?"

"Is that so?" Charlotte's lips curved into a cold smile.

“Now that you’re fine, what’s the issue? Why are you still hanging onto my husband?” Charlotte shot back.

George’s expression darkened instantly. "Charlotte, stop being unreasonable!"

"I'm being unreasonable?"

Charlotte's emotions erupted without warning at that moment.

She pointed at Jennifer, her eyes reddening, and shouted, "Today is our wedding anniversary, yet you brought your first love into our home! What do you take me for?"

Her emotional outburst did not draw the slightest trace of remorse from George; instead, it only deepened his displeasure. "Enough! Don't act like a shrew making a scene here and disturbing Jennifer's rest."

As he spoke, he helped Jennifer toward the bedroom upstairs.

Charlotte watched their retreating figures in despair, feeling that her three-year marriage was nothing but a complete joke.

Her voice calm, she said, "George, let's get a divorce."

George halted and turned back slowly, his brow deeply furrowed. “What did you just say?” he asked, as though he hadn’t heard her correctly. The Charlotte in his memory had schemed and shamelessly married him—how could she possibly agree to divorce so easily?

"I said, I want a divorce!" Charlotte repeated. "George, since you can't forget your first love, I'll make it easy for you both!"

George's expression darkened immediately. "Have you thought this through?"

"Yes!" Charlotte's attitude was firm.

Seeing the tense atmosphere, Jennifer quickly tried to mediate. "Charlotte, don't say things in anger. Talk it over properly with George."

"There's nothing to discuss,” George said dismissively. “If she wants a divorce, so be it. I’d like to see how far she can get without me."

With that, he helped Jennifer upstairs without looking back.

Charlotte stood in the empty living room, dazed for a long while, before slowly walking upstairs.

Passing by the master bedroom door, she heard Jennifer's soft voice from inside. "George, I'm so scared. Every time I close my eyes, I see my mother."

The door wasn't closed, left slightly ajar.

Through the gap, Charlotte saw Jennifer nestled in George's arms, crying pitifully. "Can you stay here with me tonight, just like last time?"

George softly brushed her hair, his voice low and calm. “Alright.”

Charlotte closed her eyes, and in that moment, something inside her went completely numb.

She and George had been married for three years. George had never touched her, and they had always slept in separate rooms.

So George wasn't cold by nature—he just never intended to give that tenderness to her.

Charlotte silently returned to her bedroom, pulled out her suitcase from under the bed, and started packing.

Just then, her phone rang.

The caller spoke politely, “Ms. Blake, this is Elysian Designs. We’ve reached out several times regarding the Chief Designer Assistant position. Have you considered it?”

Three years ago, she had won first place in an international design competition. Countless renowned fashion design companies had extended offers to her, but she had turned them all down.

Back then, her heart and mind were full of George. She only wanted to devote herself to her family and do her best to be George's wife.

One by one, the other design companies stopped reaching out, leaving only Elysian Designs still consistently in contact.

The caller continued, "Our CEO heard that you're married and was worried you might have concerns, so he's specially arranged accommodation for your family as well, in case you can't leave them behind."

"That won't be necessary," Charlotte said calmly. "I'll take it."