After Divorce, I Became an Art Queen

Julian Vance tossed a divorce agreement onto my table.

His voice was as calm as if he were discussing a business acquisition.

His phone screen was still lit, displaying a stranger's picture.

I put down my carving knife and glanced out the window. New York was covered in heavy snow, just like the day he knelt before my kiln to propose.

"Why?" I asked.

He was silent for three seconds before uttering words I'd remember for the rest of my life:

"You shine too brightly. I'm tired. I want a normal life with a normal woman."

I looked down at my hands, covered in sawdust. These very hands had sold my family's legacy to fund his startup when he had nothing. Now that he was successful, he found me too bright.

"Fine." I picked up the pen and signed the agreement.

He froze, seemingly surprised by how readily I agreed.

"You won't try to keep me?"

I smiled, tossing the pen back onto the table.

"Julian Vance, trash belongs in the trash can. Why would I want to keep it?"

Audrey Quinn POV

The deep autumn wind howled against the glass windows of my artisan shop in New York, a mournful cry.

I sat in a wicker chair, staring blankly at my phone screen.

It was a live photo. The background was that notoriously hard-to-book French restaurant downtown. Julian, wearing the black coat I had personally embroidered, was bending down, tying a scarf around a woman.

The woman's face would disappear instantly in a crowd. She wore an old-fashioned puffer coat, her shoulders hunched.

But Julian's gaze, as he looked at her, held that soul-deep tenderness I once thought was exclusively mine. He even reached out to smooth her wind-tousled hair.

Julian was cheating.

This man, a titan in New York's business world, once knelt before my kiln in front of all the media, wiping the dust from my face and declaring me his life. Now, his life had changed hands.

At ten that night, the lock on the villa door clicked. Julian walked in, bringing with him the biting cold. He still had that aloof, superior air, impeccably dressed in his suit, radiating power.

I didn't turn on the lights. In the darkness, I tossed my phone onto the marble table. The screen lit up, displaying the scarf-tying photo.

"Explain this," my voice was eerily calm, without a single tremor.

Julian paused, his gaze sweeping over the screen. He didn't flinch, nor did he show any sign of being caught off guard. He slowly took off his coat, hung it on the rack, walked to the sofa, and sat down, crossing his legs.

"Chloe," he uttered the woman's name, his tone as indifferent as if discussing an unimportant contract. "I'm in love with her."

My heart constricted violently, as if an invisible hand had clamped down hard, making even breathing a painful struggle.

"Love?" I forced a laugh, finding it utterly absurd. "Julian Vance, when you were twenty, you got lost in the remote mountains for three days and three nights, searching for a piece of wood I wanted. You came back covered in blood. You grabbed my hand and said you'd only love me for this lifetime. Now you're telling me you're in love with a woman whose face you can barely remember?"

Julian leaned back against the sofa, pinching the bridge of his nose, a deep weariness etched on his brow.

"Audrey, I'm tired."

He looked up at me, his gaze full of cold, rational analysis, cruelly heartbreaking.

"We've been together for seven years. For these seven years, I cherished you like a goddess. When you cut your hand doing wood carvings, I called every doctor in New York to our house. When you were upset because a kiln firing failed, I canceled multi-billion dollar mergers and sat with you in your studio for three days and nights. When you complained about the carving knives on the market, I spent half a year learning blacksmithing and personally forged a set for you."

He enumerated the past, and what I thought were profound declarations of love now became his accusations against me.

"You're an artist. You have your integrity, your pride, your moods. Every day, I had to carefully guess your thoughts, afraid a word might displease you, afraid an action might disrupt your inspiration. But Audrey, I'm also human. I can get exhausted."

Julian's gaze drifted past me, into the empty space, and his voice held a hint of longing. "Chloe is different. She's just a regular librarian. She doesn't understand art, or wood carving, or complex business dealings. But she'll clumsily warm a glass of milk for me when my stomach acts up. She'll hand me a warm glass of water when I get home from work. With her, I don't need to pretend, I don't need to look up to anyone. I just need to be a regular man. Those have been the most relaxed days I've had in seven years."

A glass of milk, a glass of warm water.

I felt as if all the blood in my veins had frozen. My talent, which I was so proud of, all the deep affection I'd poured into him, in this man's eyes, had become a heavy chain.

"So, my seven years of youth, all the painstaking effort I poured into my carvings for you, is worth less than a glass of warm water?" My voice trembled, my eyes burning with a painful ache.

"You're excellent, Audrey." Julian stood up, looking down at me. "But things that shine too brightly can be blinding if you stare at them too long. I won't divorce you. The position of Mrs. Vance will always be yours. But I won't let Chloe go either."

He dropped that bombshell, then turned and walked towards the guest room.

I sat in the darkness, listening to the guest room door lock, and my tears finally splattered onto the back of my hand. The man who promised to shield me from every storm, had personally unleashed a blizzard on me.

Audrey Quinn POV

The next day, I went to that library.

I wore a well-tailored trench coat and exquisite makeup. I stood among the rows of bookshelves, watching the woman named Chloe. Chloe was tidying books, moving slowly, wearing thick-rimmed glasses, her hair casually tied back, giving her an air of timidity and awkwardness.

I walked over. The clicking of my heels on the floor made Chloe look up.

"Ms. Quinn?" Chloe clearly recognized me. Her face instantly turned pale, and the book in her hand dropped to the floor with a thud.

I didn't look at the book, just quietly observed her. Ordinary, too ordinary, so ordinary that it aroused no sense of threat.

"Leave him," I said, my voice even. "Whatever amount of money you want, I'll give it to you."

Chloe's eyes immediately reddened, tears streaming down her face. She shook her head frantically like a startled rabbit. "Ms. Quinn, I don't want money I know I'm not worthy of Julian, and I don't want to ruin your marriage. I just I just love him too much. As long as I can watch him from afar, I'll be content. Please, don't make me leave"

She cried pitifully, as if I were some evil villain.

I felt nauseous. I was about to speak when my wrist was suddenly grabbed with brute force. I staggered, almost losing my balance.

"Audrey Quinn! What are you doing!"

Julian had arrived, I didn't know when. He pulled Chloe protectively behind him, as if she were a rare treasure, then turned to glare at me, his eyes as cold as ice.

"I was just having a chat with her." My wrist throbbed, my bones feeling like they might shatter, but I stubbornly refused to cry out in pain.

"A chat? Trying to force her with money, or pressure her with your status as Mrs. Vance?" Julian sneered. "Chloe isn't one of those snobbish women in your circle; she doesn't care about money! Do you think everyone is like you, calculating everything perfectly?"

I laughed, exasperated. If I were calculating, I wouldn't have sold my family's inherited gallery to him to fund his startup when he had nothing.

"Julian, don't blame Ms. Quinn, it's all my fault" Chloe tugged on Julian's sleeve, sobbing uncontrollably.

Julian lovingly patted the back of Chloe's hand, then looked at me again, his eyes filled with nothing but disgust.

"Audrey Quinn, I'm warning you, don't come looking for her again. She's timid, and she can't handle your arrogant behavior. If you dare lay a hand on her, don't blame me for not remembering our past."

With that, he put his arm around Chloe's shoulders and walked out of the library without a backward glance.

I stood rooted to the spot, watching their intertwined figures disappear, my chest feeling like it was being repeatedly sliced by a dull blade, raw and bleeding.

That evening, Julian came home. He walked straight up to me and threw a document onto the table.

"The transfer deed for that glass studio in the city south. Sign it."

I looked down. It was the glass studio I had spent two years planning, preparing for my solo exhibition. Julian once said he'd make sure all of New York would see my talent there.

"Why?" I looked up, my voice dry.

"Chloe likes growing succulents. Her rented apartment is too small and doesn't get any sunlight. That sunroom is just sitting empty; she can use it," Julian said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"That's my studio!" I jumped to my feet, my voice finally cracking. "You know I have an exhibition next month!"

"The exhibition won't die if it's postponed for a few months," Julian frowned, visibly impatient. "Your wooden and stone pieces can be exhibited anywhere. Chloe isn't well and needs more sun. Don't be so selfish."

Selfish.

I looked at this man, both familiar and strange. He once argued fiercely with someone over a piece of wood for me. Now, for a few pots of another woman's succulents, he casually destroyed my painstaking work.

I picked up the pen and signed my name on the document, the tip tearing the paper slightly.

"Take it." I threw the document at him, then turned away, unwilling to look at him any longer.

Audrey Quinn POV

With the glass studio taken, my exhibition had to be hastily relocated to my cramped artisan shop.

The opening day arrived with a torrential downpour in New York. Julian had promised to attend. He'd said that no matter what, he would never miss any important moment in my life.

I stood in a thin evening gown at the shop entrance, watching cars come and go through the rainy curtain. The cold wind, mixed with rain, chilled me to the bone.

Time ticked by, and guests began to whisper. Their murmurs pierced my ears like needles. I pulled out my phone and called Julian.

It rang for a long time before he finally picked up.

"Hello?" Julian's voice was muffled by rain and background noise.

"Where are you? The exhibition is about to start," I tried to keep my voice steady.

There was a moment of silence on the other end, then Chloe's terrified cry: "Julian, I'm scared The thunder is so loud"

Julian's voice immediately softened. "Don't be afraid, I'm here."

Then, he spoke into the phone. "Audrey, I can't make it. The old apartment complex Chloe lives in has a power outage, and rainwater is pouring into her house. She's alone and scared. You handle your exhibition yourself."

"Julian Vance," I gripped my phone tightly, my knuckles white. "This is the exhibition I've been preparing for three years. You promised me."

"It's just an exhibition. You can do another one next year," Julian's tone was impatient. "Chloe only has me right now. Be mature, don't throw a tantrum at a time like this."

Beep

The call ended.

I listened to the dial tone, slowly lowering my arm. I turned to face the scrutinizing gazes, forcing a polite smile, and courteously greeted the guests.

That night, I stayed late at the shop. I looked at the pieces on display, into which I had poured countless hours. In the most prominent spot was a wood carving titled "Togetherness." I had carved it in Julian's likeness, every line etched with my love.

The door pushed open, and Julian walked in, smelling of rain. He glanced at the empty shop, then walked up to me.

"Are you mad?" he asked casually, as if he'd only missed an unimportant movie.

I didn't speak.

Julian walked to the display stand, his gaze falling on "Togetherness." He reached out and touched the edge of the wood carving.

"Chloe was terrified today. I spent a long time calming her down," he explained, almost boasting about being needed. "She saw my clothes were wet and insisted on making me cream of mushroom soup, but she burned her hand. She's so clumsy, but it's an endearing clumsiness."

I looked at Julian, feeling a churning sickness in my stomach.

"Did you come here just to tell me that?"

Julian withdrew his hand, pulled a velvet box from his pocket, and handed it to me.

"Compensation for you. A limited-edition diamond necklace."

I stared at the box and suddenly laughed. Tears welled up in my eyes. Before, if I even glanced at a certain raw stone, he would find a way to get it, then personally polish it into a unique piece of jewelry for me. Now, he was using a mass-produced item, something money could buy, to placate me after three years of dedication.

"No thanks," I turned my face away. "I find it dirty."

Julian's face darkened. He slammed the box onto the table.

"Audrey Quinn, don't throw a tantrum. I've already apologized, what more do you want?"

He snorted, then turned and left.

I watched his retreating back, picked up the "Togetherness" wood carving from the table, and smashed it fiercely onto the marble floor. Wood splinters flew, and the sculpture broke into two pieces. Just like our seven years of relationship, shattered beyond repair.

Audrey Quinn POV

Julian started to escalate. He no longer hid Chloe's presence, even brazenly bringing her into our shared villa.

"Her apartment is still under renovation, so she'll stay in the guest room for now," Julian announced, then instructed the staff to prepare Chloe's room.

I sat on the sofa, watching Chloe, who stood awkwardly in the center of the living room with a worn canvas bag, like Cinderella mistakenly entering a palace.

In the days that followed, this house, once filled with my essence, was slowly encroached upon by Chloe. She would fry eggs in the kitchen in the morning, wearing Julian's oversized shirt. In the evening, she'd sit on the living room rug, reading him boring novels. She even casually left her cheap plastic hair clips on my expensive vanity table.

Julian indulged all of it. The way he looked at Chloe increasingly resembled a father doting on a daughter who needed complete protection.

Until that afternoon. I returned from my shop and, just as I reached the door, heard a crisp shattering sound from the living room.

I hurried inside, to see Chloe sitting on the floor, flustered, surrounded by porcelain shards. It was the first ceramic cup I had ever fired myself. To achieve that unique color I loved most, I had failed hundreds of times, burning countless blisters on my hands. The day I succeeded, Julian had hugged me and spun me around three times, saying that cup was our family heirloom.

Now, the heirloom was shattered to dust.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to" Chloe cried as she tried to pick up the pieces, cutting her finger, which started to bleed.

Julian rushed out of his study, pushed me aside, and knelt down to suck Chloe's bleeding finger, his face filled with urgent worry.

"How could you be so careless? Does it hurt?"

Chloe leaned into his embrace, crying even harder. "Julian, I broke Ms. Quinn's cup, she's going to be so angry"

Julian turned, his gaze cold as he looked at me.

"It's just a broken cup. So what if it's broken? Why are you putting on such a displeased face for everyone to see?"

I looked at the shards on the floor, my heart aching to the point of spasm.

"A broken cup?" My voice was hoarse. "Julian Vance, have you forgotten how that cup came to be?"

"All I see is Chloe's hand bleeding!" Julian harshly interrupted me. "Audrey Quinn, when did you become so heartless? No matter how precious an item is, can it be more important than a person's well-being?"

He picked up Chloe and strode towards the first-aid kit.

I stood rooted, looking at the mess on the floor. I knelt down, picking up the pieces one by one. The sharp porcelain cut my palm, and blood dripped onto the glazed surface of the shards, a stark sight. But Julian never even looked back.

A few days later, I saw a familiar wooden hair clip in Chloe's hair. It was a gift I had carved for Julian's birthday last year, using the finest wood, working three sleepless nights, carving every stroke with care. It bore the initials of our names.

"That hair clip" I stared at Chloe's hair.

Chloe touched the clip in her hair, giving a shy smile. "Pretty, isn't it? Julian said it was just sitting idle in a drawer, and I thought the wood was nice, so I used it to decorate my hair."

I spun to look at Julian.

Julian was drinking coffee. Catching my gaze, he frowned slightly. "What is it? It's just a wooden hair clip. Chloe liked it, so I gave it to her. If you want one, I'll have someone buy you a whole bunch of better ones."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I finally understood: Julian hadn't forgotten the past. He simply didn't care anymore.

Audrey Quinn POV

New York's annual charity gala, a gathering of the elite. Julian Vance, as a rising star in the business world, was naturally among the invited. As Mrs. Vance, I was expected to attend on his arm.

In the car, the atmosphere was icy. Julian kept his head down, replying to messages, a faint smile playing on his lips. I didn't need to guess; it was Chloe.

Upon arriving at the ballroom, Julian perfunctorily offered me his arm as we walked the red carpet, facing the media's flashing lights. As soon as we entered, Julian withdrew his arm.

"Go mingle, I need to see some clients," he said, then walked into the crowd without a backward glance.

I stood alone in a corner, holding a glass of champagne. I was accustomed to the hypocrisy of these events, and to using indifference to mask my inner turmoil.

Half an hour later, a commotion erupted at the ballroom entrance. I turned to look. Chloe had burst in, like a headless chicken, wearing a clearly ill-fitting, cheap evening gown. She seemed to be delivering some documents, but the security guard at the door stopped her, and she looked on the verge of tears.

The surrounding guests cast glances of disdain and amusement.

"Where did this beggar come from? Did she get lost?"

"To wear something like that to an event like this, how embarrassing."

The whispers were just loud enough to reach Chloe's ears. Her face flushed, and she clutched the document bag tightly.

Just then, Julian pushed through the crowd and strode towards her. He pulled Chloe into his embrace, his sharp gaze sweeping over the onlookers, his voice chillingly cold: "She's with me. Any objections?"

The entire room fell silent. Everyone's eyes began to dart between Julian, Chloe, and me in the corner. Their looks held pity, and ridicule.

Julian took off his own suit jacket, draped it over Chloe's trembling shoulders, and whispered comforting words. Then, he took Chloe's hand and, to the bewildered stares of the crowd, walked straight to the center of the ballroom. He had completely forgotten that his legal wife was still standing there.

A socialite walked up to me, covering her mouth with a soft laugh. "Mrs. Vance, it seems your position isn't very stable. Mr. Vance's protective gesture, one might mistake her for his wife."

My knuckles, gripping the stem of my champagne glass, turned white. I watched Julian, who for Chloe, didn't hesitate to offend everyone present, didn't hesitate to trample my dignity as his wife.

Suddenly, I felt utterly indifferent. I couldn't play this charade called marriage anymore.

I set down my glass and turned towards the exit.

Outside, it had started snowing. New York's first snow, biting cold. I walked down the icy street in my thin gown and ten-centimeter heels. Julian didn't follow. He was too busy comforting his startled little rabbit in the warm ballroom.

My ankle was chafed raw, blood seeping out, staining my heel. Yet, I felt no pain, walking step by painful step. Snowflakes landed on my hair and shoulders, melting into cold water.

I remembered the first snow five years ago. Julian had wrapped me in his coat and carried me down an entire street, just because I said my feet hurt. Now, on the same street, in the same snow, the man who once carried me gave all his warmth to someone else.

Audrey Quinn POV

I fell ill. That long walk in the snowstorm gave me a high fever. For two whole days, I lay in the master bedroom, drifting in and out of consciousness.

In the vast villa, only the staff would regularly bring me warm water and fever reducers. Julian never appeared.

On the evening of the third day, my fever subsided a bit. I was terribly thirsty, my throat aching as if I'd swallowed razor blades. I struggled to get up, leaning on the wall, shuffling downstairs step by painful step.

The kitchen smelled delicious. Julian, in casual loungewear, stood at the counter, clumsily slicing tomatoes. Chloe hugged him from behind, her cheek pressed against his back, giggling.

"Julian, you're slicing them too thick, the pasta will be overcooked."

"That's only because you keep messing around," Julian said, his tone doting, as he reached back to pinch Chloe's nose.

I stood in the shadows of the dining room, watching this heartwarming, yet blinding, scene. I remembered Julian used to be a man who never set foot in the kitchen. Once, when I had a stomachache and wanted cream of mushroom soup, he made a huge mess in the kitchen, and I ended up ordering takeout. Now, he was willing to cook for Chloe.

My fingers, gripping the doorframe, trembled slightly. I coughed.

The laughter from the kitchen abruptly stopped. Julian turned, saw my pale, haggard face, and his brows immediately furrowed.

"What are you doing down here? Don't you know you're sick? What if you infect Chloe?" His first reaction was to blame me for potentially threatening Chloe's health.

My chapped lips stretched into a faint, miserable smile.

"I just wanted a glass of water," my voice was incredibly hoarse.

Julian glanced at the kettle on the counter, but didn't move an inch.

"The kettle's right there. Don't you have hands?" he said coldly.

Chloe peeked out, timidly saying, "Julian, Ms. Quinn is sick. I'll get her some water."

"You don't need to bother," Julian pulled Chloe back. "She's just overly delicate, making a fuss over a small illness."

I listened quietly. I dragged my heavy feet to the counter, picked up the kettle, and poured myself a glass of warm water. My wrist was weak and limp, and half the water spilled out, scalding the back of my hand. As if numb, I picked up the cup and drank the water sip by sip.

Then, I turned and looked at Julian.

"Julian Vance," I said calmly, looking at him. "Do you remember what you did last time I had a fever?"

Julian paused, seemingly trying to recall.

I answered for him. "You didn't close your eyes for three days and nights, blowing on the medicine to cool it before feeding it to me. You said if anything happened to me, you wouldn't live either."

Julian's face changed, a flicker of irritation in his eyes.

"That was all in the past. Why bring it up? People change."

"Yes, people change," I nodded, my gaze sweeping over Chloe behind him. "Your love truly is cheap and disgusting."

"Audrey Quinn!" Julian was enraged, slamming the knife in his hand onto the cutting board. "What are you going crazy about!"

I couldn't be bothered with him anymore. I turned and walked upstairs, my back straight.

In that moment, I distinctly heard the city named "Julian Vance" in my heart, crumble into ruins.