"When did you go?" Winter asked, her voice cold.
Julian knew Winter was always very punctual, so his voice lacked some of its usual confidence. "I picked up Susan from school first, then brought her over with me around noon."
After all, Winter had said she would be discharged from the hospital at nine in the morning.
Winter looked at him, her expression icy. "You truly spoil your daughter rotten. For years, she’s completely ignored the rules I’ve set for her, all because she knows you’ll indulge her. I have to ask you today, by doing this, aren’t you afraid you’re going to ruin her?"
"Susan has always been a good, sensible girl. She knows how to behave," Julian said, his voice low. "It’s you who’s too strict with her. She’s a girl, yet you insist on raising her like a boy. Do you want to raise her to be as cold and rigid as you are?"
Over the years, Julian and Winter’s philosophies on raising Susan had been worlds apart. They had argued about it several times before, but this was the first time it had turned into a real fight.
The warmth instantly vanished from Winter’s eyes. She looked at Julian and asked, "So, is Director Caldwell saying he finds my personality too cold and rigid? That you’re deeply dissatisfied with me?"
Julian knew her temper, but he was a proud man, and in the heat of his anger, he didn’t mince words. "Don’t you know what your own personality is like? I don’t want our daughter to end up like you!"
But hearing those words, Winter became eerily calm. A profound sorrow washed over her. She spoke slowly, "So, all these years, our disagreements over how to raise Susan... they weren’t really disagreements at all. They were just your way of indirectly expressing your dissatisfaction with me. Is that it?"
"Not entirely. I just think a girl should be allowed to be a girl. She can’t always be so cold and rigid. There’s nothing wrong with being a little playful now and then." Julian looked at her. "But look at you. For all these years, all you’ve cared about is work. Have you ever handled anything at home? Have you fulfilled your duties as a wife for even a single day?"
Winter asked him, "So you’ve actually been dissatisfied with me all these years, haven’t you?"
Julian said coldly, "Any man, when he comes home, wants to have someone waiting for him, to have a hot meal on the table. Ask yourself, how many days have you actually been at home over the years? You spend ninety percent of your time, year-round, at that research institute. In your heart, you’ve never treated this house like a home!"
A faint, cold smile touched Winter’s lips. "I understand what you mean now, Julian. Let’s end it here."
Julian froze for a moment before asking, "’End it here?’ What do you mean?"
"It means divorce." Winter’s expression was placid. "The love between us died eighteen years ago. After dragging this on for so many years, I’m exhausted. I can never become the perfect wife and mother you want, so since that’s the case, let’s not waste any more of each other’s time."
With that, she turned, went back into the room, and began to pack her things.
Julian erupted in anger. "Winter Sullivan, do you have any idea what you’re saying?"
"Of course I do." Winter glanced back at him. "Julian, you should have told me all this a long time ago. I always thought you could accept my personality for what it is. You must have suffered so much all these years."