Since I was busy and had been left to handle all the reservations, I had booked the flights and hotel in my name.

Because of this, I was able to cancel everything swiftly, and got into a taxi.

Instead of heading to the planned airport, I gave the driver my parents’ home address.

When a daughter who was supposed to be on her honeymoon returned home with large luggage, my father was shocked.

As I explained the situation, my father exploded in anger.

“What is this story? Is this some kind of joke?”

The constant calls from my husband only fueled my father’s rage further.

I was furious as well.

This conversation cemented my decision.

“Dad, I’m considering a divorce.”

When I conveyed my resolve, my father calmed his anger and comforted me gently.

Without saying a word, he just gently stroked my back, letting me feel his warmth.

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

As I let these words slip through my tears, my father firmly grasped my hand.

The next day, my husband came to my parents’ house with a box of sweets as an apology.

Just as I was about to turn him away at the gate, my father intervened.

“If you’re considering divorce, we need to talk properly. Let’s hear his true intentions directly. Let him in the house.”

While I had intended to consult a lawyer, I followed my father’s advice and welcomed him.

As soon as my husband saw my father at the door, he immediately apologized.

I felt irritated at the sight of my husband pretending to be innocent in front of my father.

As my husband continued to apologize, I sighed, and my father urged me to lead him to the sitting room.

“President, I apologize for the inconvenience caused by this disturbance,” my husband said, starting to apologize with his face down on the table even before the greetings were over.

Occasionally, even in private, my husband calls my father president.

He used to joke that it had become a habit, but at the moments when he calls my father president, he seems to adopt a businesslike attitude.

Perhaps it’s because he’s used to it at work.

His practiced way of apologizing was disturbingly perfect.

“What is this apology for?” my father pressed, sighing repeatedly.

His emotions were the same as mine.

My husband just kept repeating, “I’m sorry for causing a disturbance.”

This was not an apology to me.

It was just an insult.

As my panicked husband tried to say something, I interrupted him and presented the divorce papers.

“Do you know how to fill out these divorce papers? My part is already completed. Please refer to it.”

Speaking with deliberate politeness, my husband’s face turned pale as he looked at the divorce papers.

“Wait, Tanya. Divorce?”

It felt like the first time since he arrived at the house that he actually looked at me seriously.

I have always been second to him. That should be fine, right, Glenn? You have your mother.

If that is his attitude, I am also prepared to act businesslike and refuse any attempts at reconciliation.

“What are you talking about? Why bring up my mother here? She was looking forward to that trip too. We can go on another trip together some other time, Tanya.”

Aghast at his lack of understanding, I retorted, “Anytime? What does that mean? It was supposed to be our honeymoon.”

My body shook, and I bit my lip in pain from the awfulness.

Why would any husband want to bring his own mother on his honeymoon? Where in the world does that even happen? I asked myself, sickened by the thought.

Yet, as if to worsen the situation, my husband stubbornly persisted.

“It was just a suggestion to go together at first, wasn’t it? You were the one who said there were no flights or hotels available,” Glenn said.

“Think about it. How could we possibly prepare for such a last-minute plan?” I replied.

But it seemed like Glenn didn’t understand at all.

Unbelievably, he was serious.

Glenn showed his anger openly and raised his voice.

“Are you saying to send my mother back, even though she was looking forward to this trip too?”

At that moment, my father intervened and calmed the situation.

“Let’s end this now,” my father said calmly.

And after a silence, he shook his head in disappointment.

“Glenn, I’m really disappointed,” my father said.

And Glenn suddenly called him president and straightened his posture.

My father watched Glenn standing there with a gaze filled with deep sadness and disappointment.

In the heavy silence, my father spoke.

“Why did you choose your mother over Tanya in such a situation?”

That question weighed heavily on Glenn.

Searching for words, Glenn stammered.

“Uh, well…”

Visibly sweating from nervousness, even though Glenn could be assertive towards me at times, he could never defy my father.

My father continued.

“A honeymoon is supposed to be for the couple. You could have gone with your mother anytime after that, right? Wasn’t it true when you said you loved my daughter?”

To this, Glenn shouted, “I’m not lying. I just wanted to treat my mother as important as her.”

At this sudden outburst, my father looked sternly at Glenn for the first time.

“Even if it makes Tanya sad, is that okay?” he pressed.

And Glenn lost his words.

Stammering, then trembling, he said, “I’m sorry.”

But his clenched hands clearly showed the humiliation he felt.

His apology was because it was necessary, not because he truly thought the situation was wrong.