Chapter Text
Four years.
It had been four long and lonely years of being married to one of the richest men in the country, Ivar Ragnarson. Four years of ignored phone calls, public humiliation, cruelty and dismissive comments.
When the marriage was first proposed something in your gut told you to run, but then you saw him. Him in his well fitting suit and his electric blue eyes; you thought to yourself, if you have to marry some stranger your dad picked, at least he’s attractive. You had even been foolish enough to imagine growing to love each other in due time, how stupid you had been.
Even in that first meeting his eyes never met yours, it was a business contract to him. His family required him to be married in order to receive his father’s inheritance, and your family had ‘an acceptable social standing’.
The wedding was rushed and small, the honeymoon nonexistent as Ivar went to work immediately after you both said “I do”
Now you were sitting on the stairs four years later, still watching the front door and waiting for it to finally open. You had been sitting there long enough for your fully charged phone to be on thirteen percent battery now, and still the door was unmoving.
‘He’d make me wait for even this wouldn’t he? At least he’s consistent.’ you scoffed as you picked up your file folder and stood to go upstairs.
Just then the door swung open and hit the wall with a loud bang, the noise was so sudden you nearly jumped out of your skin. Your heart began to slow down as you recognized Ivar standing in the doorway with his arm around a familiar petite blond.
'Oh, your wife was waiting up for you. How cute.' Margrethe smirked as she leaned impossibly closer to your husband.
‘Are the vultures starting to wait around for their meal already?’ Ivar asked in annoyance.
‘I know you don’t like me bothering you after work, but it’s important. We should discuss this in private.’ you said, holding up the folder.
‘Margrethe is my assistant, she sees every piece of paper with my name on it.’
At this you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself, because of course he would never grant you the honor of speaking with him privately.
‘You’re right, don’t know what I was thinking. Well the summary is I need you to sign these immediately.’ you said as you held out the folder.
‘What is this?’ Ivar asked as he took the file folder.
‘Nothing important, just divorce papers.’ you shrugged casually as you walked past Ivar and his mistress on your way to the kitchen.
You had always imagined doing this would be harder, divorcing someone should feel like the world ending. Like losing a portion of yourself, it should feel like leaving your happy place.
You had been looking for things with happier memories that would make you want to stay, but there were no good memories in this house. The truth was finally saying it felt amazing; divorcing Ivar was the most fun you’d had since you met him.
‘Divorce?’ Ivar asked in what amusingly sounded like shock.
‘I already signed, just waiting on yours and then I can take them to city hall.’ you explained.
‘What game are you playing at now (Y/N)?’ Margrethe asked snobbily as she took the file from Ivar and began reading the Divorce Agreement.
‘Feel free to read it over before you sign, I’m not after alimony or any of your assets. Clean cut for everyone; we both go back to not knowing each other on and off paper. My family is certainly not as well off as yours but I’ll be comfortable without taking a singular cent from you, Ivar.’ you assured them as you began to prepare dinner.
You felt like having a large salad tonight.
‘Cut the dramatics, and tell me what you want.’ Ivar said as he followed you into the kitchen.
‘I already told you what I want, I want to divorce you Ivar. You have your inheritance, hell according to the business magazines you’ve tripled it in the last two years, so even losing it now wouldn’t matter. You got what you wanted from me, my family has thrived as well with your family’s influence but there are no current projects between our companies so now is the perfect time to do this.’ you reasoned, still moving around the kitchen preparing your meal.
‘The perfect time? Exactly how long have you been planning this?’ Ivar asked accusingly.
‘If you’re asking how long I've had the divorce papers signed…about a year. Didn’t want any scandals affecting any projects so I’ve just been waiting.’
Ivar felt a vein begin to bulge in his forehead as his frustration grew; he ran a hand down his face to try and ground himself before he said something in anger, but his tongue was too sharp for his own good.
‘So how much are you trying to get out of this? Because whatever the amount, you could just ask for it now without all this drama.’ he said nastily.
‘I already said I don't want your money Ivar, ask your assistant, she’s had her nose to the page the whole time.’
‘Wow, she’s really surrendering everything except her premarital assets. The cars, the jewelry, the houses and estates…everything but her bakery.’ Margrethe said, looking up smugly from the divorce papers for the first time.
‘It’s mine, I spent months on the menu, I designed the interior down the last floor tile. I’ve put more love into that bakery than you could imagine Margrethe; but you’re right. I’ll have my lawyer draw up a new agreement, hopefully those new terms are satisfactory enough to you.’ you said as you plated your salad beautifully.
‘When did you even open a bakery?’ Ivar asked in utter confusion, this was the first he’d heard of a bakery.
‘It doesn’t matter when it opened, you’ll close it down. Just let me know when you’re ready to sign the papers. I’ll be out of the house by noon tomorrow, and I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight.’ you said, trying to walk past Ivar, but he grabbed your arm and stopped you.
‘I’m talking to you.’ he seethed.
‘Yeah for the first time in four years… and it’s too late. I don’t want to listen to what you have to say, Ivar; I don’t want anything from you except this divorce.’ you replied, pulling your arm out of his grasp.
‘I’ll enjoy my meal upstairs, I’m sure Margrethe won’t mind cooking you two a nice dinner…the candles are in the cabinet if you two want some mood lighting.’ you said coolly.
Margrethe made a smug face when she heard her name, but you didn’t feel any urge to even acknowledge her; so you took your salad, left the kitchen at last and went upstairs.
_______________________________
While you ate your meal Ivar stood in the kitchen right where you left him.
Divorce?
She had been all too eager to marry him when their families suggested it, now she was able to ask to divorce him without even looking at him.
‘Who the hell does she think she is? Mother Teresa? I told you that you shouldn’t have married the first girl your parents picked. She's too domestic for you.’ Margrethe snipped.
‘My parents didn’t pick her.’
‘What?’ Margrethe asked in horror as his words were processed.
‘I’m sorry Margrethe, I’ll get you an Uber back home, but I need to talk to (Y/N) right now.’ Ivar tried to follow behind his wife.
‘But what about our dinner reservation? It took almost two weeks to get it.’ Margrethe complained, grabbing onto Ivar’s arm gently.
Ivar cursed under his breath as he dug his wallet out of his pocket and gave it to his assistant.
‘Go with a friend.’ he said as he gave her one of his credit cards.
'But Ivar, we always have dinner together.' the blonde tried to remind him, linking their arms.
'Then we can reschedule this one, Maggie I need to speak with my wife tonight. Just go.' Ivar snapped impatiently, pulling away from her.
With that done he snatched the file from Margrethe and ran up the stairs; he needed to talk to his wife.
Ivar barged into the room and saw her on the floor in front of the bed eating her food and watching what looked like Game of Thrones on her phone while it was charging.
‘You don’t have to enter every room like there’s an assassin behind the door.’ she said as she paused her show.
‘What is wrong with you?’ Ivar asked.
‘Well I was trying to watch my show before I started packing, but if you want me to hurry at least let me finish my salad.’ she said as she went back to eating.
‘Stop playing games! Why are you asking me for a divorce?’ Ivar shouted in frustration.
‘Why would I stay, Ivar.’ she asked seriously, setting aside her plate and looking at Ivar fully.
Ivar felt as if her eyes had stabbed him in the chest, he had never seen such anger expressed solely with one's eyes.
‘Four years, and I’ve spoken to you more tonight than I ever have before. In fact I never speak to you outside of mandatory social events. Events where you humiliate me publicly by bringing another woman every time. How many times have I reminded your coworkers that I’m your wife and not Margrethe? Do you know? Because I don’t, I stopped correcting them last year…when I got the divorce papers.’ she said angrily as she stood.
‘So that’s what this is? Jealousy? You’re being ridiculous.’ he scoffed.
‘When is my birthday, Ivar?’ she asked directly.
Ivar opened his mouth to answer but no answer came out, because he didn’t have one. He had never even thought about her having a birthday to celebrate.
‘On Margrethe’s birthday last year, you made me go to the store and buy an emerald pair of earrings. Emerald because green is her favorite color, gold details so she knows it’s expensive, not too big so they’re comfortable to wear.’ she said as she walked closer to Ivar.
‘She is a family friend, and she has been working under me for seven years. I’m not having an affair with her.’ Ivar explained.
‘Maybe you aren't, but it doesn’t matter, you don’t love me, Ivar. You at least seem to like her more than me, so why not divorce me and see what happens with her. Maybe you’ll even want to sleep with her at night.’ (Y/N) practically snarled up at him.
‘I sleep with you every night!’ Ivar argued.
‘You creep in while I sleep and you sneak out before I wake up. You don’t speak to me, you don’t hold me, you don’t touch me. Hell sometimes you act like it sickens you to even look at me, so why are we doing this now?’ she seemed to be begging now more than arguing.
She looked like a woman at the end of her rope, her angry eyes were beginning to glisten with fresh hot tears.
‘I will never darken your doorway again, I won’t ask you for a dime- I’ll give up my bakery. I will do anything…so long as I don’t have to be yours.’
Ivar knew she had a point, in the back of his mind he always knew he wasn’t a good husband to (Y/N), but he never thought she would be the one to end it.
‘I will not sign the papers, not now or ever. You are my wife, you have been my wife for four years and you will be my wife for the rest of your life.’ Ivar said firmly as he stepped closer.
He stopped immediately when he saw her step back from him.
‘I don’t want to be your wife!’ she screamed as the tears finally began to fall down her cheeks.
‘I’m tired! More than that, I’m exhausted from walking on your fucking eggshells! I’m tired of waiting up for you, eating alone, waking up alone and feeling like dog shit on your shoe!’ she struggled to get the words out over her sobs, and once she had she just kept crying.
Ivar didn’t know what to do, she had never cried before, no matter how harsh he was, but now she cried hard and her sobs seemed to echo in the room.
He took a cautious step towards her and tried to do what he knew a good husband would, comfort her somehow, but she pushed him away.
‘No! Not now, after I finally got the courage to leave! I’m not doing this with you now!’ she said before she stormed out of the room.
‘Where are you going?’ Ivar asked as he followed her down the stairs.
(Y/N) stopped by the door and looked up at him still standing by the stairs.
‘I’m not telling you, I don’t want you to know where I am, or where I’m going. I don’t ever want to see you again after this divorce is finalized. Don’t bother even speaking to me outside of signing the papers, goodbye Ivar.’ she said before she removed her wedding ring and put it on the table.
‘(Y/N), I’m telling you not to leave.’
This time she didn’t argue or even acknowledge that she’d heard him speak at all; she just turned around, opened the door and left.