Beyond The Divorce - Season 9 Episode 1

Ivanna, quickly slid on the couch, using my lap as a makeshift pillow. She seemed utterly exhausted, not caring about the unfamiliar surroundings.

With a sigh, she began, “I have a servant’s fate. I was born to endure hardship. Recently, everything became a mess. I’m always dealing with people, it’s truly exhausting. I’ve had enough.” She looked at me with a pitiful expression.

“This time, I finally had a chance to do a program properly. I’m thinking of making a notable achievement and laying the foundation for a promotion. Unexpectedly, troubles kept arising from the moment I took charge. It’s not just tiring, it’s downright scary. Can you believe it?”

I chuckled and teased her, “Why are you scared? Let’s switch places, and you can dangle from the rooftop for an interview. How about that?” Recalling the situation from before, I still felt a lingering fear. I could almost sense Atlas’s hands gripping my ankle with a hint of helplessness.

“By the way, I haven’t had a chance to ask you about what happened. How did you end up on the rooftop that day? Tell me.” Ivanna looked up at me curiously.

Then she said, “Let me gather some materials first. Maybe I won’t be this tired if the documentary turns out well and I get promoted. You could take credit for it.”

Honestly, I felt a pang of sympathy for her. She was truly career-oriented. At this moment, if something significant happened in Bourdamun, she’d probably run back without even finishing her meal.

When it came to work, she was always a force to be reckoned with, as she could work until she neglected her well-being.

Carol was quite fast. She quickly returned with a stack of to-go boxes. Upon seeing them, Ivanna sat up in anticipation, her eyes fixed on the food.

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Seeing her like this, Carol jokingly asked, “Lauren, did you go to work or prison? Why do you look so miserable?”

“Oh, don’t even mention it… I’m not as lucky as you to have such a good boss. My job is like going to war. I have to keep moving forward. There’s no time for a meal break.”

She took the spoon from Carol, her eyes fixed on the dishes as Carol opened the boxes. She couldn’t wait to devour the food, looking like she hadn’t had a decent meal in days.

It seemed she was truly worn out. She muttered while eating, “Let me tell you, it’s been three days since I had a proper meal.”

However, before finishing her sentence, she dropped the spoon. While covering her mouth, she rushed to the lounge.

The next moment, I heard her continuously dry heaving.

I quickly stood up and rushed into the lounge, finding her in the restroom. To be precise, she was dry heaving, not vomiting.

I hurriedly patted her back, asking, “What’s going on?”

She couldn’t answer me until she finished. She opened the tap to drink some water, rinsed her mouth, and looked at me weakly. “Maybe my stomach hasn’t been good lately because of the irregular meat times. I almost threw up my guts.

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I asked with concern, “How long has this been going on?”

She wiped her tears away, took a deep breath, and asked, “How long?Do you think I’m critically ill? It’s just because I didn’t eat well or live well.

“Last time, with him around,

watching me eat every day, I was

ve

better. With no one to take care of me this time, I’m just eating irregularly. That’s why my stomach

is protesting.”

“So, you’re saying you’re lacking attention? You need someone to take care of you?” I looked at her with disdain, teasing.

“So now that you’re all good and

married, you’ve forgotten the pain of

being unmarried. I’m not allowed to

have someone take care of me?”

She threw away the tissue in her hand rubbed her stomach, and said, “It’s okay, I’m starving. Let’s eat quickly. Once I’m full, everything will be fine.”