Blurb：
Dive into the epic world of Camelot where destiny intertwines the lives of Arthur Pendragon, the future king, and Merlin, the powerful sorcerer. This gripping novel explores their unbreakable bond as they face mystical threats, political intrigue, and the quest for the Holy Grail. With characters like Guinevere, Lancelot, and Morgana le Fay shaping their journey, experience a story of magic, loyalty, and betrayal. Perfect for fans of medieval fantasy and Arthurian legends, this book brings Excalibur, the Round Table, and ancient prophecies to life. Discover why Arthur and Merlin’s saga remains timeless!
Content：
In those eight terrifying seconds when the plane dropped into darkness, my first thought was how devastated Lucas would be if I never made it to the airport.
However, after surviving and landing safely, what greeted me instead…was a photo he shared with his childhood sweetheart, the two of them smiling on a hike.
The caption read:
[Here’s to still being wild with you at sixty.]
If it had been before, I probably would have blown up his phone, demanding an explanation and picking a fight.
However, then, after brushing so close to death, I just felt… tired..
So I typed out a message: [Let’s get a divorce.]
Chapter 1
A couple next to me held each other tight, their tears flowing freely. The girl was a survivor, just like me.
In the lounge the airport had set up, everyone was busy calling their loved ones to let them know they were okay. I watched them, one by one, quickly getting through, and I could not help but smirk bitterly at myself.
I had barely caught my breath after we landed safely when I had frantically dialed Lucas Hoffman’s number. It rang for a mere second before the call was dropped.
I told myself Lucas was probably just waiting for me at the exit, all worried.
However, when I went to text him, I saw that he had posted on his social media a few minutes before. There he was in a selfie with Yvonne Emerson, his childhood best friend.
They were cheek to cheek, shoulders touching, grinning on some mountaintop. The caption hit me hard.
[Hope we’re still living it up like this at 60.]
The fear I had felt for him while I was plummeting from the sky, the thought that he would be devastated if I died, all seemed like a cruel joke then. He was busy making wishes to keep the good times rolling with someone else, not me.
It did not take long for the news of our flight’s mishap to explode across social media. The cockpit windshield had shattered, and the pilot had to land the plane manually, battling the cold and the loss of cabin pressure.
My parents had seen the news and called me right away, and my friends all checked in too. However, Lucas, whom I always kept at the top of my chat list, had not sent even one message.
Our last conversation was still about the flight details I had sent him four hours ago. No reply from him.
There I was, foolishly thinking he would be at the airport to pick me up, worried sick like the boyfriend next to me, his eyes red from crying for his girl.
However, as I sat there, my heart, which had been racing with terror as we fell from the sky, finally began to settle.
I typed out the message with a heavy heart. [I think we should get a divorce.]
Within a minute, my phone buzzed. It was Lucas.
“What’s gotten into you, Harriet? Why are you freaking out now?” he snapped.
I bit back the hurt and managed to ask, “Where are you?”
He went quiet for a few seconds, probably rereading the message and catching the flight details I had sent.
However, his tone was still laced with annoyance when he spoke again. “So I forgot to pick you up from the airport. Big deal. You can take a cab home, can’t you?”
He paused, then added, “You’re always going on about divorce. Doesn’t it get old?”
Then, out of nowhere, a woman’s voice chimed in on his end, “Lucas, dinner’s ready.”
“Be right there,” he replied, his voice suddenly warm and cheerful—a stark contrast to the distance he had shown me.
I felt a wave of indifference wash over me.
“Lucas, I mean it,” I said, and before he could respond, I ended the call.
I sent him one last message with the news, then demoted him from his VIP spot in my messages.
In a single breath, I deleted and blocked his number. In all our five years of marriage, through every argument, I had never once deleted Lucas.
He was a pro at it, though. Anytime I upset him, he would block me and wait for me to beg for his forgiveness.
When I thought about it, the one who should have been asking for forgiveness was always him.
I used to put up with it because I loved Lucas. I would let things slide, hoping to keep our fragile marriage intact.
After all the times I had seen Yvonne pop up in his life, relegating me to the background, after all the arguments and the countless times I had swallowed my pride, I was done.
This time, I was truly exhausted.
Chapter 2
The moment they caught wind of the news, my parents were dead set on coming to get me.
Mom and Dad wrapped me up in a tearful embrace, and I ended up crashing at their place for the night.
The next day at the office, right in the middle of lunch, Lucas barged into my personal space like he owned the place. He usually avoided me at work to keep the gossip down.
However, he was all up in my face, accusing, “Harriet, everyone has their breaking point with tantrums, don’t they? Giving me the cold shoulder, staying away from home—what’s that all about?”
“And you? Didn’t exactly make it home last night, did you? Only figured out the house was empty this morning, huh, Lucas? Some husband you are.”
I had checked my phone. Not a peep from Lucas last night, but come eight in the morning, he suddenly became Mr. Call-Me-Maybe.
That was not the first time Yvonne kept him out all night.
As expected, he scrunched up his face, acting like it was all cool. “What’s the big deal? Yvonne’s just back in town, and as a friend, I hung out with her a bit more. That’s all. Nothing happened…”
Back for a year and that was his idea of ‘just’? Please.
“I couldn’t care less,” I said coolly.
“Wait, what?” He was gearing up to keep explaining, but my answer threw him for a loop.
I laid it out, “Basically, who you hang with, what you do, you don’t have to report back to me anymore.”
Lucas looked like I had slapped him with a wet fish, just staring at me, speechless.
“Let’s talk after work,” he finally said.
Fine by me. I had a few choice words of my own.
Come quitting time, I hit the parking lot and there they were: Lucas in the driver’s seat and Yvonne riding shotgun.
“Yvonne had a client nearby, figured I’d give her a lift,” he mumbled, all awkward.
‘Right, it was always me begging for an explanation before,’ I mused.
Yvonne flashed me an apologetic grin. “Sorry for the hassle, Lucas. Harriet, you’re cool with this, right?”
Her words said sorry, but her eyes were practically throwing down a gauntlet.
I just grunted and reached for the back door of the car, ready to hop in.
“You’re not sitting shotgun?”
Lucas piped up, and I caught a glimpse of worry flickering across his face.
Yvonne looked taken aback by his question.
Well, it made sense. I used to get all worked up about riding up front with him.
Whenever I brought it up, Lucas just brushed it off, accused me of making mountains out of molehills, and said that was just how women were—overly dramatic.
However, it was not about being a woman. It was about knowing where I stood with the person I loved.
This time, I chose the back seat without a fuss, and Lucas was not happy about it. Strangely enough, I felt a wave of peace wash over me.
“Let’s hit the road. I’ve got stuff to do later, and we’ve only got half an hour for lunch.”
He did not say another word, just shot me a long look before starting the car.
At the restaurant, Lucas and Yvonne were deep in conversation, laughing and chatting like I was not even there.
It was always the same story. Yvonne would bring up inside jokes or shared memories that I could not latch onto.
When the food arrived, I did not even reach for my fork. Instead, I flagged down the waiter to order a bowl of pumpkin soup.
Lucas’s brow creased with concern. “Not hungry?”
I gave the soup on the table an icy look and met his eyes.
“Seafood allergy. Did you forget about the last time I had a reaction and we rushed to the ER?”
Lucas looked away, a flicker of remorse crossing his face. That ER visit was on him, after all.
Chapter 3
Ever since I said ‘I do’ to Lucas, I placed his needs before mine, tailoring even my meals to suit his taste buds.
He was a total seafood junkie. Me, though? I used to break out in hives just thinking about it.
I had sucked it up more times than I could count, just to make him happy.
However, all my toughing it out? He just took it as a given.
Last time, my allergy went nuclear, and Lucas did not even blink. Dragged me to a seafood feast anyway.
I ended up gasping for air in the ER, and he was moaning about how I ruined the fun, calling me oversensitive. He even had the nerve to say Yvonne would never pull a stunt like that, because she had been his seafood buddy since they were in diapers.
Was I blind or what, trying to push his childhood crush out of the picture?
Seriously, if he really cared about me, would he play the comparison game when I was feeling like death warmed over?
“Oops, Harriet’s allergic, my bad, totally slipped my mind,” Yvonne cooed, her words dripping with fake pity. “I just love seafood, and Lucas, bless him, he’s always going along with it.”
I just flashed her a tight smile and shot back, “Yeah, he’s super considerate of you.”
Lucas’s face turned stormy, and he slammed his cutlery down like he was trying to make a point.
Mad? I was just calling it like I saw it. What was he mad about?
Right then, my soup showed up. I kept my head down, focusing on my bowl, but Lucas made a big show of sitting right next to me.
That left Yvonne across the table, chomping on her cheek and shooting me the stink eye.
The rest of the meal passed in dead silence.
I was about to bounce the second I finished my soup, but Lucas caught my hand. “We need to talk,” he said, all serious.
“Lucas, my parents say they miss you. They want me to bring you over. Got time later?” Yvonne butted in, reaching for his arm like it was the most natural thing in the world.
However, Lucas, in a move that shocked us both, kept his distance, leaving her hanging. He did not even bother to answer her.
I threw him a curveball. “Hey, did you check out that news article I sent you yesterday?”
Lucas blinked, surprised, and whipped out his phone to scroll through our texts.
I watched his face lose color as I said, “Lucas, there was an incident involving a plane yesterday. I was freaking out that you’d be upset for me. But what about you? If I had actually died, how long would it have taken you to notice?”
I left Lucas standing there, lost, and caught a cab back to my parents’ place.
After a lot of thinking, I decided to come clean to my parents about my divorce and all the bottled-up frustration from the past few years.
That heart-to-heart got me their understanding. All they have ever wanted was for me to be happy.
I crashed at their place for the next few days. I used to be all about Lucas, hardly ever hanging with Mom and Dad.
It was funny how staring death in the face could make things crystal clear.
If I could not be the only one in the spotlight, then forget it.
Lucas started showing up after work with gifts in tow, cozying up to my parents and quizzing Mom about my favorite meals—stuff the old Lucas would never bother with, thinking it was not manly.
He even got me presents—a bracelet and some lady’s perfume.
I barely gave them a glance.
“Don’t you like them?” he asked, all careful and concerned. That was new for him.
I gave him a weird look. “Ever seen me wear this kind of bracelet? And the perfume—it’s too sweet, not my style.”
I watched his expression fall as I laid it out without pulling any punches.
“Yvonne put you up to this, didn’t she? Sorry, but I’m not into being just like everyone else.”
Back in the day, I would have been over the moon to get anything from him.
Lucas’s jaw tightened, and in a sudden burst of anger, he knocked the pile of gifts to the floor.
“Why do you have to talk like that? The hike with Yvonne was planned way before, and it’s not like I could’ve stopped the plane from having issues. Look at you! You’re totally fine, aren’t you?”
Chapter 4
I thought I was over it, but his icy words sent a shiver through my heart.
Everyone I knew, even people I barely talked to, had kind words for me after hearing about my close call.
My husband? He had not said one caring thing to me that whole time.
I gave him a small, wry smile. “I don’t remember asking you to shower me with gifts, did I?”
“You’re going to regret this, Harriet!”
With his teeth gritted in anger, Lucas stormed out without a backward glance.
I ended up going back home. I had stuff to pack and a divorce agreement to discuss with my lawyer friend.
Lucas changed his late-night habits. He started coming home right after work and even cooked meals that were just to my liking.
He even started offering to drive to work together.
However, I had him drop me off just before we got to the office.
He looked at me, bewildered, asking why.
“You wanted to keep our relationship hush-hush around the office, remember?”
Lucas was speechless.
When he started at the company, I was the one with the higher position. He was worried about office gossip and did not want us to be public. I got it and respected his wishes.
Even after we got married and he climbed the ranks, he still kept us a secret.
He even had to have his own car, refusing to commute with mine.
“Where’s your ring?” he suddenly asked, eyeing my left hand on the steering wheel.
I brushed it off. “It’s not practical, so I took it off.”
“No way! You never took that off before…”
His words were tinged with a whiny nasal sound.
True, I had always worn it, a silent signal to my coworkers that I was taken, though they had not a clue about the man I had married.
They would joke about my top-secret love life, guessing he must be some kind of catch.
If only they knew it was my husband who would not own up to being mine.
Lucas held out the ring to me, but I could not care less, actually feeling more bugged than anything.
“Keep it if it means so much to you.”
Later that night, Yvonne’s picture popped up on my phone.
There was Lucas, numbing his woes with booze at a bar, slumped over in her embrace.
Her message read, [Thanks for giving him back to me.]
I left her hanging, snapped a screenshot, and blasted it on my feed.
[Perfect pair. Best wishes.]
Come morning, Lucas was at my door, desperate to clear the air, insisting they had not done a thing.
“Take down your post, will you? Yvonne was just blowing off steam. Her new business can’t take the hit if your clients see that…”
I coolly told him, “I really do wish you the best.”
That set off his alarm bells.
I slid the signed divorce papers across to him.
“We’re done, Lucas.”
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