Ch. Mr.chatterbox for her, Mr.Icebox for me? Ice melts and so did my love. 8 Mr.chatterbox for her, Mr.Icebox for me? Ice melts and so did my love. 8

Chapter 8 

The divorce? Total fucking disaster. 

Mason acts like a five-year-old who doesn’t wanna leave the playground. Whining, stalling, making everyone’s life hell. 

Finally signs when he realizes he’s out of options. 

But then just sits there. Staring at that “voluntary divorce” checkbox. Forever. 

Eventually mumbles: “But I’m not doing this by choice. I don’t want this.” 

I lean in close. Voice like a knife. “Mason, keep this shit up and I’ll have nothing left but pure hate for you. That what 

you want?” 

His eyes get all red and wet. “Sera, seriously? There’s really no way? Not even like… a tiny chance?” 

“I’ll quit my job. Move here. Stay in Milan. I’ll do whatever-learn design, I’ll fucking take up knitting if that’s what-” 

“Stop.” 

I shove the papers at him. 

“Here’s how this works. I keep the place my parents gave me. You get everything else. Done.” 

“Sign it. Stop wasting my time.” 

His hand’s shaking so bad when he finally scribbles his name. Looks like a kindergartener wrote it. 

Outside, he grabs me from behind. Starts crying: 

“Sera, I’ll wait. I don’t care how long. Years. Decades. I’m not leaving. I swear to god-” 

I rip free. Don’t even turn around. 

“Don’t wait. We’re already over. Have been for months.” 

Thought that’d be it. Clean break. Move on. 

Hell no. That’s when things go completely off the rails. 

First the text bombing. 

09:27 

Mr Chatterbox for Her Mr Iceberg for Me? Ice Melts and So Did My Lovel 

5.99% 

Chapter 8 

WhatsApp lights up like a Christmas tree. These insane essay-length messages about “our beautiful memories.” 

[Remember burning your hands making my favorite fried pork? Blisters everywhere. You just laughed it off like it was nothing] 

[That time I was stuck at work for weeks. You showed up every night with food. Waited in that freezing hallway till 3 in the morning] 

[You learned massage because you were worried about my back. Every single night. Half an hour] 

[Never put cilantro in anything because I hate it. Even though it’s your favorite] 

The more he dumps on me, the sicker I feel. 

Sick of him. Sick of who I used to be. 

Sick of playing the perfect little wife while he just… took. And took. Like I owed him my entire existence. 

Then the calls start. 

Block him. He calls from random numbers. 

Pick up once by mistake. “Sera, I’m downstairs. Right outside your building. Come down? Just for a second?” 

“Got those flower cakes you love. You know the ones. Had them shipped special. Can’t find them here.” 

I look out. He’s standing in the cold wind like some tragic movie character. 

Ryan walks in. “Want me to handle it?” 

“Nah.” I close the blinds. “Let him freeze. He’ll go home eventually.” 

Except he doesn’t. 

Shows up every day that week. Just stands there. Waiting. 

Ryan and I walk out together one day. 

Mason comes running like a maniac: “Sera! Oh my god, do you actually love him? Is that what this is? I’ll change! Whatever you want! I’ll be completely different!” 

Ryan steps in front of me instantly. “Mr. Hayes, you’re divorced. Back up.” 

Mason completely snaps. Points at Ryan, voice cracking: 

“YOU! This is all YOUR fault! She’d be with me right now if you hadn’t-” 

09:27 

Mr. Chatterbox for Her. Mr. Iceberg for Me? Ice Melts, and So Did My Love! 

6.2% 

Chapter 8 

I push past Ryan. Voice flat and cold. 

“This has nothing to do with him. Zero. I don’t want you. Keep stalking me and I’m calling the cops. Try me.” 

He deflates like a popped balloon. “I just… I need you to look at me. Really look. I’m different now, I promise-” 

“You’re not.” I cut him off. “Before you ignored me.” 

“Now you’re harassing me. Same selfish crap. Different wrapper.” 

“Mason, let me go. And do yourself a favor-let yourself go too.” 

(0) 

(0)