The Wrong Woman

Jasper's gaze turned steely, his face grave. He stated firmly, "I'm not divorcing you."

Imogen's lips quivered, tears pooling in her eyes. She clasped her hands and pleaded, "Mr. Morrison, please. We're not meant to be together. We can't get married."

The use of "Mr. Morrison" felt distant and icy, cutting deep into his heart. His frustration boiled over. "We're not divorced yet. I'm still your husband. Stop calling me 'Mr. Morrison.""

Imogen nodded vigorously. "Okay, fine. I'll call you whatever you prefer, but we must divorce."

She was wary of jeopardizing her family's lives by challenging authority.

The mention of "divorce" weighed heavily on Jasper. He gripped Imogen's arms tightly and pulled her close. Looking down at her, his eyes shimmered with tears of anguish. "Why? What's wrong with me? Why do you hate me so?"

Imogen felt a pang of empathy as she watched Jasper teetering on the brink of losing control. She wrestled with finding the right words to explain herself. Jasper's voice rose with anger. "Is it because I'm not attractive enough, or because I'm not gentle enough? Haven't I treated you right? Give me a reason!"

sorrow, tears flowing freely. She whispered tearfully, "It's because of who you are,

accept such an explanation. He suppressed his despair and roared, "Imogen, if you're mentioning

flinched in fear at his words. She could feel Jasper's

stormed past Imogen into his room and slammed the door shut, sending a jolt of

face in her hands, wiping away tears, and stood there, paralyzed, unsure what to

initial flutter of love, her heart racing with excitement and bashfulness as she

she immediately reprimanded Imogen, "If you don't want trouble, stay away from

A man of his standing could only be suited to a woman from a high society background, someone born into privilege and

a chance at all. Disaster would

known