door opened and closed, sealing off all his fleeting tenderness.
That night, Connor never came back. I sat alone on the sofa until dawn. As the sky brightened, two messages landed on my phone. One was a photo of Connor and
Chloe walking side–by–side into a hotel. The other was a single line of text: “Divorce him. Pick me instead, okay?”
Scrolling up, I found three unread messages:
“Layla, I’m back.”
“Whenever you need me, I’m here.”
“Do you love him that much? Could you love me instead?”
I blinked my burning, tired eyes, then quickly tapped a few words onto the screen: “Okay.”
Connor arrived home the next afternoon. He was wearing a brand–new suit, a brand he would normally never even glance at. He looked immaculate, not a trace of perfume on him. If it weren’t for the glaring red marks on his throat, perhaps no one would have believed that he and Chloe had stayed in that hotel room until the
afternoon.
Likely out of guilt, he had brought me a gift. “I’m sorry. I said some harsh things last night. I apologize.” He placed the gift in front of me.
I pulled out the divorce papers, already prepared, from a drawer and slowly slid them across to him. “Take a look. If everything’s in order, sign them.”
Connor’s brows furrowed. “Just helping an old classmate, and you’re making this a big deal? Layla, when did you get so petty?”
I ignored his words. “Our prenuptial agreement dictates that our pre–marital assets remain separate. As for post–marital cash, it’s a fifty–fifty split. And for the houses, I only want the riverfront condo.”
Connor finally looked at me directly, his deep eyes filled with probing inquiry. After a long moment, he gave a cold laugh. “Is this your new tactic?”
He didn’t believe me. He thought this was just another attempt to win him back, to manipulate him. And of course, the Walker family’s position in the social elite was unshakeable How many old families would have done anything to marry their daughters into it? In his eyes, I had no reason to give up the title of Mrs. Walker,
But I had considered giving up long ago. It was a perfectly ordinary day. Connor, as usual, had been out entertaining clients, returning home completely drunk. As ! helped him, he suddenly pointed at me and snarled, “Layla, your affection disgusts me.”
I froze. A bitter, suffocating ache filled my chest. I distinctly remembered him liking me too. That year, in freshman high school, Connor and I weren’t in the same class Our classrooms were directly across the hall from each other. When an earthquake hit the neighboring state, we felt the strong tremors here. That day, Connor was the first person to burst out of his classroom, sprint into mine, and wrap his school jacket around my head. He practically dragged and lifted me, pulling me downstairs. That earthquake caused no damage, and my only injury was the bruising on my wrist from his desperate grip. His friends used to tease him, saying I was his most valuable possession. They even joked about us getting married on the spot. I expected Connor to get angry, but instead, he said, “We will get married.”
Oh, come on, don’t speak too soon! You’re still years away from legal age!”
But Connor had declared, “If I get married and she’s not by my side, none of you better show up.”
Chapter 1
But Connor had declared, “If I get married and she’s not by my side, none of you better show up.”
When we married, all his friends came. But what did it matter?
