Chapter 30
This place didn’t feel like home anymore.
Same room, same bed–nothing had changed. But somehow,
everything had.
Lottie reached for her phone on the nightstand and started
mindlessly scrolling through her social media.
Nancy: [Dropped off the best bestie in the whole universe–now
back to drowning in case files.]
A soft smile tugged at Lottie’s lips. She gave it a like.
She kept scrolling–until her thumb froze mid–swipe.
Esther: [You really meant it. You said you’d always protect me,
and you’re always right here when I need you.]
Attached was a photo of her lying in a hospital bed, being fed
fruit.
Only the hand in the frame was visible.
But the long, well–defined fingers, the clean joints, the tiny red
mole near the wrist–Lottie recognized it instantly.
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Nigel.
Without hesitation, she took a screenshot and sent it to him.
[Still at the hospital? I need to talk–can I stop by tomorrow?]
He wasn’t coming home.
That was fine. She didn’t mind being the one to reach out.
Divorce, after all, was freedom–for both of them.
Asrark Airport.
As the plane touched down, Nigel leaned back in his seat and
pressed his fingers to his temple, visibly exhausted.
The roads were quiet at this late hour. The black Maybach
glided smoothly along, passing through pools of amber
streetlight. The soft glow danced across his sharp profile.
Normally elegant and poised, his face now carried a cold, distant
edge.
“Mr. Mathis,” the assistant asked from the front seat, “should we
head to the office or Greenwood Estates?”
“Office first.””
On the day Lottie was discharged from the hospital, there’d
been a fatal incident at the Reim branch of Mathis Group. Nigel
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had flown out immediately to handle it. After days of damage
control and back–to–back meetings, he had just managed to
stabilize the situation.
Meanwhile, back at HQ, work had piled up. He planned to
power through it overnight so his team could resume
operations first thing in the morning.
The entire company’s weight was on his shoulders. He couldn’t
afford to slow down.
His phone lit up beside him.
As he saw Lottie’s name, a breath of relief escaped his lips–quiet,
almost imperceptible.
She hadn’t replied to the messages he’d sent days ago. He’d
assumed she was still upset and had planned to make it up to
her once things settled down.
He opened the message, brow furrowing slightly.
Instead of replying, he made a call–to Esther.
“When was that photo taken?”
Esther was at a bar when she answered. She stepped aside,
seeking a quieter spot. “What photo?”
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Nigel didn’t bother with small talk. His tone was low and
drained. “The photo you just posted.”
Esther paused.
The post had been carefully curated–shared only with a limited
audience. Among everyone connected to the Mathis family,
only Lottie had permission to see it.
That was the point. She’d wanted Lottie to see it.
She’d taken her time setting up the privacy filters. So how did
Nigel find out?
Her silence said it all. Nigel’s voice cooled. “There was no need
for that. Lottie’s not the type to play games.“”
“What are you trying to say?” she snapped.
“I should be asking you that,” he shot back.
“Fine. I did it on purpose!”
She stopped pretending, her voice rising even above the noise of
the bar. Emotion broke through her words. “I wanted her to see
- it. I wanted her to know that the one you care about–the one
you love–is me! I was afraid… afraid that if you two didn’t
divorce soon, you’d start falling for her-”
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“Esther!”
Nigel’s voice cut through the line.
Nigel was starting to lose patience. He loosened his tie with one
hand and said, “Lewis and I are the same age–I practically
watched Lottie grow up. To me, she’s like a little sister. If I had
feelings for her, what would that make me? Some kind of
monster? Can you please be reasonable?”
Esther pressed on. “Then when are you going to divorce her?”
Divorce.
It was the word Nigel had heard more than any other lately.
Everyone seemed to think that divorcing her was the only right
thing to do.
But only he knew–every time he heard that word, it felt like a
weight settled on his chest, making it hard to breathe.
He didn’t even know why exactly. Maybe it was because a
divorce would shake the company’s stock price. Maybe it would
damage Esther’s reputation.
Whatever the reason, one thing was crystal clear to him: He
couldn’t get a divorce.
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The words came out without hesitation, firm and final. “Not
now. Not ever.”
The next morning.
Lottie woke up groggy and glanced at the time, only to see Nigel’s reply.
Nigel: [What is it? I’ll talk to you when I get home tomorrow.]
She knew what that meant. He didn’t want her storming off to confront Esther.
Probably afraid she’d throw another bottle at her head.
Still, that response was good enough for Lottie.
Once he came home and they had it out, she could finally walk away from this house–a house that no longer gave her any sense of safety or peace.
She got up, washed her face, and changed clothes, feeling oddly content. Just as she was about to leave the walk–in closet, she paused and glanced back, something tugging at her thoughts.
Nigel wasn’t exactly the doting husband type. But whenever he needed a partner for a public appearance, he always brought
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Lottie.
Because of that, the walk–in closet was packed with luxury
dresses, jewelry, and handbags.
The Mathis family wasn’t short on money. But after a divorce,
all of it would end up where it always does–at the dump.
So instead…
Lottie reached out to a charity organization and donated everything. The clothes were left for them to sort out, and the proceeds would go toward helping girls in poor areas stay in school.
After packing everything up and asking Corinne to help with the shipment, Lottie finally headed downstairs for breakfast.
As she passed through the living room, she was surprised to see Nigel’s mother Erin sitting there–poised, elegant, and chilly as ever in a Chanel suit, looking like she owned the place.
Lottie blinked and instinctively asked, “Mom, what brings you here?”
Erin waved her over. “Come here.”
On the coffee table sat a gift box–ribbon undone, lid slightly
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askew.
Lottie’s lashes trembled.
She didn’t know whether Nigel had seen the divorce papers yet.
But one thing was certain–his family had.
She walked over to the sofa, drew in a quiet breath, and asked
softly, “You’ve seen it?”
“You want a divorce…”
Erin had never been the overbearing type. Her tone softened as
she gently took Lottie’s hand and motioned for her to sit. “Why
didn’t you say anything to me or Grandma?”
Lottie leaned forward to top off her coffee cup, her expression
calm and composed. “Grandma was just hospitalized. I didn’t
want to bring it up and upset her.”
“And divorcing behind her back wouldn’t affect her health?”
Erin sighed, realizing she might’ve come on too strong. “I know
you’ve always been thoughtful. If you’ve decided to leave, I trust
you have your reasons. But I just want you to think it through.
Are you and Nigel really past the point of no return?”
“Mom…”
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Lottie lowered her gaze to the marble floor, long lashes casting
shadows across her cheeks. She opened her mouth, hesitated,
then finally spoke, voice quiet but clear, “We’ve been married
for three years. And we’ve never once shared a bed.”
