Chapter 7.
Mason turned to me with disbelief written across his face. “You told Grandpa about the abortion?”
Before I could answer, my mother jumped in, her eyes red and voice breaking: “I told him! What, my daughter suffers this much and I’m not supposed to tell your grandfather about it?”
Looking at my heartbroken parents, I thought about myself on that operating table. Even then, I felt
gut–wrenching sadness for an unformed life. For my parents, it was their living, breathing daughter being mistreated right under their noses. I couldn’t imagine how many tears they’d shed in private
over the years because of my situation with Mason.
I wiped the blood–mixed tears from my face and said to Grandpa Reed:
“It’s okay, Grandpa. I don’t need to hold a grudge against Mason. I just want a divorce.”
“Mason, sign the papers.”
I picked up the scattered divorce documents and handed them to him. But the moment he took them, he crumpled them into a ball and tossed them aside.
“Aria, I never said I wanted a divorce.”
“Haven’t I told you? After Kinsley has the baby, I’ll make everything up to you.”
This was the third time he’d said those words.
If his idea of “making it up to me” meant locking me in a room for three days without food or water
right after my abortion–all to force me to make Kinsley a dress–then throwing a blood–stained dress in my face, I’d rather have nothing from him.
“No thanks, Mason. Let’s just get divorced.”
“But before I go, I need to clear my name and
my name and my mother’s.”
Then I pulled out my phone and found my chat history with my classmate, playing the packaging
video for Mason to see.
“Look, before it was sent, the dress was in perfect condition. And nowhere in our conversation did I
ask him to stain it with blood.”
16:17 O
The Divorce Bet Ite Made to Mock Me, Now I Cashed It In
58.39
Chapter 7
“And regarding both Kinsley’s miscarriage and her fallopian tube removal–my mother was only
fulfilling her duty as a doctor. Whether you believe it or not, she can face her conscience with a clear heart.”
After hearing me out, Mason’s eyes turned red. He couldn’t read the emotion in my gaze as tears streamed down his face, beyond his control.
But I felt nothing inside anymore. I took my parents‘ hands to leave, but my mother gently tapped my hand and said: “Wait.”
After that, she pulled out her phone and brought up surveillance footage and a consultation record, then showed them to Mason.
“I know you’ve harbored resentment toward me for years. You wouldn’t believe anything my daughter said.”
“This is the surveillance footage from our medical consultation. The audio and video are crystal clear–I had a technician recover it. As for the consultation results, Kinsley knows them better than anyone.”
“After you see this, please stop treating me and Aria like villains.”
It turned out that after I told my mother about the divorce, she had immediately contacted a friend at the surveillance center, begging them to recover footage from two years ago.
She knew Mason didn’t trust me and had used this against me throughout our marriage. She was determined to prove to him, once and for all, that I wasn’t the person he thought I was.
And my father, who had been away on business, immediately bought a plane ticket home after receiving the news. His first stop after landing was Grandpa Reed’s place. He knew that for my divorce to proceed smoothly, I needed to speak with Grandpa, since he had raised Mason. The only way to ensure a clean break was for Grandpa to witness his grandson’s mistakes firsthand.
Now Mason stood frozen like a joke, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he struggled to form a complete sentence. All he could manage was my name: “Aria… darling…”
This was the first time Mason had ever called me such an endearing term–but it came too late.
My heart had already turned into still water, emotionless and dead.
16:17
