Chapter 3
Esme stared down at the freshly signed divorce papers, her heart squeezed tight by something invisible.
So Joy had really gone through with it.-
Fine.
Now, the two of them could play happy family with their soon–to–be baby, and as for her, starting today, she’d finally live just for herself.
“Esme, what’s the one gift you want most?” Liam suddenly leaned in, frowning a little. “How come I’ve never heard you mention it?”
He reached for the papers, but she was quicker, tucking them out of sight.
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re keeping secrets from me now?”
Esme gave a half–smile, her voice cool. “Didn’t you keep secrets from me, too? Like hiding the fact that she was three months pregnant–until I literally stumbled onto it?”
Liam’s face went pale. He glanced at Joy, dropping his voice. “We agreed not to bring that up anymore. I told you why I had to keep the baby…”
He hesitated, then his tone softened. “I only kept it from you because I was scared you’d leave me.”
Scared she’d leave, huh?
Liam, the things you’re most afraid of losing always end up slipping away.
Suddenly, Joy’s eyes filled with tears. “It’s all my fault… I never should’ve been with you that night, or let Grandma Mitchell find out about the baby… I never meant to ruin your marriage, I swear, I didn’t…”
Her tears clung to her lashes, as if she’d never been more hurt.
Liam turned instantly, his voice gentle in a way Esme hardly recognized. “Don’t say that. How could this be your fault?”
Esme couldn’t stand another second. She turned to leave.
That’s when Liam finally snapped out of it and rushed after her. “Esme, where are you going?”
“Out. I have something to take care of.”
He frowned. “It’s pouring outside. Let me drive you.”
Before she could answer, he turned back to the housekeeper, firing off instructions: “Joy can’t get near cold water. Raise the room temp by two degrees. She hasn’t been eating
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Chapter 3
well–make some soup, but no parley in it…”
He went on for ten minutes, covering every little detail, terrified of missing anything that might harm Joy or the baby.
Esme just stood by the door, quietly watching.
Finally, he finished and hurried to the car. She watched him, and a small smile broke through. “Liam, you’re going to make a great dad.”
He froze, clearly not expecting that.
He grabbed her wrist, pain flickering in his eyes. “Esme, you know the only child I’ll ever see as mine is the one you’d give me. You know I never had a choice–please, don’t say stuff like that.”
His palm was still as warm as ever, but she could no longer feel it.
Esme didn’t reply. She just turned to stare out the rain–splattered window.
The car was filled with heavy silence.
As they pulled onto the road, Liam tried to break the tension. “So, Esme, what do you need to do at Peace Avenue in this kind of weather?”
She was about to answer when his phone rang.
“Mr. Mitchell… my stomach really hurts…” Joy’s voice was trembling and teary through the speaker.
Liam’s face changed instantly. “It’s okay. I’ll be right back!”
He turned to Esme, looking apologetic. “We’re almost at Peace Avenue. Can you get a cab
from here?”
“Yeah.” Her voice was steady as she stepped out.
The rain came down hard, soaking her in seconds. She stood on the curb, watching his car speed away, and suddenly she laughed.
You almost found out what I was really up to, Liam.
The storm was wild and there wasn’t a cab in sight. Esme walked alone through the downpour, her umbrella snapping in the wind, rain and tears blurring everything.
By the time she got to the civil affairs office, she was drenched and shivering–except for the divorce papers, which were dry and perfect in her hands.
“Hi, I’m here for a divorce,” she said, passing them over.
The clerk looked her up and down, then glanced at the paperwork. “After a month, you can come back for your certificate.”
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Chapter 3
When she stepped outside, the rain had stopped.
Esme looked up at the suddenly bright sky, feeling a little of the ache in her chest fade
away.
Maybe, she thought, life after divorce would be just like this–calmer, clearer, a little more hopeful each day.
Back at the villa, the house was empty.
Upstairs, she heard Liam’s gentle voice: “Once upon a time, there was a little prince who met a fox…
He was reading a story to Joy, for the baby’s sake.
Esme felt dizzy. She crawled into bed and pulled the covers over her head. She had no idea how long she slept, but when she woke, her throat was on fire.
“Water…” she called, over and over, but all she heard was laughter and stories coming from the next room.
“Mr. Mitchell, I hope the baby takes after you–so smart and handsome…” Joy’s voice was
sugar–sweet.
“Don’t put yourself down,” Liam’s chuckle drifted through the wall. “You’re wonderful too–kind, gentle, sweet…
Even without seeing them, Esme could imagine Joy’s blushing face. They sounded like a real couple, dreaming about their future.
Esme forced herself to sit up and reach for her water glass, but her hand was too weak,
and she knocked it off the table.
Glass shattered everywhere. She knelt to pick up the pieces, but her vision went black and she collapsed onto the floor.
Shards of glass dug into her palm, blood trickling out. Gritting her teeth, she cleaned up the mess, patched herself up, found some fever meds, and swallowed them.
All the while, the laughter from next door never stopped.
Back in bed, Esme suddenly remembered her college days–how, when she’d gotten sick, Liam had climbed the dorm fence just to stay by her side for three straight nights.
Back then, he’d grabbed her hand, his eyes red, and whispered, “Esme, when you’re hurting, it hurts me even more.”
But now? Liam, do you even remember saying that?
Her tears soaked into her pillow, silent and endless. She closed her eyes and let the
darkness take her under.
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