The Billionaire’s regretful ex

"Let's divorce." The words rolled off his tongue so effortlessly that my heart clenched. I stood there frozen, my eyes fixed on him, silently praying to God that he was joking, that I had heard him wrong. His fingers tapped the divorce papers on the table, drawing my attention back to them as if to emphasize his point. "You can ask for anything you want. I won’t treat you unfairly," he said calmly. "D-Divorce papers?" I stammered, reading the words aloud, my voice trembling. The letters seemed to mock me. For a moment, I couldn’t process what was happening. My eyes wandered to the several burnt-out cigars on the ashtray, a sign he had been waiting for me for a long time. No wonder. It all made sense now. When I came back from work and saw the house lit up instead of the usual darkness that greeted me, a part of me had been hopeful. I had been foolish enough to believe that my husband had remembered my birthday. I thought he was going to celebrate it, that maybe he had a surprise for me. And he did. Just not the kind I was hoping for. My eyes burned with tears as I silently picked up the divorce papers from the table. My hands trembled as I stared at them, my voice breaking as I asked the one question that plagued my mind. “Why?” “Why?” he repeated, his tone filled with surprise, as if the answer should be obvious. It was as though I was a fool for even asking. “Olivia, you and I both know this marriage wasn’t consensual. Tell me, what’s the point in keeping it going?” His words hurt my heart, shattering it into a thousand pieces. He wasn’t wrong. Our marriage had never been born of love. It was the will of our grandfathers, a simple transaction between two old friends to merge the families. I had always known Theo didn’t love me, perhaps because his heart belonged to someone else. But I had hoped, foolishly, that over the years we had built something. Something beyond the wishes of our grandfathers. If not love, then at least understanding. Familiarity. Maybe even comfort. How wrong I was. Theo looked at me then. If he noticed the pain in my eyes, he didn’t show it. And even if he did, his expression told me he didn’t care. “What happened that night…” he began, his jaw tightening, “it shouldn’t have.” I knew exactly what he was talking about. That night when we were both so drunk, when we had let our guards down and ended up making a mistake. A mistake that happened during his grandfather’s birthday. A mistake that changed everything. "You and I both know we don’t want children. I hope you took the necessary precautions?" he asked, his tone so casual it stunned me into silence. I didn’t know how to respond. He let out a sigh as he stood up. “I am sure if something happens, you will know how to take care of it.” His coldness shattered me. He had always been indifferent, but why did it hurt so much more this time? Was it because it came with the divorce settlement? I opened my mouth to say something, but he cut me off immediately. “It’s an amicable divorce, by the way,” he said, pausing to look at me with an unreadable expression. “This house will be yours, and i wil compensate you with 30 million. Like I said, I won’t treat you unfairly.” My hands trembled as I flipped through the pages of the divorce papers. The words blurred through my teary vision, but I understood the message loud and clear. Theo wanted me out of his life, permanently. I raised my head, forcing myself to look at him. Tears I had been trying so hard to hold back clung to my lashes, blurring my view of his cold, emotionless stare. He didn’t care. He never had. His phone buzzed, breaking the silence. He glanced at the screen, his attention shifting instantly. “I have something to attend to,” he said curtly, turning away. “If what I offered isn’t enough, you can ask for more. One of my lawyers will contact you soon. Discuss the rest with him.” He walked towards the door, leaving me clutching the papers, my heart breaking into pieces I wasn’t sure I could ever put back together. My fingers trembled, my heart hurting as his cold words echoed in my ears. “Oh, and yes, after the divorce, I don’t want any unwelcome news about us getting out. We have to be more distant than ever. I am sure you understand.” And with that, he left. The divorce papers slipped from my hands as I stood there, frozen in place. Tears rolled down my cheeks, unstoppable, as shock and pain took over me. My mind struggled to process what had just happened. My gaze shifted to the sss package sitting in the corner of the room. It had arrived earlier that day, and I hadn’t had the chance to open it. It was a small decoration, something I had planned to use to celebrate with him. I had thought we would celebrate together, maybe share the little cake sitting in the fridge. I had spent hours baking it, even though I wasn’t much of a baker. It wasn’t perfect, but it was mine. I had wanted to share something personal with him, something that came from my heart. And now, this. Now, there was nothing to celebrate. I crumbled to the floor, the tears still falling, some dripping onto the divorce papers and smudging the ink. My trembling hands picked them up again, my eyes scanning the words over and over, hoping it was all just a cruel dream. But it wasn’t. It was real. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. More tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I whispered to myself, “Happy birthday, Olivia. Happy birthday to you…”