Divorce Me, Mr. Lancaster

Chapter 4

𝐻𝐴𝑁𝑁𝐴𝐻

"Are you sure you want to push through with this?" Mabel asked as she handed me the divorce papers.

I took the papers from her and nodded my head with a smile. "I've been more than sure about this. I'm going to end my marriage with Jacob. It's time I find my own part instead of clinging to a man that never loved me," I said.

"Oh my Hannah. I've never been proud of you like I am today," she smiled, pulling me into a hug.

I hugged her back fully understanding her. My best friend Mabel had been against me marrying Jacob, but because I was too blinded by love, I didn't listen to her.

"So," Mabel said, pulling back with a bright, curious twinkle in her eye. "What's the grand plan once the ink on these papers dries?"

I smoothed down the front of my dress, feeling a spark of actual excitement ignite in my chest. "I'm going to launch my own brand."

Mabel gasped, her jaw dropping. "Wait… don’t tell me you’re finally stepping out of the shadows and becoming a designer?"

"You're the one who always swore I had the talent for it," I laughed softly. "So, yeah. I want to show the world what I can actually do."

"Hallelujah! My best friend finally found her brain again!" Mabel squealed, throwing her hands in the air, making me burst into genuine, helpless laughter.

The second I had married Jacob, he systematically dismantled every dream I ever had. He demanded I play the docile, quiet housewife, openly mocking my design sketches and telling me I lacked the taste to ever make it in the industry.

And like a pathetic, obedient lapdog, I bowed my head, put my sketchbooks in a box, and stayed home—watching on television as he paraded Chloe around high-society galas, never once admitting to the press that he had a wife waiting at home.

"Seriously, Hannah," Mabel said softly, her eyes warming. "I am so damn proud of you."

"Thanks, Mabes. And thank you for being the only person who stayed, even when I was being delusional sometimes."

"Oh, you were definitely delusional," she teased, winking. "Not just sometimes. Every single day."

We both laughed again.

"Does your dad know you're finally putting an end to your marriage with Jacob?" she asked.

"He doesn't have to know. After all he had always wanted Chole to be the one married into the Lancaster family." I replied.

"And Jacob? I heard he was discharged yesterday,"

"I heard that too." I nodded.

"Did he agree to the divorce?" she asked.

My mind drifted back to the conversation I had with him a week ago. He had asked why I wanted to divorce him, but I had been so consumed by a wave of furious resentment that I hadn't even answered him before turning on my heel and walking out.

"Whether he likes it or not, the divorce is pushing through. Moreover, he had agreed to the divorce before he had the accident," I said.

"True," Mabel muttered, shaking her head. "Chloe's always been the one he actually wanted anyway."

I offered a small, detached smile, deliberately burying the memory of how harshly Jacob had thrown Chloe out of his room.

It didn't matter.

The second Chloe started putting on her helpless, sweet act again, Jacob would fall right back into her trap with or without his memory.

A man’s true nature doesn't change just because his brain took a hit.

After Mabel headed back to the law firm where she worked, I drove across town to Jacob's estate.

I couldn't even call it my home, because it had never felt like mine in the first place.

I pushed open the double doors and stepped into the grand foyer. The house was dead quiet. As I walked into the main living area, my steps slowed.

Jacob was standing in the center of the room, staring up at the massive, gilded frame hanging above the fireplace.

It was our wedding portrait.

In the picture, I was beaming, looking up at him with a heart full of pathetic hope.

Jacob looked like he was attending a funeral. He wasn't smiling.

The only reason that portrait was even hanging in the house was because I had spent my own money to commission it, desperately trying to make this cold mansion feel like a home.

"So... you finally decided to drop by?" Jacob asked softly. He didn't turn around immediately, his eyes lingering on the portrait before he slowly turned his body to face me.

I didn't answer. I had nothing to say to him except for him to sign the divorce papers.

"What kind of wife are you, Hannah?" he asked, taking a slow, measured step toward me. "Your husband barely wakes up from a coma, loses his mind, and you completely vanish? Do we really hate each other that much? You need to give me something here, because none of this makes sense."

I wasn't doing this today.

If he needed answers about his old life he should ask his mom or Chloe. There were the most important person to him.

"I didn't come for questioning, Jacob," I said as I pulled out the divorce paper from my bag. "I'm here so you could sign the papers and let's put an end to our marriage.

Jacob’s brows pulled together. "You're still pushing this divorce thing?"

"It's not a 'thing,' Jacob. It's reality," I snapped. "Before your accident, you were already planning on tossing me aside. I'm just speeding up the process."

"Except I don't remember any of that. I woke up in a room full of strangers. You admitted you're my wife. That damn picture on the wall proves we took vows. I don't have a single memory of loving you or hating you, and you walk in here casually demanding we put an end to our marriage?"

"You'll thank me when your memory comes back," I said, my patience snapping as I shoved the folder directly against his chest. "This is what you've wanted for three years. Just sign it."

Jacob looked down at the folder pressed against his shirt. For a split second, I thought he was actually going to take a pen and end it.

Instead, his hands clamped down on the edges of the paper. With a violent, deliberate tear, he ripped the entire document in half, then tore it again, tossing the shredded white pieces onto the floor between us.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I shrieked.

"What is wrong with me?" he repeated, stepping directly into my space until there wasn't a single inch of air left between us. "You are being completely unfair, Hannah! I am not signing a damn thing until you look me in the eye and tell me why you're so desperate to end our marriage!"

"You want to know why?!" I yelled back, snapping under the pressure and shoving his chest with all my strength to push him back. "Because you were the most vile, soul-crushing husband any woman could ever be cursed with! You treated me like dirt under your shoe! You monster!"

My throat choked up, hot, stinging tears threatening to spill over my lashes. I squeezed my eyes shut, furious with myself. I had sworn on my life that I would never, ever shed another tear over Jacob Lancaster.

"I was a bad husband?" he murmured, looking at me as if the concept was physically alien to him. "I... I don't remember hurting you."

"Of course you don't!" I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "You get to hide behind your convenient amnesia while I'm the one left carrying the scars! That’s the most agonizing part of this whole damn nightmare!"

I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to regain my composure. "We never had a real marriage, Jacob. It was a loveless, toxic cage."

"Then why did you trap yourself in it?" he asked softly, a raw, piercing curiosity in his voice. "You told me you sacrificed a piece of your own body... your kidney, just to force me to marry you. If I was such a monster... why did you do it?"

"Because I was stupid," I admitted. "It was the biggest mistake of my life. But I'm fixing it now. I'll bring fresh papers tomorrow, and I expect you to act like a man and sign them."

I spun on my heel, rushing toward the door to escape before I completely broke down.

Before I could take three steps, his hand clamped around my wrist.

"Let go of me, Jacob! Get your hands off me!" I yelled, struggling against his grip.

His fingers loosened slightly, but he didn’t let go.

"I'm not signing anything, Hannah," he stated. "If I was really that terrible to you, then I need to remember it. I need to know who I was. But until every last memory comes back into my head... we’re not getting divorced.”