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1125 Words
The rain had finally subsided by the time Lisa got home, leaving the night damp and cold. The streetlights reflected weakly off the wet pavement, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to hope.
Then she saw Xavier’s car.
It was parked right in front of the gate, its headlights already off as if it had been waiting for a while. Her heart skipped painfully. Instinctively, her fingers tightened around the papers in her hand—the thin folder that now carried the weight of her entire life.
This was it.
She stepped out of Terrace’s car, whispering for him to wait for her there and forcing herself to stand straight. She had rehearsed this moment in her head during the drive, but now that Xavier was actually here, all that courage slipped through her fingers like water.
Xavier stepped out of his car and walked toward her.
The distance between them felt impossibly small.
Suddenly, she was aware of how cold she was, how tired her body felt, how badly she wanted to turn around and run. She hated herself for it; she hated that, after everything, fear still had such a tight grip on her.
“Seems you found your way home,” Xavier said coolly.
His gaze shifted past her, landing on Terrace. His lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “With just about the last person I’d want to see you with tonight.”
Lisa blinked.
He wasn’t shouting. He wasn’t furious. In fact, he was disturbingly calm.
The usual Xavier would have dragged her inside by now, slammed doors, raised his voice, maybe even hurt someone to make a point. This version—quiet, controlled, was far more terrifying.
“I didn’t come to stay,” Lisa said.
Xavier raised an eyebrow, silently demanding an explanation.
Her throat tightened, but she held out the folder anyway. The same one she’d clutched from the hospital to the car, from the car to the gate. Her hands trembled as she passed it to him.
This was really the end.
And despite everything, despite the years of neglect, the control, the silent cruelty—her heart still ached.
She hated that part of herself the most.
Xavier snatched the file and opened it. His eyes scanned the bold text. He didn’t flip through the pages. He didn’t need to.
Two seconds.
That was all it took.
But to Lisa, it felt like hours.
She watched his face carefully, waiting for the explosion, for denial, for rage. Instead, he looked at her—really looked at her like he was trying to calculate something.
He could tell. If he pushed the right buttons, if he spoke the right words, she might still come back with him.
“A divorce?” he said finally. “All of a sudden? Tonight?”
He scoffed softly. “Let me guess. Is Terrace part of this brilliant plan?”
“This has nothing to do with Terrace,” Lisa replied.
“If not, then what?” Xavier exhaled, rubbing his temples. “I’ll increase your monthly allowance if that’s what you want.”
“No,” she said. “That’s not it.”
That seemed to frustrate him more than anything else.
Xavier had never had to appease her before. Lisa had always complied, always adjusted herself to fit into the space he allowed her to exist in.
“Fine,” he said at last. “Get in first. We’ll talk inside.”
“I can’t do that either.”
His jaw tightened. “Then what exactly do you want, Lisa Aniston?”
His voice cracked just enough for her to notice. It was the first time in three years she had heard something close to concern.
The irony almost made her laugh.
Her mind drifted, uninvited, to the first time she fainted during their marriage.
She’d woken up in a hospital bed, the sterile lights glaring down at her. Xavier had been standing beside the window, on his phone.
“You’re alive,” he’d said when he noticed she was awake. “The doctors said you’ll be fine.”
He’d pocketed his phone, straightened his coat. “Get enough rest. Kristian will be outside. Go home when you’re ready.”
And then he left.
He never came back.
She’d woken up alone in that large VIP room, surrounded by machines instead of people. That was when she understood, truly understood, that whatever they had was never love.
Standing there now, soaked in cold air and memories, Lisa knew that this decision was no longer just about her. It was about her child.
“I want a divorce,” she said quietly.
“Don’t be emotional about this—”
“I’m not,” she interrupted, shocking even herself. “I mean it this time.”
“And I said I’m not letting you go,” Xavier snapped. “What’s the issue? Is it because you’ve got a new boyfriend now?”
He grabbed her arm suddenly, pulling her closer. His grip was tight, possessive. “If you care about your little boyfriend, you’d better stay put.”
“Let go of her.”
Terrace moved fast, pulling Lisa out of Xavier’s grasp and placing himself between them.
Xavier’s expression darkened, though his voice remained eerily calm. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“I’ll be the father of the baby,” Terrace said.
The words hung heavily in the air.
“Father?” Xavier repeated slowly. “What baby?”
Terrace turned to Lisa, confusion flickering across his face. “You didn’t tell him?”
Lisa’s heart dropped.
She opened her mouth, scrambling for something, anything that could fix this, but it was already too late. Xavier had connected the dots in his own way.
She saw it in his eyes.
Disgust and contempt. To him, she was already guilty.
“Oh,” Xavier said softly. “I see what’s going on now.”
He looked almost relieved.
“I’ll send your signed documents first thing tomorrow,” he continued. “No—better yet.”
He pulled a pen from his pocket, flipped through the papers, and scribbled his signature with angry, careless strokes.
Then he flung the documents at her.
The pages were scattered across the wet ground.
Lisa stood frozen as Xavier turned and walked away without another glance.
Just like that.
As the gate closed behind him, the truth hit her harder than any slap ever could.
Xavier Saxton was heartless. He would rather abandon her in jealousy than take a moment to hear the truth. Her fingers curled slowly into fists.
You will regret this, Xavier, she thought.
I will make you regret this.
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