MY HUSBAND LOVE ME TOO LATE

CHAPTER FOUR

Emma's POV

If I was honest with myself, she was right.

So why did my chest tighten so painfully that I could barely breathe?

Then a thought struck me.

Wait… was she the one who had left Lucas' study unlocked on purpose?

"You left the drawer open," I said. My voice trembled, but not from sadness anymore. A hot, burning anger was beginning to spread through my chest. "You went into his private study and left it open for me to find?"

Sophia smiled sweetly. "Lucas doesn't hide things from me, Emma. He never has. I wanted you to see it so you'd finally understand your place in this house." Her smile widened. "Common… you're just a temporary placeholder."

My hands curled into tight fists, my nails digging painfully into my palms. "I am his wife.”

"Only on paper," Sophia sang with a light, cruel laugh. "Look around you, Emma. Look at this mansion. Look at his family. Even at little Lily…. In just a few days, I've taken back everything that was always meant to be mine. Lily already wishes I were her mother."

Hearing Lily's name on her lips made my blood boil.

"Don't talk about my daughter," I warned.

"Your daughter?" Sophia mocked, tilting her head. "She's Lucas's daughter too. Besides, she's adopted. Soon, she'll be calling me Mommy. Give it a few more weeks, Emma, and she won't even remember you. She already prefers me." Her smile turned colder. "It's so easy to erase you from their lives."

I snapped.

Before I could stop myself, my hand flew across her face.

Smack!!

The sharp crack echoed through the kitchen.

Sophia stumbled sideways, one hand flying to her burning cheek. Her eyes widened in shock before fury replaced the surprise.

"You—"

She lunged at me, her hand raised. I caught her wrist before it could reach me and shoved it away. She came at me again, and this time I grabbed a fistful of her blonde hair, yanking her back so hard she gasped.

"Ah!"

She clawed at my hand, twisting and struggling to break free, but I refused to let go. My heart pounded violently as months of swallowed pain and humiliation exploded out of me.

"Don't you ever speak about my daughter again," I hissed through gritted teeth.

Sophia winced, tears springing to her eyes. Unable to pull herself free, she suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs. "Lucas! Help! Somebody, help me!"

I prayed no one would hear her. But within moments, heavy footsteps thundered down the hallway.

"What the hell is going on here?"

I let go of Sophia at once and turned toward the voice. Lucas stood frozen in the kitchen doorway, his dark eyes sweeping over us.

The moment Sophia saw him, she stumbled backward and collapsed against the kitchen island. She buried her face in her hands and broke into loud, heartbroken sobs.

"Lucas!" she cried out, her voice trembling perfectly. She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face, showing off the bright red mark on her cheek.

Lucas rushed to her side instantly, completely ignoring me. He wrapped his strong arm around Sophia's shoulders, shielding her. "Sophy, are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice full of deep concern.

"I... I am so sorry," Sophia sobbed, clutching his shirt. "I was just trying to help. Emma started yelling at Lily because she was playing with me. I told Emma not to take her anger out on a child... and then she told me to pack my bags and get out of her house."

I stared at her in pure shock. "That’s a lie!" I shouted, taking a step forward. "Lucas, she is lying to you! She just told me—"

"Enough, Emma!" Lucas roared, his voice shook the room. I stopped dead in my tracks.

Lucas turned to me, his gray eyes as cold as ice. There was no love in them. No understanding. No patience. Only disappointment and anger. He looked at me as though I were a complete stranger... as though I were the monster in the room. I’d never seen him look at me that way before.

"You slapped our guest?" he asked, his voice dangerously low. "You actually raised your hand and struck her?"

"She provoked me!" I argued desperately, my heart pounding against my ribs. "Lucas, you don't know what she just said to me. She told me she was going to take Lily away. She left your private notebook out for me to find!"

Lucas shook his head in absolute disgust. "Are you really going to make up crazy lies to cover up your jealousy? Sophia has done nothing but try to be kind to you since she arrived. And you repay her by physically attacking her in our own home?"

"Lucas, please, you have to listen to me—"

"I said enough!" he snapped coldly.

He looked down at Sophia, who was still crying softly against his chest, then back at me. "Your behavior is completely uncouth, Emma. I thought you were a mature, gentle woman, but you are acting like a bitter, jealous child."

Every word he spoke felt like a heavy stone crushing my chest. He didn't even doubt her for a second. He took her side without a single question.

"You have crossed a major line today," Lucas continued sharply. "Because of this childish stunt, that private dinner I promised you for this weekend? It’s not happening. I am canceling it."

I stared at him in stunned silence. The dinner he promised to make up for ruining our anniversary. He was taking it away to punish me, like I was a disobedient child. Pathetic.

"You're canceling it?" I whispered, my voice breaking.

"Yes," he said firmly. "You need to think about what you have done."

Just then, the kitchen door swung open again. Claire rushed into the kitchen, her eyes wide with drama.

"Oh my god! What happened?" Claire gasped. She ran over to Sophia and saw the red mark on her face. "Sophia! Did she hit you?"

"It's fine, Claire," Sophia cried weakly. "I just want to go to my room."

Claire turned her head and glared at me with pure hatred. "You are an absolute animal, Emma," she spat. "We always knew you were just a cheap gold digger, but this? Resorting to violence because you know my brother actually loves Sophia? You are pathetic."

"Claire, enough," Lucas said, though his voice was not very harsh. "Take Sophia to the guest wing. Get her some ice."

"Come on, Sophy," Claire said softly, wrapping her arm around the crying woman. She threw one last dirty look at me. "You don't belong in this family, Emma. You never did."

They walked out of the kitchen together. Lucas stood there for a moment, looking at me.

I waited for him to defend me. I waited for him to say that his sister was wrong. But he said nothing. He just shook his head in disappointment, turned his back on me, and walked away.

I was left completely alone in the large, silent kitchen. I didn't cry. My eyes remained dry. The crushing sadness that had lived inside me for the past three years seemed to disappear all at once, replaced by a cold, quiet clarity.

Without another glance around the room, I turned and walked out of the kitchen. I climbed the grand staircase one step at a time, feeling lighter than I had in a very long time. I passed Lily's room. Then Lucas's study. Finally, I stepped into our bedroom and quietly locked the door.

Crossing the room, I stopped at the small wooden desk tucked into the corner. I opened the bottom drawer and took out a brand-new notebook along with my favorite black pen. I flipped to the first blank page and rested the tip of the pen against the paper.

For the first time in three years, I wasn't waiting for Lucas to choose me. I was choosing myself.

Slowly, I wrote a single sentence in bold, dark ink.

Divorce Countdown—180 Days.

Six months. That was all the time I’d be needing to completely separate my life from his. Six months to secure my hidden funds, to finalize my upcoming architecture projects under the name Architect E, and to make sure I left the Ashford family with absolutely nothing of mine.

If Lucas Ashford wanted his precious first love, he could have her. I was done fighting a war I had already lost three years ago.

I closed the notebook and hid it safely in my locked drawer.

Later that night, the bedroom was dark and completely quiet. I lay on my side of our massive bed, facing the large glass window. The city lights of New York glowed softly in the distance.

I kept my eyes closed, despite finding it hard to sleep.

Around midnight, the bedroom door quietly opened. I heard Lucas' heavy footsteps sink into the soft carpet, followed by the rustle of his expensive suit as he took it off. A moment later, the shower started running, and finally fell silent a few minutes later.

The mattress dipped behind me as Lucas climbed into bed. He let out a long, weary sigh. For a while, he simply lay behind me in silence.

"Emma," he said softly into the darkness. "I know you're awake."

I didn't answer. I kept my eyes closed and my breathing slow and even, refusing to let him know I’d heard a single word.

He moved closer to my side of the bed. "I am sorry for raising my voice at you in the kitchen today," he said, voice low, almost gentle. "I shouldn't have yelled at you in front of everyone."

For a split second, a tiny part of me wanted to turn around. But then he kept talking.

"But you have to understand, Emma… you shouldn't have slapped her. Sophia is going through a hard time right now. She is all alone in this city. She means no harm to you or our marriage. It really isn't bad for her to stay here with us for a while. You just need to be a little more welcoming."

He was apologizing for yelling, but he was still defending the woman who was actively trying to destroy me. He still thought I was the villain.

I kept my eyes shut, ignoring him completely without moving a single muscle.

Lucas let out another heavy sigh. "Don't be like this, Emma. Let's not go to sleep angry."

I felt the sudden warmth of his large hand as it settled softly on my waist. His fingers lightly traced the curve of my hip through my thin silk nightgown. He pulled his body closer to mine until his broad chest pressed against my back.

"Come here," he whispered, his voice suddenly dropping lower, huskier.

He leaned his face forward. I felt his warm breath brush against my neck. His lips pressed a soft, lingering kiss against my

bare shoulder as his hand slowly slid from my waist, moving upwards along my stomach, caressing my skin.

Was he trying to get intimate with me?