Chapter 3 Refusing to Let Him Go
1283 Words
"I regret it... suddenly, I feel like our marriage wasn't that bad after all..."
She was just about to go on.
"You don't need to say this." His voice was low. "You've endured long enough-I should've let go sooner."
The silence between them thickened, like the air had turned too heavy to breathe.
Delia was starting to panic. "I don't want to leave. Babe, I just want to be with you."
Curtis's reaction threw her completely off.
In desperation, she said it-"babe."
Sure enough, Curtis froze for a split second.
"Babe, come on, we're husband and wife-when was there ever any real grudge?" Delia tried to keep the momentum going. "I kissed you, didn't I?"
Curtis hesitated, caught totally off guard. The words he meant to say got stuck in his throat.
He stared at the woman in front of him, a mix of disbelief and confusion in his eyes.
Had she completely lost it?
Even though, deep down, being called that did stir a little something in him.
But he quickly got a grip and said slowly, "Delia, I know you've been waiting for this moment."
He backed up about half a meter in his wheelchair.
"I'm sorry we dragged this out so long. I know it frustrated you."
Right as the words left his mouth, hurried footsteps echoed from down the hallway.
Delia's heart sank.
Noah Hyde was approaching with a document in hand.
He spotted Delia blocking the doorway and his face instantly darkened. Almost like pure instinct, he lunged forward, positioning himself squarely between her and Curtis.
"Miss Fleming," Noah said tightly, anger simmering just beneath the surface, though his tone still showed restraint. "What are you trying to do now? The divorce papers are ready. Please don't push Mr. Stockton any further."
Noah was practically boiling on the inside.
He'd seen how much Curtis had given for this woman-and how much heartbreak she'd handed back in return.
The endless outbursts, the cruel words, even using suicide to force a breakup.
And now that her demands were finally being met, she showed up pretending to be the wronged party?
He couldn't wrap his head around why Curtis still tolerated her.
Even going as far as warning him: no matter what Delia did, no one was allowed to touch a hair on her head.
She didn't deserve a fraction of Curtis's kindness...
But Curtis raised a hand, signaling him to stand down.
"It's okay. Step back," he said calmly.
He took the divorce papers from Noah and rolled forward, holding them out to Delia.
She stared at the cold, emotionless paper.
In her last life, signing those had been the moment she unknowingly pushed away the man who loved her most.
It had been the gateway into a nightmare carefully crafted by Isabelle and Nathan.
That regret now hit hard-her hands trembled uncontrollably, and her eyes shimmered with tears.
She looked at Curtis, pleading silently with her gaze.
But what she felt inside, Curtis read differently.
To him, she just seemed overly emotional. Like even sharing the same room with him was torture.
Like she couldn't wait to be done with this so she could finally breathe.
So, in her eyes, he saw joy-joy at being free.
Maybe, to her, he was just some heavy baggage she was finally ditching.
The sting in his chest spread like wildfire, sharp and bitter.
Any trace of hesitation disappeared completely.
Curtis's expression fell. He withdrew the papers sharply.
"Seems like you really are happy to get divorced. Fine. The sooner it's done, the better-for both of us."
He turned toward Noah. "Pen."
Noah immediately handed over an expensive fountain pen with both hands.
Curtis took the pen, flipped straight to the last page of the agreement, and signed his name cleanly without a pause.
Once done, he handed the papers back to Delia.
"Here. Sign it."
Signing meant they'd be completely done. No turning back.
Delia still remembered the mess she made in her past life.
Choosing to leave Curtis, betraying him, and in the end... disfigured, ruined, with nothing left.
No way she was signing that thing. No chance.
She clenched her jaw, staring right at Curtis.
"Honey, I'm not signing."
"Let's say I never brought it up, okay? And if you keep pushing it... I might just kiss you again."
She folded her arms across her chest stubbornly, her lips twitching into a defiant line. She meant it.
Curtis froze mid-motion, the papers still in hand.
A faint blush slipped onto his face.
Why did that freaking weird kiss just pop into his head again?
Curtis narrowed his eyes and drew in a long breath, then looked straight at Delia's face.
Something felt off.
Before, all she ever did was cry and throw tantrums to force him to let go-so she could leave.
But now? She was digging in her heels, refusing to let go. That didn't feel fake.
She even kissed him... and made that weird threat to do it again.
Could she actually mean it?
But just as soon as the idea took shape, Curtis brutally shut it down.
He couldn't afford that kind of hope. Not again. Every time he reached for it, it just led to more pain.
He let out a tired sigh.
"So what is it that you really want now?"
"Curtis... I was blinded before. I get it now. Let me stay with you, okay?"
Delia looked up at him like she was on the edge of crying, voice soft but firm, eyes full of desperate sincerity.
Curtis didn't say a word for a good while. His gaze was dark, searching her, almost like trying to read her mind.
Then he finally looked away.
He shoved the signed agreement into Noah's hands.
Noah stepped forward immediately, perfectly cutting off Delia.
"Miss Fleming, please sign here."
He just didn't get it.
This woman hurt Curtis over and over, and now here she was, playing the "I'm so sorry, I love you" card again.
And for some reason, Curtis was still giving her another chance.
Delia didn't even glance at the pen. She slapped it right out of his hand.
The pen hit the ground, bounced a few times, and let out a crisp clatter.
"I said I'm not signing." Delia looked past Noah and locked eyes with Curtis, who sat silently in his wheelchair.
"Can you leave us alone for a minute? I've got something personal to say to my husband."
She knew Curtis wouldn't kick her out. Not completely. Not yet.
Noah's brows furrowed tight. He was ready to say no on instinct.
He'd seen too many sides of this woman-how fast she could flip from one extreme to the other.
Leaving Curtis alone with her? No telling what chaos she'd stir up.
He opened his mouth to protest-but didn't get the chance.
"Noah," Curtis's voice cut in, low and steady, "go wait in the car."
"Boss-!" Noah blurted out.
Right... on paper, he was just Curtis's bodyguard-s***h-driver.
Almost let something slip just then.
Curtis raised a hand, shutting that down quickly.
"I said, go wait in the car."
Noah clamped his mouth shut, shot Delia a sharp glare, but didn't push it further.
He bent down, picked up the pen, then shuffled out the door, glancing back every few steps.
Curtis turned his wheelchair to face Delia again, staring at her quietly.
She'd asked for the divorce, now backtracked, cried all over him, swore she wouldn't leave.
Even kissed him. And now? She kept looking at him like she'd do it again.
His jaw tightened.
"If you've got something to say, say it now."
Delia's heart pounded in her chest like a drum.
- Writer
