Embraced by My Ex's Uncle

Chapter 3 It Doesn’t Matter Anymore

Elizabeth's POV:

My heart sank.

My nails dug into my palms as I overheard the pitying voices of the two people beside me. I couldn’t bear to listen anymore, my face pale.

Logic told me I shouldn’t keep feeling sorry for Bradley.

But emotions didn’t just disappear in an instant.

I was still hurt by those words.

But it would be fine. Time would heal everything.

I forced myself to focus on my work, trying to push away the swirling emotions.

After this weekend, everything would be over.

Once I got through the weekend, I’d be able to sever ties with Bradley for good.

Finally, the weekend passed, and the day to meet him for the divorce came.

I stood in the cold wind, waiting for him, but he never came home.

His phone went unanswered, and there were no messages. There was no sign of him.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, the phone rang. It was Bradley’s friend, Vincent.

I picked up the phone, and his words hit me like a hammer.

"Elizabeth, Bradley is at my place drinking, and his heart condition flared up. I can't find the medication he usually takes. You need to get here fast. He’s barely hanging on."

Bradley had a congenital heart condition. As long as he took care of himself, he’d be fine.

In the past, I would have been frantic, doing everything I could to soothe him because I was so worried about his health.

But then I remembered—what did it matter now?

“If it’s that serious, call 911. What do you want from me?”

My voice was cold, without a hint of concern, and Vincent was taken aback.

He double-checked the number on his phone, making sure he hadn’t dialed wrong, and then his frustration burst out.

"Elizabeth! How could you just leave him like this? How can you just watch him suffer?!"

I replied in a calm tone, "Tell him if he can’t die, then either come over and sign the divorce papers or we can set another date. And don’t forget—I want my 50 bucks back!"

A half-day off, a 50-dollar wage deduction, and yet he still didn’t show up.

That damn man!

Without hesitation, I hung up the phone. Vincent muttered under his breath, looking at Bradley. “Your wife is really heartless.”

Bradley’s face remained expressionless as he stayed silent. Vincent saw this and didn’t argue further, turning to dial 911.

Then, as if a thought struck him, he paused and added, “Oh, right. Your wife asked you to transfer her 50 bucks.”

Lying in the hospital bed, Bradley let out a sharp laugh. “See? She can't live without me. Now she’s asking for 50 bucks.”

He propped himself up, staring at the chaos in the room caused by Vincent’s search, his cold eyes gleaming with a hint of satisfaction. “You think she's not just playing the victim?”

“Vincent, just wait. She’ll come back.”

Vincent finished his call and noticed Bradley’s smug expression, tilting his head slightly. “I heard she’s working at a coffee shop. Do you think it’s possible she’s losing money by taking time off?”

Bradley sneered and turned his back on Vincent.

Meanwhile, I rushed back to the shop, fuming at the thought of losing half a day’s wages because of Bradley’s broken promise.

In a fit of frustration, I filed for divorce online.

With the undeniable proof of Bradley’s infidelity, the divorce process was quick.

A few days later, the divorce papers were delivered directly to my hands.

The thought that I would no longer have any connection to Bradley left me with an ache in my chest.

Eight years, a third of my life, were spent with him.

And I had known him even longer.

I had worked tirelessly, constantly chasing after him, tending to his every need like a caretaker. Always worried about his health, I didn’t dare show my own weaknesses, bending to his every whim.

In the end, I was just a substitute.

I gently ran my fingers over the divorce papers, handling them with care as I tucked them away.

Then, I blocked and deleted all of Bradley’s contact information.

From now on, my life would be about me and only me.

I threw myself back into work, and during my occasional breaks, I looked for various apartments, trying to find a new place to call my own.

Winter hadn’t yet passed, and the cold air lingered, sharp and biting.

Because of the chill, people were reluctant to go outside, and the number of deliveries increased.

"This batch of coffee is ready. I’ll take it over; you and Lina stay here and watch the shop."

After Max gave his instructions, he bundled up and hurried out.

Another order came in for delivery.

I noticed the name on the order was "Barton," and my heart skipped a beat. I quickly checked the address, and my pulse raced before it settled again.

Thankfully, although the location was in the same neighborhood as our wedding suite, it wasn’t Bradley’s.

Even though we were divorced, the emotional wounds weren’t healing as quickly as I’d hoped.

I wasn’t quite at peace yet, and I wasn’t ready to run into him.

I carefully avoided the streets I knew Bradley often took, but as I turned a corner, I saw a few people walking toward me.

I let out a sigh.

Of course, what I’d feared the most had happened—I couldn’t escape it.