Divorcing the Billionaire Who Called Me Dirty

I crossed the room and took the seat farthest from them.

Candice kept piling food into Amber's bowl, beaming so wide her face could barely hold it.

"Eat more. You're carrying two lives now, no room for carelessness. Anything you want, just tell me and I'll have it made for you."

Amber thanked her sweetly, then dropped her gaze, touched her flat stomach, and let out a soft sigh.

"Maybe I shouldn't have come, Aunt Candice."

She glanced at me, timid on the surface, a flicker of triumph underneath.

"After all, today is her wedding anniversary. She must feel awful. I really should go."

Candice didn't so much as lift an eyelid. She laughed, cold and short.

"Three years she's held the Henson wife's place, and not a stir in her belly."

"Amber can carry on the Henson line. That's her gift. Some people, when their own body isn't clean, ought to have a little sense of shame, don't you think?"

It was the private wound I'd guarded from outsiders for three years, and she'd struck it like an open-handed slap across my face.

I looked at Neal before I could stop myself.

He sat there, teacup in hand, expression untouched.

No rebuttal. No defense.

He only frowned a little and said, low, "Mom, that's enough."

Not because it hurt him to hear it about me. Only because the scene had turned ugly, and he was afraid it would spoil Amber's mood.

Amber stood, eyes rimmed red. "If she doesn't want me here, I'll go. I'd never put Neal in a difficult spot."

Neal set the cup down at once and turned to me, a warning in his eyes.

"Don't take it out on her. She can't handle any stress right now."

From start to finish, I hadn't said a single word.

I looked at this man I had loved for ten whole years.

And all at once I was tired, tired down to the effort of breathing.

I unzipped my bag, took out the divorce papers I'd prepared, and pushed them across to him.

"Sign them."

The room went silent in an instant.

Candice froze, then sneered. "A washed-up little heiress, playing at dignity. This is playing hard to get, isn't it?"

Neal's gaze dropped to the paper.

He didn't read a line of it. He just laughed once, from somewhere high above me.

"You've dragged all of this out, for this?"

He picked up the papers, and in front of everyone, with one loud rip, tore them in two.

Then tossed the halves on the floor.

"Eleanor Fox, how do you plan to live once you leave the Hensons?"

He said it with such certainty, as if he were stating a truth beyond argument.

"Stop with these little games. First thing tomorrow, go get Amber's prenatal file set up."

At that Amber came straight over, pretending she meant to take my hand.

"I'm the one to blame. Don't be angry at Neal—"

I stepped back on instinct.

And Amber let out a shriek and threw her whole body against mine.

In the chaos my bracelet struck the edge of the table and shattered.

I stood frozen, then slowly crouched to gather the pieces.

It was the only keepsake my mother had left me, but Neal was already striding over, shoving me aside.

He helped Amber up, frantic, his voice shaking.

"Did it hit your stomach? Does it hurt?"

Amber leaned into his arms and wept like rain on pear blossoms. "I'm fine. Don't blame her, she didn't mean it."

Neal turned his head, his eyes cold as ice.

"Eleanor Fox, if anything happens to that child, I will never let you go!"

I cupped the broken bracelet in my hands, the sharp edges cutting my fingertip until blood welled up.

I remembered what my mother told me before she died, that one day I should marry a man who truly cherished me.

Once, I'd believed Neal was that man.

But now I couldn't feel the ache in my heart anymore.

I stood up, didn't spare any of them another glance, and turned and walked out of the room.

Back at the villa, I called my assistant to deal with my clothes.

I took only my documents and a few changes of clothes, and with my suitcase in tow, I walked out the Hensons' front gate.

Rain had started outside, soaking my hair and my clothes.

My phone screen lit up.

A message from Neal.

"Come back when you're done throwing your fit."

I looked at that message, so certain of its place above me, tapped delete, then blocked him.

A cab pulled up in front of me.

"Airport, please."