After My Miscarriage, I Divorced the CEO Who Faked His Silence

Classmates crowded around her, falling over themselves to flatter, and right beside her sat my husband, Chester Delgado.

I looked at the scene and felt nothing. No sting, no twist in my chest—just a bone-deep certainty that it was finally, irreversibly over.

If Glenda Fox hadn't gone abroad back then, Chester would never have chosen me, the girl trailing behind him.

Twenty-odd years of childhood-sweetheart history. I was never going to compete with that.

Once I'd made peace with it, I could face this reunion with something close to calm.

I picked up a glass of wine and raised it toward Glenda.

"Welcome home."

She looked caught off guard, but smiled and lifted her glass in return.

Just as Glenda was about to drink, Chester stopped her.

"Glenda, you just got over a cold. Let me drink it for you."

The room went silent.

Glenda didn't refuse. She smiled and said okay.

After Chester finished the glass, she tilted her head and looked at me.

"Georgina, don't take it the wrong way. Chester's just looking out for me. He doesn't mean anything by it."

I laughed softly, then splashed the wine in my hand straight into Chester's face.

"Oh? So you can talk now."

Wine slid down his cheeks and dripped onto his expensive shirt, blooming into a dark stain.

Every eye in the room locked on me, bright with the ugly thrill of someone else's wreckage.

Chester stared at me in disbelief.

A long silence. Then he dropped his voice and snarled:

"Georgina, have you lost your mind?"

I smashed the empty glass on the floor. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? You're the one who's been faking it."

Chester swallowed hard, guilt written all over his face.

"You couldn't speak. Three years you couldn't speak. Not a single word. But you see Glenda Fox and suddenly you're cured?"

"Or is it just selective? Mute around me, perfectly fine around her?"

"Nothing to say to me—ever. But for Glenda, you can sing love songs and jump in to take her drink?"

My voice cracked before I could stop it.

Outsiders all envied us—husband and wife, heart and soul, building Delgado Group together. But this marriage had only ever gone one direction. I gave. He sat there.

I was the one who bowed and scraped. I was the one who sweet-talked investors and smoothed over deals. And none of it ever earned me a shred of real feeling from him.

All those years courting investors, I drank until I burned a hole through my stomach.

Chester sat next to me the whole time, never had to say a single word, and still walked away with signed contracts.

The color drained from his face, then flooded back wrong. He reached for my hand and I knocked it away.

"Georgina, let me explain..."

The words came out rushed, and for the first time I heard something I'd never heard in his voice before: panic.

I folded my arms and looked at him. "What is there left to explain between us?"

I looked past Chester, straight at Glenda.

"After all, you two are the ones who were made for each other."

Her smile stiffened, but she kept that lofty composure in place.

"Chester, you should be more patient with Georgina lately."

"She did just have a miscarriage. It's only natural she'd be emotional."

Glenda's voice was soft, measured, playing peacemaker.

Every word a knife aimed straight at my chest.

"You can drop the gentle act. Your Chester and I are getting divorced."

I grabbed my bag and was halfway out the door when I remembered one more thing.

"I'll send you the divorce papers later."

The cold wind hit my face at the street corner, and all I felt was relief.

Back at the hotel, I was about to send Chester the agreement I'd already drafted when I saw his latest social media post.

A woman shot from behind, face tilted up toward a sky full of fireworks.

Five words for a caption: *Welcome home, the Fox heiress.*