Waking Up Before It's Too Late

Tristan's POV

On the other end of the phone, Delilah Erickson froze momentarily, then laughed with greater pleasure.

She sounded genuinely interested and provocative as she said, "You should send me your address. I'll go pick you up, Tristan."

…

Willa's POV

It was early in the morning when I spared a look at the empty chair beside me.

I turned to the housekeeper, Freya Warner, and instructed, "Have someone call him down for breakfast, Freya."

Freya, who had her head lowered, looked up in confusion, saying, "Mr. Quinn left first thing this morning, bringing his suitcase with him, Mrs. Quinn."

My hand, holding the fork, stopped mid-air. "You mean Tristan actually left?"

Simon said tentatively, "You should probably send me home, Willa. I'm certain that Tristan must be upset, which is why—"

I cut Simon off, my expression hardening. "Tristan has done this before. He'll return once he cools off for a couple of days. You shouldn't worry about him and continue eating your meal, Simon."

Having said that, I pushed the glass of warm oat milk toward Simon, who lowered his head and took a couple of sips, looking utterly blissful.

I intended to continue my meal, but my mind involuntarily flashed back to Tristan's deathly pale complexion yesterday, his cold and decisive remarks, and the divorce agreement currently lying on the coffee table.

I suddenly clicked my tongue, losing my appetite in an instant.

I stood up with a trace of uncharacteristic haste and instructed, "You can clear the table now."

I then turned to the butler, Sebastian Greene, and said, "Get the car ready. I'm heading to the company."

…

Tristan's POV

In the meantime, not long after being discharged, Delilah took me to the hospital once more. I was probably in such bad shape because I had forced my own discharge.

As a result, I came down with a fever and passed out in her car not long after.

I vaguely felt someone rubbing the bruising on my right hand while I was half-conscious.

"What do you mean he got into a car accident, and that three critical-condition notices were issued? Is this a lingering effect? It seems like the wound on the abdomen is slightly infected.

"I'll head out for a while. Have the nurse hurry with the anti-inflammatories and change the dressing. Go turn up the AC and get the IV heater in here."

I pried my eyes open with effort, meeting a gaze full of worry. "D-Delilah?"

Delilah replied, "I'm right here, so just go back to sleep, Tristan. You'll feel better once you've rested."

I could feel the heat from her palm as she held my freezing right hand. I was so delirious with fever that I lost the ability to identify her, only registering the fact that her hand was remarkably warm.

…

Willa's POV

I had already called Tristan eight times, only to have each call go unanswered.

I knew that in the past, whenever Tristan threw tantrums, it would only take two or three calls to reach him. I didn't even have to coax him, as he would eagerly return to my side.

At this thought, I instructed Taylor, "I need you to go find out—"

I got interrupted mid-sentence as someone from the secretariat suddenly knocked on the door with a guest beside her.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Fowler, but Mr. Ziegler insisted on meeting you. He said he's here at Mr. Quinn's request."

Zachary Ziegler straightened his glasses and said, "Good morning, Ms. Fowler. I'm the lawyer whom Mr. Quinn has commissioned to discuss the divorce details with you."

I was momentarily stunned. I sneered and asked with a knowing smile, "Is this Tristan's latest stunt, Mr. Ziegler? Where is Tristan right now? I'm very busy and have no time to play along with his runaway antics, so please have him return to the residence as soon as possible.

"Simon has a bit of a sensitive nature, so all this worrying is hindering his recovery. Tristan needs to apologize to Simon when he returns."

I sounded very dismissive, treating the matter as nothing more than an unreasonable child throwing a tantrum.

Zachary remained silent for a beat before he opened his briefcase and pulled out a document. "I was told to present this to you by Mr. Quinn if you were skeptical about the whole thing, Ms. Fowler."

It wasn't a divorce agreement. Instead, it was a printed copy of an official announcement.

Zachary continued, "In accordance with Mr. Quinn's instructions, his capital company and its subsidiaries released this announcement through official channels at exactly 10:00 am today.

It's a formal declaration to the public and his business partners that he has begun the process of divorcing you, Ms. Fowler."

My smile immediately crumbled, my pupils constricting sharply as I stared at the official announcement, complete with an official stamp.

I knew exactly what it meant, as this was the very approach I had always been most skilled in and most fond of using.

I finally realized then that Tristan hadn't been joking—he was serious about getting a divorce.