Daniel let out a laugh, its meaning impossible to decipher—who knew what he was mocking.
His hand reached out, pulling her in by the waist until she was pressed against his chest. “What’s the rush? Are you worried this’ll ruin your chances at a second marriage?”
He always wore that subtle, custom-blended cologne—Amelia used to love it. That scent had been her undoing more times than she cared to admit; back then, she’d willingly lost herself in his world. Now, all she wanted was to get away before she fell again, too deep to escape.
“Either way, we’re getting divorced. Dragging things out just makes it messier. Why not just get it over with?”
With that, she pushed him away, breaking free from the intoxicating chill of his perfume.
His arm landed on empty air, and his eyes grew cold. “Marriage is something two people commit to together. What makes you think you alone get to decide when it ends? Amelia, have I spoiled you so much that you’ve forgotten how this works?”
Spoiled? She’d never seen a man “spoil” his wife by constantly defending the other woman—always, always putting her needs behind those of his pretty little Miss Third Wheel.
Amelia met his gaze head-on. “Why not get divorced? That way, you can start your happily-ever-after with your Porcelain Doll a little sooner. Why keep me around, dragging me out to stand between you two? Doesn’t that make you miserable?”
“Did I ever say I was miserable?” Daniel’s stare was unflinching, like he was trying to see straight through her. “Or is it you who’s miserable? Can’t wait to cut ties so you can go live in wedded bliss with your ‘official’ someone?”
She’d never seen anyone twist things around so shamelessly. Amelia was so furious she didn’t even want to speak. But after a moment, she forced herself to calm down—if she didn’t say something now, this whole trip would be pointless.
“Stop changing the subject. I’m here for the divorce papers. Once I have them, I’ll leave.”
Daniel looked at her—at that cold, impassive face—and couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh. Was she really this desperate? She looked about five seconds from dragging the courthouse here just to get it done on the spot.
He circled around to the other side of the desk and settled into his leather chair, pretending to shuffle a few files. “The divorce papers are missing. I looked for them yesterday, couldn’t find them.”
“Maybe they’re at home. I can call the housekeeper to look.”
“I brought them here to the office. But now they’re just…gone.”
Amelia blinked. Seriously? The office was understated luxury, bright as day, and she was hardly blocking any light with her figure. Whatever. They’d be divorced soon enough—she could tolerate him one last time.
Suppressing a sigh, she took a seat on the sofa. On the coffee table were two bottles of her favorite green grape milk. She grabbed one, twisted off the cap, and took a long drink.
By the time she’d finished the bottle, Daniel still hadn’t moved. Given how fast he read contracts, there was no way it should take this long to review a simple divorce agreement.
She turned to look—and found Daniel staring at her, eyes deep and unreadable, as if he’d been watching for ages.
“Been in touch with the official one lately?” he asked.
The question came out of nowhere. Amelia frowned. “Are you even reading the agreement?”
Daniel tossed the papers onto the desk and leaned back in his chair. “Answer my question first, then we’ll talk about divorce. Who is this official guy, anyway? You’ve never mentioned him before. How’d you two reconnect?”
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