My Maternity Records Belong to Another Woman novel Chapter 43

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Chapter 3

The sharp sting of disinfectant filled Vivian Bennett’s lungs, burning all the way down to her core.

She looked at Charles, her voice thick with despair. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

Who else could erase a crime scene in so little time?

Who else would still cradle a venomous woman like Diana in the palm of his hand?

Charles met her gaze with dark, unreadable eyes. Then he turned, producing a gift box. Inside lay a pink

diamond necklace, sparkling under the light–the very one he had once promised to buy her for their

wedding anniversary.

His warm palm settled gently on her head. “The case is closed. Nothing will change now. Your parents…

they’re gone. It is what it is, Vivian. Let it go.”

“From now on, we’re each other’s only family. Stay with me. Let me spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Don’t fight this anymore, okay?”

Vivian held the weighty box, yet all she felt was the gaping hole in her chest, wide open and sucking in cold

air.

She suddenly remembered–two years ago, when the stray cat she’d taken in was killed by a shady animal

clinic, Charles had flown into a rage. He shut the place down and forced the vet, arm in a cast, to apologize.

But now? It was her parents who had died—and all he could say was, “Let it go.”

She closed her eyes, swallowing back the sob clawing at her throat.

“Charles Foster, I want a divorce…”

“Diana, why are you crying?”

Her hoarse voice overlapped with Charles’s as he answered his phone. He didn’t hear a word she said—just

turned and rushed out of the room.

He moved so fast that his cufflink snagged in her hair, yanking out a strand with the root still attached.

He didn’t looked back.

The sting on her scalp didn’t compare to the ache in her chest.

Numb, Vivian pulled the divorce settlement she’d prepared from her drawer and followed him.

From around the corner, she caught Diana’s syrupy voice, every word clear.

“I just bought that eighty–million–dollar emerald necklace, and right at the corner, I saw a beggar. He

Chapter 3

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looked so pitiful, Charles. And here I was, being petty enough to throw away the pink diamond you gave me. Wasn’t that too spoiled of me?”

Charles chuckled softly, his voice indulgent. “Of course not. You’ve always had a kind heart. If that necklace didn’t catch your eye, that’s on the necklace. Trash belongs in the trash can.”

Vivian froze.

So this was the man she had loved for six years. Even the necklace meant to “compensate” her was Diana’s

discard.

When she sought justice for her parents, she was “making a scene.” But Diana, who had blood on her hands,

was still considered “kind.”

So this was the difference–between being loved, and not.

Charles hung up the phone.

Vivian walked out calmly and placed the unsigned divorce papers right in front of him.

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