“Why were you pretending to be dead when I messaged you?”
“Do you even realize it’s raining outside? If I catch a cold, who’s going to run the company?”
“You stay home all day doing absolutely nothing. What could be keeping you so busy? Even the UN president isn’t this hard to contact!”
I looked up, my eyes landing on the lipstick smudged across his collar, and suddenly, I let out a laugh.
“Isn’t someone already delivering things for me? If I showed up, wouldn’t I have just ruined your little fun?”
Catching my gaze, Maverick’s face tightened into a frown.
“Lainey had too much to drink tonight and nearly fell. I was just helping her, it rubbed off by accident.”
He tore off the shirt in frustration and flung it at me again.
“What’s with that attitude? I worked all day and came home to your sour face?”
“I haven’t even brought up you being late, and now you’re throwing sarcasm at me?”
“That’s enough. I don’t have time to baby you. Lainey’s not feeling well. Where did you get that hangover medicine? Send her some so she won’t miss work tomorrow.”
“Oh, and these two shirts, hand wash them tonight, dry them, and iron them properly. I need them for my business trip.”
I ignored his commands.
My eyes narrowed slightly, my voice cold and composed.
“Maverick, don’t you think you’ve been a little too considerate toward that secretary of yours?”
That set him off immediately.
“What’s wrong with taking care of an employee? Can you stop being so paranoid all the time? I’m exhausted. I come home to rest, not to get interrogated. If this keeps up, I might as well move out!”
I let out a faint laugh, the kind that stung more than it soothed, my gaze fixed on my phone.
“Move out? Haven’t you already done that?”
“Those two-meter beds in your office must be cozy. Probably more comfortable than anything you’ve ever shared with me.”
His fury snapped like a whip.
“Are you done? You’re always stuck on who I’m drinking with or which woman visits my office. With all that effort, why don’t you try being a mother instead?”
“When was the last time you even looked at your son? Do you still remember him?”
“Mom’s reminded me at least a dozen times, keep this up, and he’ll grow up thinking he only has one parent.”
At the mention of my child, something tugged at my chest, sharp, bitter, aching.
Back when I married into the family, not a single one of them welcomed me.
Their only condition for agreeing to the marriage was that, after giving birth, I had to hand the child over to them.
They said once he was older, they’d consider letting me have him back.
But that so-called arrangement dragged on for eight long years.
I saw my son only a handful of times, so few that even Lainey saw him more often than I did.
I cried. I fought. But in Maverick’s eyes, I was just being difficult.
He always said the family could give our son the best education.
That if I raised him, I’d only ruin his future.
But now I knew better.
What would truly ruin him was growing up in a house that had everything but love.
I laid the divorce papers flat in front of him and spoke with a voice stripped of emotion.
“Let’s get divorced. Please return custody of our son to me. From now on, whatever you do, whoever you’re with, I won’t care.”
Maverick’s face went stone cold, his voice low and sharp. “Divorce? Are you serious? The child is already eight.”
“Give me one valid reason.”
I tapped my phone and played the livestream recording on loop, the part where he said, “kid’s mom.”
His eyes flared red with anger.
“I said that casually! You are the kid’s mom, what’s wrong with me calling you that?”
“You want a divorce over something so trivial? Eliana, I don’t have time for your tantrums!”
I let out a long, exhausted sigh.
“Maverick, I’m not just your housewife. I have my own life. I sketch designs every single day.”
“If I were working outside, I’d already be a design director by now.”
