Better Late Than Never Loved

Seven years ago, in order to accompany the fake heiress abroad for her recovery, Timothy Gibson casually signed the divorce papers I handed him.

Without even turning around, he sneered at me.

"Naomi, don't use such underhanded tactics to keep me around. Esther can't live without me abroad."

Seven years later, he blocked my path with his car, and he spoke to me with an air of superiority.

"Grandpa is critically ill. His only dying wish is to hold his great-grandchild.

"Come back with me, behave yourself, and give birth to an heir. You will still be Mrs. Gibson."

I looked down at my shoes. I recalled the time I stood in the rain and begged him not to leave. I even collapsed in the rain.

In the end, all it got me was a dismissive 'you're making a scene' from him.

Timothy still thought my life revolved around him.

He had no idea that without the title of Mrs. Gibson, I had lived very well these past seven years.

The very day after he signed the divorce papers, I married someone else.

Gently touching my stomach, which wasn't even showing yet, I smiled and said, "Mr. Gibson, I'm afraid I'm going to disappoint you. I am having a baby, but it isn't yours."

Timothy Gibson froze for two seconds. There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

His gaze dropped to my flat stomach before he snorted.

"Naomi, you'll really make up anything just to turn me down?

"Who would want you apart from me? Even your biological parents abandoned you."

Abandoned… That was such a familiar term.

He hadn't changed at all. He just couldn't stop stomping on my pride.

Memories from ten years ago suddenly came rushing back.

When I was first brought to the Jackson family, my adoptive father had said in front of everyone, "You grew up in the countryside and are uncouth. Follow Esther's example from now on and don't embarrass the Jackson family."

Later, when Maria Jackson, my adoptive mother, found out that Timothy and I were together, she said bluntly, "You've already taken enough from Esther. You should learn to give in to her."

Confused, I asked what exactly I had taken from Esther.

She replied, "The marriage, of course. The Gibson family was supposed to arrange an engagement with Esther. Now it's been switched to you. Isn't that something you've taken from her?"

What she didn't know was that I had met Timothy long before Esther Jackson ever did.

I was eighteen at the time. I worked part-time at a coffee shop in the city that Timothy frequented.

He was the one who fell for me and approached me first.

We got into a relationship naturally.

Yet somehow, in Maria's eyes, it had become me taking what belonged to Esther.

My thoughts were interrupted by a phone ringing.

Timothy glanced at the screen and smiled. He deliberately put the call on speakerphone.

Maria's voice came through the phone. She sounded somewhat demanding.

"Timothy, have you found that ungrateful girl yet? Bring her back immediately!

"Esther just returned to the country. She wants that specialty cake from the bakery back in our old hometown. Pick one up on your way back."

Timothy answered with a simple, "Okay." After hanging up, he turned to face me.

"You heard her, didn't you? Go back, apologize, and give birth to a Gibson heir.

"You'll still be Mrs. Gibson, and you'll still be the rightful heiress of the Jackson family."

He made those two things sound like something I should be immensely grateful for.

I looked at him and suddenly found the whole thing amusing.

"Mr. Gibson, I'm married. I married someone else the day after our divorce seven years ago."

I reached into my purse, pulled out an ultrasound report, and tossed it through his open car window.

"For the past seven years, I've had nothing to do with the Jackson family. I have no obligation to give you an heir. Don't come looking for me again."

After saying that, I turned around and walked away.

There was silence behind me for a few seconds. Then came the sound of a car door opening.

"Naomi!"

I could hear Timothy running after me. He sounded a little irritated.

I didn't look back. Instead, I quickened my pace and turned into a nearby alley.

His footsteps faded behind me.

I knew his temper well. He had always been too proud to chase someone down the street.

A few seconds later, his phone rang again.

Esther's weak, delicate voice came through.

"Timothy, my chest hurts. Can you come back soon?"

Timothy was silent for two seconds. Finally, he said, "Wait for me."

The roar of the car engine echoed through the alley.

Standing around the corner, I listened as the sound faded into the distance. I slowly unclenched my fists.