My Composure After Divorce Became His Greatest Torment Chapter 01
My husband offered me a debt-free apartment for one reason: I didn’t cry when I signed the divorce papers.
What he didn’t know was that before I saw the agreement, I’d already seen something far crueler.
That afternoon, I had walked into the nursery, my heart full.
The freshly mounted brass letters on the wall read *C.A.*
Not our baby’s name.
His ex-fiancée’s initials.
That night, he told me our marriage was over.
I didn’t question him. I didn’t tear up the papers.
I signed my name and asked only, “When do I need to be out?”
The composure on his face cracked. Just for a second.
“There’s no rush.”
“The Back Bay apartment will be transferred to your name tomorrow.”
I nodded, as if he were discussing something trivial.
He probably thought I was in shock.
But in a world that values appearances over sincerity, the more despicable a person’s actions, the more they fear being met with silence.
And I knew exactly how to keep him afraid.
…
I closed the folder and stood to get a pillow from the guest room.
“I’ll sleep in here, starting tonight.”
As I passed Nathan, he grabbed my wrist.
“Why?”
I looked at him.
He stared back, his voice low. “Why aren’t you asking when Caroline and I got back together? Why aren’t you crying? Why aren’t you making a scene?”
So my composure was what unnerved him.
“If I made a scene, would you change your mind about divorcing me for her?”
Nathan’s fingers went rigid around my wrist.
A moment later, he let go and looked away.
“No.”
“Then there’s no point in asking.”
The only sound in the living room was the slow, steady tick of the pendulum clock.
Finally, as if he couldn’t bear the quiet a second longer, he said softly, “Elise, I know this isn’t fair to you. I’ll make sure you’re compensated generously.”
I lifted a hand and unclasped the sapphire necklace at my throat.
His mother had fastened it there herself on our wedding day. Only the matriarch of the Prescott family was entitled to wear it.
When the gemstone dropped into Nathan’s palm, his expression shifted.
I folded his fingers over it.
“All right. I trust your generosity.”
The next morning, Nathan’s lawyer called.
“Mrs. Ward, the terms of the settlement have been updated. In addition to the mortgage-free apartment in Back Bay, Mr. Prescott has added a separate trust account in your name. You are the sole beneficiary, and it is irrevocable, even after the divorce.”
I gazed out the window. “Please thank him for me,” I said softly.
A sapphire necklace for a trust account.
It was worth far more than it ever would have been around my neck.
That afternoon, after I’d finished the preliminary paperwork, I was just stepping out of the law office when Nathan called my name.
“Let’s have lunch at the club.”
He rarely invited me anywhere. Even on our anniversary, he’d have his assistant book a table and show up late.
But this time, I took half a step back.
“No. Given the circumstances, that doesn’t feel appropriate.”
Nathan frowned, clearly not used to being refused.
“We’re getting divorced, Elise, not becoming enemies.” His gaze dropped to my stomach. “Besides, we’re still this child’s parents.”
“I’ve had terrible morning sickness. I can’t handle the smell of restaurant food.”
Nathan froze.
It was as if he’d only just remembered I was pregnant.
“Sorry. I forgot.”
I gave him a polite smile. “It’s fine. I’ll head home, then.”
A flicker of annoyance crossed his face, but seeing how pale I was, he held it back.
“Have the driver take you.”
This time, I didn’t refuse.
Reject him once and you’re setting a boundary. Reject him twice and you’re picking a fight. Right now, I needed his guilt, not his vigilance.
As the car drove along the Charles River, Nathan started to speak several times, then stopped.
I broke the silence first.
“If we’re getting divorced, I’m not sure I can keep this baby.”
Nathan’s head whipped around.
“What did you say?”
“You and Caroline will have your own life. If I keep him, he might just make things difficult for you both.”
“Pull over!”
The driver slammed on the brakes.
Nathan’s usually controlled face was dark with fury, his eyes blazing with an anger I had never seen directed at me before.
“Who gave you the right to make that decision for me?”
I met his gaze without flinching.
“If this child is born into a broken home, everyone will talk. Isn’t the Prescott family’s reputation what matters most?”
His jaw tightened, and his hand shot out, seizing my wrist.
“Elise Ward,” he bit out, “are you telling me you don’t want to carry the Prescott heir?”