My Composure After Divorce Became His Greatest Torment Chapter 13
Nathan’s reaction was even more violent than Caroline’s.
He lunged forward and seized my wrist, his eyes blazing.
“Who gave you the right to do that? That was my child, too!”
I tore my arm from his grasp.
“My body doesn’t require your permission.”
He went still.
“You treated our marriage like an asset to be liquidated and your wife like an obstacle to be paid off.”
“You treated a child like an acquisition, a way to make up for your fiancée’s infertility. The plan was for me to give birth, sign a paper, and be erased from your perfect little family.”
I stared straight at him, my voice cutting.
“Nathan, you made the most indecent deal of your life. And now, your acquisition has failed.”
The color drained from his face. His lips parted, but no sound came out.
For a brief, stupid moment, something in my chest ached.
After all, I really had loved him once.
Just then, the car I’d called pulled up to the curb.
I pushed past the hollow-eyed man who was once my husband, got in, and shut the door without a backward glance.
A month later, the divorce settlement was complete.
I bought a house in Portland, Maine, with a view of the ocean, and used part of the money to buy a stake in a local art gallery.
Caroline kept texting me from different numbers, a stream of venom accusing me of ruining her life.
I’d block one number, and she’d use another.
In the end, I just changed mine.
As the sea breeze blew in through the gallery windows, I deleted the last cloud backup tied to my old life.
The Prescotts would never find me again.