Chapter131 We're Divorced
The next morning.
Miranda woke to soft light filtering through the curtains.
Her lashes fluttered as she slowly opened her eyes, her consciousness still foggy. She was nestled deep in the down comforter, not wanting to move.
But then a memory hit her like an electric shock, flooding back into her mind.
Last night.
When the dance ended, Clifton hadn't immediately released his hand from her waist.
He'd tilted his head slightly, and in those usually cold, piercing eyes, she'd seen her own reflection.
Then he'd pulled her closer, and a kiss landed on her lips without warning.
Unlike his usual dominance, that kiss had been impossibly gentle, carrying a barely perceptible carefulness.
That flutter in her chest, even after a full night, still felt vivid enough to make her fingertips tingle at the memory.
"Mm..."
Miranda yanked the blanket over her face and rolled across the bed.
Last night had been so embarrassing!
In the end, she'd been the one blushing, stammering something about the food getting cold before pushing him away in a panic.
Miranda took a deep breath and shook her head, trying to banish that devastatingly handsome face from her thoughts.
She fumbled on the nightstand and grabbed her phone.
7:30 AM.
An unread message sat on her screen. From Harrison.
She tapped it open.
[Belle's letter. Let's meet. I'll bring it to you.]
After reading it, Miranda replied with just three words: [I'll come get it.]
After breakfast, Miranda floored the accelerator and drove out of Clifton Manor, her car speeding west toward Whitmore Estate.
The scenery grew increasingly familiar until she finally pulled up to the estate's main gate.
Miranda parked, grabbed her bag, and stepped out.
"Mrs... Miranda, you're here."
The butler hurried out, instinctively starting to say "Mrs." before catching himself, remembering they were divorced. He corrected himself awkwardly, forcing a smile.
Miranda nodded coolly. "I'm here to pick something up."
The butler stepped aside with a gesture. "Please."
The living room was quiet.
Harrison sat on the sofa by the floor-to-ceiling windows, holding a newspaper, though his eyes didn't seem focused on it.
Hearing the click of heels at the entrance, he jerked his head up.
Their eyes met.
Harrison stared at the woman walking in, a flash of admiration crossing his face.
Today, Miranda wore a sharply tailored beige trench coat over a black silk blouse. Her hair was casually pinned back with a few loose strands framing her face.
She had on delicate, subtle makeup, radiating a confidence and poise from within.
She was nothing like the woman in his memory who'd worn simple house clothes while ironing his shirts.
Miranda stopped a few meters away, her voice cool and emotionless. "I'm here for the letter."
Harrison snapped back to reality, set down the newspaper, and stood.
"Sit down for coffee?" He gestured to the opposite sofa. "It's your favorite beans. Just brewed."
"No need."
Miranda's refusal was immediate. "I'm busy. I'll take the letter and go."
Harrison didn't insist. He retrieved an elegant envelope from a drawer.
The familiar English calligraphy decorated the front.
Miranda stepped forward and reached for the letter.
But Harrison didn't release it.
He held one end, his gaze locked on her face, his tone probing, hopeful.
"If you have time, we could visit Belle together."
Miranda's brow furrowed sharply as she yanked the letter away.
"Harrison, I think you're confused about something."
She tucked the letter into her bag and raised her eyes, her gaze ice-cold. "We're divorced. I don't want any connection to you."
Without another word, Miranda turned to leave, not wanting to stay a second longer.
"Miranda!" Seeing her go, Harrison panicked and instinctively took two steps forward, blocking her path.
"Let me walk you out."
"Not necessary." Miranda stepped back, putting distance between them. Her avoidance felt like a needle stabbing into Harrison's heart.
"Harrison, there's no one else here. You don't need to put on this devoted act."
Miranda looked at him, a mocking smile curving her lips. "It's better if we're strangers. For everyone."
Harrison saw the finality in her eyes, and his chest felt crushed by an invisible hand, the suffocating pain making it hard to breathe.
"Even if we're divorced, we were married once."
His voice was hoarse, urgently defensive. "Those three years were real. What I felt for you... even if there were misunderstandings before, can't we at least be friends?"
"Friends?"
Miranda laughed bitterly.
"Harrison, do you think because I'm not making a scene, I have no temper? That I'm easy to bully?"
She stepped forward, her beautiful eyes full of frost.
"These past three years, how you and Ariana treated me, did you forget? She sabotaged me at every turn, you abandoned me repeatedly for her, and even when I miscarried and needed you most, you were with her!"
Mentioning the child who never came into the world made Miranda's voice tremble for a moment, but she quickly recovered her cold edge.
"You both hurt me so many times, and now you want to be friends?"
"Harrison, the fact that I don't hate you, that I'm not seeking revenge, is already the greatest kindness I'll ever show you. And you expect us to peacefully coexist?"
"Are you naive, or just hypocritical?"
These words left Harrison's face ashen. He opened his mouth to explain, to argue, but found he had nothing to say.
Those past events, he truly had wronged her.
But seeing her about to disappear completely from his world, panic instantly overwhelmed him.
"Miranda, I know I was a bastard before. I'm trying to make amends."
"Ding."
A crisp text notification interrupted Harrison's unfinished sentence.
Miranda, not wanting to hear more of his nonsense, pulled out her phone and glanced at it.
The screen lit up.
A flight confirmation from an airline.
Europe.
Two days from now.
Harrison stood close enough that when his eyes dropped slightly, he could clearly see the content on her screen.
Europe.
Two days.
Miranda finished reading, expressionlessly locked her screen, and shoved the phone back in her pocket.
She raised her head and gave Harrison one last cold look.
"Move."
Harrison stared at those eyes devoid of any attachment, his body rigid. Finally, he slowly stepped aside.
It wasn't until the butler carefully approached that he spoke. "Young master, Miranda has left."
Harrison seemed to snap back to awareness.
"Book me a flight."
Harrison narrowed his eyes, his mind filled with Miranda's retreating figure and that date on her phone screen.
Back at her office, Miranda didn't let Harrison's interruption affect her mood.
She walked straight into her office and took out Belle's letter.
After reading it, she spread out paper to write back, saying she'd visit soon when she had time.
When the final period landed on the page, Miranda set down her pen and flexed her slightly sore wrist.
With that done, Miranda took her coffee cup and walked to the massive floor-to-ceiling window.
Outside, the city's bustling CBD stretched before her, skyscrapers rising, traffic flowing.
In two days, she'd leave to solve the raw material problem.
Thinking of her company growing and expanding bit by bit, an unprecedented sense of satisfaction welled up inside her.