Chapter 100
Today, Lorelei wore a loose dress under a coat, but her slightly rounded belly was still visible. She clung to Gideon's arm, wearing a victor's smile that only brightened when she spotted Josephine.
Gideon looked terrible—heavy dark circles, pale lips, the whole vibe screaming exhaustion. He wore yesterday's suit, tie hanging loose around his neck like he'd rushed out without even changing.
"Sorry. Traffic." His voice came out hoarse.
Josephine glanced at Lorelei behind him but said nothing, just stood. "Let's get started."
The divorce processing window was at the very back. The clerk was a woman in her forties who took one look at their group—divorcing couple, lawyers, and an obviously pregnant woman—and her expression flickered with understanding.
She began the procedure briskly. "Did you bring all the required documents? The divorce agreement?"
Leonard handed over the materials.
The clerk flipped through the agreement, checking details while asking the routine question. "Both parties are divorcing voluntarily?"
"Yes," Josephine said.
The clerk looked at Gideon.
Gideon gripped his pen, staring at the signature line, silent for a long moment.
"Mr. Getty?" The clerk prompted.
Gideon took a deep breath. "I... need to review some of these clauses again."
Leonard frowned. "Mr. Getty, we've discussed this agreement seven times. Every clause was mutually confirmed by both attorneys. If you raise objections now, we'll need to renegotiate—which means we can't process this today."
"Then let's renegotiate." Gideon's voice held suppressed emotion. "The property division—I think it's unfair."
Josephine finally looked at him. "Unfair how?"
"The Clearwater Ridge renovation costs—you only counted your portion, but I've also paid maintenance fees, property fees over the years..." Gideon started listing items, his tone growing more agitated. "And all those things you left at the house—most were gifts from me. That should factor into the value..."
Josephine listened quietly, then asked, "So you think I'm taking too much?"
Gideon's words caught in his throat.
He didn't actually care about the money. He just... he just didn't want to sign this paper, didn't want to let her go so easily, didn't want this marriage to end like this.
"Mr. Getty," Lorelei gently tugged his sleeve. "Don't do this... Josephine probably really needs this money. After all, she won't have any other income after the divorce..."
The comment was masterfully delivered—superficially conciliatory, actually mocking.
Gideon's expression remained blank, not looking at anyone, stubbornly insisting, "Either way, I need to review this again. We're redrafting the terms."
Seeing that he was determined not to cooperate, Josephine smiled.
She turned to the clerk. "If we can't reach an agreement today, what's the latest we can delay this?"
The clerk checked the time. "If both parties can't sign on the spot, the appointment is void. You'll need to reschedule. With the current queue... at least two weeks."
"Fine." Josephine nodded, then turned to Gideon.
She stepped forward until she stood right in front of him, looking into his bloodshot eyes.
"Gideon," her voice was so calm it was chilling, "you're stalling. Showing up late on purpose. Finding excuses to nitpick... but none of it changes anything."
Gideon's lips moved, but no words came out.
Josephine spoke each word clearly. "Right now, all I feel is that wasting seven years of my youth on you... wasn't worth it."
She picked up the divorce agreement from the table and threw it at him.
Gideon fumbled to catch it, his fingers gripping the papers.
"You have two choices right now. Sign it, or we redraft the terms—but I'm only giving you two weeks. When that time comes... I won't be this reasonable." Josephine's voice turned cold.
Gideon stared into her eyes.
He couldn't find any trace of the past in them. No love, no hate, not even anger. Just a frozen calm that terrified him.
Gideon's hands began to shake. He wanted to grab onto something, wanted to grip the pen, wanted to write his name—but his fingers remained stiffly immobile.
"Gideon," Josephine glanced at the clock on the wall. "It's 9:45. You have three minutes to decide."
Three minutes.
One hundred eighty seconds.
Gideon had never felt time this cruel. Leonard's impatient expression, Lorelei's expectant gaze, the clerk's detached attitude—he registered none of it, just stared at Josephine's calm profile.
How could she be so cruel to him!
"I..."
He finally spoke, voice beyond hoarse.
But in that moment, he made his decision.
"I won't sign."
Josephine nodded, as if she'd anticipated this answer all along.
She collected the agreement and told the clerk, "Sorry, we won't be able to process this today. Please cancel our appointment."
Then she turned to Leonard. "Let's reschedule in two weeks. If Mr. Getty is willing to sign before then, contact you anytime."
"Understood." Leonard packed up his briefcase.
Josephine gave Gideon one final glance—completely devoid of emotion. No disappointment, no anger, not a single ripple. Like looking at a stranger.
Then she turned and walked away without looking back.
Gideon stood frozen, watching her figure disappear through the courthouse entrance. His heart felt like something had torn it open, cold wind howling through the gap.
Lorelei tried to take his arm. "Gideon, let's go back..."
Gideon violently shook her off.
The force was too much—Lorelei stumbled, nearly falling.
The lawyer beside them quickly steadied her.
"Mr. Getty..."
Gideon turned and left without sparing Lorelei a glance.
Outside the courthouse, Gideon looked up at the overcast sky. Late autumn wind scraped his face, stinging painfully.
For the first time, he truly felt what he was losing—not just Josephine, but something more important, something he couldn't even name.
He got in his car but didn't start it, just leaned against the steering wheel with his eyes closed.
His phone vibrated. Lorelei calling.
He glanced at it and declined.
Then it buzzed again. Briana, this time.
Irritated, he powered it off completely. Finally, silence.
Gideon gripped his phone, knuckles white from pressure.
He suddenly remembered Josephine before they were married—full of spirit, brilliant as sunlight, so dazzling that he'd fallen helplessly in love at first sight.
But later...
They'd married. Her light seemed to gradually dim.
Gideon slammed the steering wheel, triggering a harsh honk. In that instant, he jolted awake, his eyes gleaming with predatory determination.
Josephine couldn't have children. No man would want her. The only one who could accept her was him.
He abruptly started the car and sped off.
He wouldn't let her leave like this.
Absolutely not.