And the third was, “Stephanie, you’re at best his maid. The one he loves is me.”
There were dozens of messages like those.
Each and every one of them was screaming his betrayal.
Through them, she knew Maxwell, who had treated her so indifferently for the past seven years, could be so warm and passionate.
No longer interested in going through those messages again, she mechanically flipped through them until she saw the latest one. “I think you know who I am. The bouquet in the living room today is so nice, isn’t it? I picked them. He said they were beautiful.”
Stephanie let out a derisive laugh.
Of course, she knew who that homewrecker was.
It was Roxanne Gregg, a famous floral designer and influencer known for her signature floral arrangements in luxury residences of the ultra- wealthy.
Stephanie had shown Maxwell the messages before, but he had said she couldn’t prove Roxanne was the sender.
He even accused her of using an alt account to send those messages to frame Roxanne.
Most of the texts didn’t include photos. Even the ones that did looked like they could have been taken by anyone from afar.
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Except for today’s.
Stephanie wondered whether she should show it to him.
She tossed her phone aside and pulled out a document from the bottom drawer of the nightstand.
It was the pregnancy report she’d received in the morning.
She was pregnant with Maxwell’s baby, at the worst possible time.
Her tears fell onto the paper, blurring the words.
She thought, “Forget it. Why would I bother proving anything to him? He no longer loves me.
She wiped her tears away, picked up the lighter he’d left behind, and set the report on fire.
Little did he know that this divorce would be the last thing she ever gave him.
It had been seven years.
She had repaid his favor in full.
And now, she was done loving him.
The next day.
In the parking lot outside the courthouse.
Sitting in the Maybach Maxwell tapped the steering wheel with his left hand lightly.
“Maxwell, you’ve been married to Steph for a year now. How come she’s still not pregnant yet?” An elderly woman’s voice came through the phone.
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Maxwell smiled a bit helplessly.
He said with great patience, “Grandma, we’re both young and have plenty of time. You should focus on taking care of yourself. And Grandpa…”
“You have plenty of time, but not us,” Jennifer Humphrey interrupted him. “Leonard’s been doing better now, but we’re not getting any younger. Who knows? We may die tomorrow.”
“Grandma…”
Jennifer’s voice turned much more serious. “Save it. I’ve heard some rumors. No matter what, don’t mistreat Steph.”
Maxwell fell silent for a few seconds.
Jennifer pressed, “Did you hear me?”
Only then did he rub the bridge of his nose and say, “Yeah, Grandma.”
After reminding Jennifer and Leonard Humphrey, his grandfather, to take care of themselves, he hung up.
His gaze fell upon the courthouse not far away as he absent–mindedly continued tapping the steering wheel.
Pursing his lips tightly, he clicked on the message
list.
His finger swiped past Roxanne’s contact, which he saved as “My love“, and scrolled down to open his chat with “Stephanie“.
The last message was sent by him, telling her to meet him at the courthouse this morning to go through their divorce.
It was already their meeting time, yet she was nowhere to be seen.
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Frowning, he texted her, “Where are you?”
In the next second, someone tapped the car window. He looked up and saw Stephanie’s slightly pale face.