Chapter 201
I slowly lifted my head. The tear stains on my face hadn't dried yet, but my eyes had already regained their cold clarity. I let go of Milly's hand, carefully tucked in the corners of her blanket, and stood up.
"Fine." My voice was hoarse but unusually calm. "Let's talk outside. Don't disturb Milly here."
Without looking at him, I walked out of the hospital room first and stood in the quiet hallway. George followed me out, closing the door behind him. The hallway lights were blindingly white.
I turned around to face him and pulled out the divorce agreement from my bag—the one I had prepared and just confirmed with Mr. Lucas today. Without any hesitation, I raised my hand and slapped the folder hard against George's chest.
It wasn't gentle. The hard corner of the folder might have even hurt him, but he only leaned back slightly, his face still expressionless. He didn't even reach out to catch it.
The folder slid down from his chest and fell to the floor.
The air seemed to freeze completely in that moment.
George's gaze slowly moved from the folder on the floor to my face; his eyes were deep, like a bottomless frozen pool, with undercurrents I couldn't understand churning inside.
"What's this supposed to mean?" he asked, his voice flat and calm.
I pulled at the corner of my mouth and said, "It means I'm serious about the divorce."
My voice was soft, but every word was crystal clear.
"Milly has to stay with me. Everything else, I can do without."
"The house, the money, even Jack—I can give them all up."
I stared into his eyes, emphasizing my words, "But Sarah touching my Milly? Not happening."
George listened quietly, his face still showing no emotion. He didn't even glance down at the divorce agreement lying on the floor.
He just looked at me calmly, the silent pressure of someone used to being in charge spreading around him, carrying a sense of scrutiny and intimidation.
"Before we discuss anything, apologize to Sarah first."
His gaze locked onto mine, as if trying to see into my soul.
"If you don't apologize..."
I almost laughed out loud.
The same old routine.
Besides using his power and coldness to pressure me, what else could he do?
"What if I don't?" I interrupted him, the mockery in my voice unconcealed. "George, besides threatening people, what else can you do?"
George's eyes suddenly turned cold, as if my attitude had completely enraged him.
He stepped closer, his presence even more severe, speaking almost word by word, "Then I'll divorce you."
I froze.
Not from fear, not from sadness, but from sheer absurdity.
I looked at George carefully, as if seeing this person for the first time.
Divorce?
That word actually came out of his mouth voluntarily?
Since my rebirth, how many times had I tried to talk to him about this?
He wouldn't answer calls, wouldn't reply to messages, even pretended not to know about the court summons.
I had exhausted every normal channel, only to receive his cold indifference and hurt after hurt.
Now, just because I slapped Sarah and refused to apologize, he wanted to divorce me?
How ridiculous.
So in his heart, Sarah getting slapped was more important than my six years of devotion, more important than Milly's safety, more important than our marriage that had long been dead in all but name.
Important enough to become his bargaining chip to grant my divorce request.
If I'd known it was this easy, should I have gone after Sarah sooner?
Should I have done the same in my past life—given her a few slaps to get the divorce papers I should have had long ago?
George probably thought that threatening me with divorce would control me, that I'd give in out of fear of losing the title of his wife and the comfortable life he provided, and go apologize to Sarah.
But he was wrong.
Completely wrong.
He had no idea how long I'd been waiting for this day.
The enormous sense of absurdity mixed with a feeling of near-liberation, making me calm down instead.
I looked at him and nodded, my tone calm, "Fine."
I pointed at the divorce agreement on the floor.
"Sign this agreement first."
"Then tomorrow morning at nine, meet me at the courthouse. Sign it, make it official."
"If you don't show up, you're a dog."
After saying this, I didn't wait to see what expression would appear on his face. I didn't pick up the agreement from the floor either. Instead, I turned around, pushed open the hospital room door, walked in, and gently closed the door.
Shutting George and his ridiculous threats completely outside.
From outside the door, I vaguely heard a dull thud.
Probably George finally picking up the agreement and throwing it hard into a nearby trash can.
I leaned against the door, listening to that sound, feeling completely calm inside, almost wanting to laugh.
Whatever.
Sign it or don't, throw it or don't.
As long as I could get that divorce certificate, I'd truly be free.
I looked at Milly still sleeping in the hospital bed, walked over, and gently held her hand. Still worried, I asked the doctor when the nurse came to change the IV. The doctor's words were like a lifeline, finally letting me surface from the drowning fear and catch my breath.
"Ms. Brown, the child is really fine. The scans are very clear—no bleeding in the brain, just a mild concussion."
"She's sleeping now because her body's self-protection mechanism has kicked in, letting her rest and recover."
"You don't need to worry too much. Once the medication wears off, she'll wake up naturally. Just keep an eye on her and let her rest for a few days."
I confirmed several times until the doctor seemed a bit impatient before leaving his office.
As long as she was okay.
As long as Milly was fine, nothing else mattered.
I went back and sat there, holding her slightly cool little hand, my eyes fixed unblinkingly on her pale but peaceful little face.
With my other hand, I pulled out my phone and forced myself to handle some urgent work emails, trying to use work to dispel the anxiety in my heart. I was so focused that I didn't even notice when Violet pushed the door open.
Not until her aged voice, heavy with guilt, sounded softly behind me, "Grace..."
My fingers gripping the phone suddenly tightened, knuckles turning white.
I slowly turned my head to look at her.
My expression must have been cold, even carrying a trace of distance and blame I couldn't hide in time.
Yes, blame.
I had trusted her so much, put Milly in her hands, reminded her over and over, even agreed to let the bodyguard follow.
But what happened?,
Milly still got hurt.
I knew the real culprit was Sarah—she acted on her own, she had malicious intentions.
But what about Violet?, She was right there. She was also Milly's grandmother, the one who took Milly out. Why couldn't she stop it?
Why couldn't she protect Milly?.
I couldn't at a time like this, still smile at her or comfort her.
Violet clearly noticed the coldness in my eyes too.
Her complexion, already poor from shock and self-blame, looked even more ashen. Her lips moved several times before she could barely get out an apology, "Grace, Grandma is so sorry. It's Grandma's fault for not watching Milly properly."
I looked away, my gaze returning to Milly's face. My fingers gently brushed her soft hair, the gesture tender, but my tone flat and emotionless.
"Grandma, what's done is done. Fortunately, Milly is blessed and lucky—nothing serious happened."
I paused, my voice even softer but sharp as a needle, "It's also my fault. I should have told you specifically not to let Milly have any contact with Sarah and her people."
These words were like a dull knife, stabbing hard into Violet's heart.
Her body swayed violently, her hand on the cane trembling.
She understood—I was blaming her, blaming her for knowing about Sarah and George's relationship, blaming her for not stopping them, blaming her for putting Milly in danger.
"Grace," Violet's voice carried a sob, urgently trying to explain, "Grandma didn't expect it either. That Sarah—she looked so gentle and soft-spoken, so polite. How was I supposed to know she'd be so pushy about putting Milly on that ride?".
"She even said something about how girls need to be bold and brave, or else they'll get bullied by boys when they grow up."
Violet's tone carried both regret and indignation.
"When I heard that, I thought it made some sense."
"Milly is a bit timid. I just wanted what's best for her, so I got confused for a moment and didn't stop her."
"Grace, Grandma is truly sorry, sorry to you and sorry to Milly. Grandma let you down."