Chapter 86 Chapter 29.2
HEAVEN POV
I stared blankly at the CENOMAR my secretary had obtained, my fingers tightening around the edge of the paper as if it might slip away and change the truth written on it. Married. Still married. The word felt heavy, absurd, and cruel all at once. I couldn’t understand Desmond’s thinking at all. Why didn’t he sign the divorce papers I had sent to him years ago? That was what he wanted back then—freedom, a clean break, the chance to marry Macie without obstacles.
We had no reason left to stay together. No reason to remain husband and wife. I had been the one who sent him the divorce papers so he wouldn’t have to trouble himself anymore, so he could move forward without guilt. And yet here we were.
I released a long, shaky breath and rubbed my temples, a familiar ache forming behind my eyes. What more did he want from me? Why wouldn’t he let me go? If he had just signed the divorce papers back then, we would both be free by now. We would have gone our separate ways, untangled from each other’s lives.
This couldn’t be happening. There couldn’t still be a connection between us. I didn’t want to carry his last name anymore. I didn’t want to be tied to him in any way. I needed to talk to him—face to face. If I had to file for divorce all over again, then I would do it.
I grabbed my phone and dialed his number. He answered almost immediately.
“Hello? What do you need?” His voice was serious, clipped.
“We need to talk,” I said.
“Okay. Let’s talk.” He agreed without hesitation, then ended the call.
A knock sounded on my door. I looked up.
“Come in,” I said, assuming it was my secretary.
My brows furrowed when the door opened and Desmond walked in instead. What was he doing here? I had just spoken to him on the phone. Had he already been in the building? I hadn’t been informed of any visit—especially now that I was a director, I knew who came and went.
I simply stared at him. His expression remained unreadable.
“You look surprised,” he said.
A dry laugh escaped me. “Who wouldn’t be? I was just talking to you on the phone seconds ago, and now you’re already here. What are you doing here?”
My gaze flicked to the bouquet he was holding. Was that for me? Or was there someone else in this office he was courting?
I didn’t assume anything. He didn’t hand it to me.
“You said you wanted to talk,” he replied calmly. “I came here to talk to you.”
“Have you been here long?” I asked.
“No. I just arrived. I was about to go to your office when you called, so I answered first. What do you want to say?”
I nodded slowly. My heart pounded in my chest, but I forced myself to meet his eyes. I couldn’t read the emotion in them—was that longing, or was I hallucinating?
“I’ll be honest,” I said. “Let’s file for divorce. If you simply forgot to sign the papers I sent you before, then let’s file again.”
His face grew even more blank, impossible to decipher. My eyes drifted to the flowers as he set them down on my desk.
“I came here to give you those and to talk to you,” he said, “but not to separate from you. I deliberately didn’t sign the divorce papers you sent me. Why would I file for divorce now? I’m not leaving you, Heaven. From the moment you left, I never stopped looking for you. I came here to fix our relationship.”
My jaw tightened. He held my gaze steadily, as if he had no intention of looking away. Even though his stare made me dizzy, I refused to avert my eyes.
We were locked in a silent standoff.
“If you won’t do it,” I said, “then I will file for our divorce myself.”
“And on what grounds?” he asked coolly. “Do you think the court will allow you to divorce me without a valid reason?”
“For cheating,” I snapped.
Was he provoking me? If he thought I didn’t have the ability to divorce him, he was wrong. I had prepared for this. He smiled—an infuriating smile that only made my anger burn hotter. I clenched the hem of my skirt tightly.
I wasn’t the same Heaven he once knew. Yes, I loved him—but I had to respect myself too, especially when I no longer had a place in his heart. I still remembered his betrayal vividly.
Maybe I had no right to be jealous. He and Macie had history long before me. But I was still his wife. We were legally married.
“Do you have proof?” he asked. “Because I can also prove that I didn’t cheat on you. If you want to file for divorce, I won’t stop you. Let’s meet in court and see who wins.”
My teeth ground together. Why was he so confident? Of course—he had money. Enough to twist the truth if he wanted to.
“Heaven, I didn’t come here to fight with you,” he said. “I came here to win you back. Believe me—nothing happened between Macie and me. That night after I dropped you off, I went straight to a bar to drink, not to see her—”
“Stop,” I cut him off.
I turned away, unable to meet his eyes. I didn’t know whether he was telling the truth. What if he had rehearsed this explanation from the very beginning?
“I don’t want to listen anymore, Desmond,” I said quietly. “It’s been two years since we separated. Let’s just free each other. There’s no reason left for us to be together.”
I bit down hard, knowing the last part was a lie.
I had no intention of telling him about our child. I didn’t want to be hurt again. The pain had dulled over time, but I refused to be foolish in love. In the first place, I had never truly owned his heart.
“Please let me explain first, Heaven,” he said, his voice serious and cold.
I glanced at him, then quickly looked away again. His eyes felt like they were pulling me into another world—one where I couldn’t think clearly.
“Desmond, I called you to talk about our divorce, not about us.”
“But that’s exactly what I want to talk about,” he insisted. “Macie already admitted that nothing happened between us at the hotel. I was completely drunk that night—it was impossible for anything to happen. She undressed me, took photos of us, and sent them to you. She wanted to destroy our relationship because she couldn’t accept that I chose you—”
“Desmond, enough!” I snapped, rising from my chair.
I didn’t want to hear about that night anymore. The memories came rushing back, reopening wounds I had worked so hard to close.
“Listen to me first, Heaven! Damn it!”
I flinched at his shout. His jaw was clenched, his eyes dark and intense—like a predator cornering its prey.
“Listen to me,” he said again, calmer now, but no less firm.
And despite myself, I stood there—torn between the past I was trying to escape and the truth he was desperate to make me hear.