Chapter 48 Chapter 48: Slow Down and Think
Cathy's P.O.V
I look up at Hunter, a thought suddenly crossing my mind.
"Wait…how did you know about a prenup?" I ask. "How could you possibly know that Xavier made me sign one?"
Hunter lets out a breath and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the dresser behind him.
"Think about it, Cathy," he says. "A family like Xavier's, one that has such a specific clause built into their inheritance, wouldn't just let their son get married without finding a way to protect what's theirs first. The Daltons have been protecting that fortune for generations. They're not going to let one marriage, one wife, get close enough to take a piece of it. A prenup wasn't just likely. It was guaranteed."
His words settle over me like a cold blanket, and suddenly I'm not sitting in Hunter's apartment anymore. I'm back in that day, months ago, standing in the grand foyer of the Dalton estate with Xavier's hand proudly on my waist as he announced to his parents that we were getting married.
I remember everything so clearly now.
Xavier's father had smiled, but it wasn't a warm smile. It was cool, calculated, the kind of smile that hid something ugly underneath. I had noticed it at the time but had pushed it away, telling myself I was being paranoid, that he was just surprised by the news. But now I know better. That smile was relief. Relief that his son was doing exactly what the family needed him to do.
And then there was Lydia. Xavier's mother, elegant and poised as always, with her perfectly manicured nails and her silk blouse. She had congratulated us, offered her cheek for Xavier to kiss, and then turned to me with that polite, practiced smile of hers that always cut through me like a knife.
"Of course, we'll need to discuss the prenup," Lydia had said casually, like she was mentioning the weather.
Just a procedure, they had said. Nothing to worry about. Standard practice for families like theirs. Lydia had even offered to give me a copy so I could review it with a lawyer of my own choosing, so I could take my time and make sure I understood everything before signing.
She had said it so sweetly, so generously, like she was doing me a favor. But even then, some small part of me knew there was something hollow about the offer. She knew I couldn't afford a lawyer. She knew I didn't have anyone in my corner who understood how these things worked. She knew that I would sign whatever was put in front of me because I was hopelessly, blindly in love with her precious son and nothing was going to stop me from marrying him.
I had trusted them. I had trusted all of them blindly, completely, without question. I had looked at that stack of papers and signed every page because Xavier squeezed my hand and told me it didn't matter, that we'd never need to look at it again.
I had been stupidly in love. But now, sitting here with the truth laid bare in front of me, I realize I hadn't just been in love. I had simply been stupid.
"Hunter," I say, and my voice sounds flat, empty. "He told me to just sign it. He said it was nothing."
"I know," Hunter says quietly.
I stare at the floor for a long moment, letting the silence sit between us. Then Hunter speaks again.
"You need to go home, Cathy," he says. "You need to find that prenup and read through it carefully. Every single word. Before you make any decisions about a divorce, you need to understand exactly what you agreed to, because if you go into this blindly, you could lose everything."
I let out a short, humorless laugh and shook my head.
"Lose everything?" I repeat, looking up at him. "Hunter, I have nothing to lose. Everything I own, every piece of furniture in that house, every card in my wallet, it all came from Xavier. He made sure of that from the very beginning. He pointed it out to me more than once, actually. Like it was a reminder. Like he wanted me to know that nothing in my life was truly mine."
The bitterness in my own voice surprises me. I didn't know I had that much anger stored inside me.
"So what's the point?" I continue, spreading my hands. "What's the point of reading some prenup when I don't want any of it anymore? Let him keep the house, the cars, the clothes, all of it. I don't want anything that came from him. It's all tainted now."
Hunter watches me carefully, his expression unreadable.
"Cathy," he says, and there's a firmness in his tone that makes me stop. "I need you to rethink this. I understand you're hurt. I understand you're angry and you want nothing to do with Xavier or anything he's ever given you. But you cannot let your emotions make this decision for you."
"Why not?" I snap, and even as the words leave my mouth, I hear how childish they sound.
"Because emotions change," Hunter says simply. "Right now you want to burn everything to the ground and walk away with nothing. But tomorrow, or next week, or next month, that feeling might be different. And by then, if you've already given everything up, you can't get it back."
I want to argue with him. I want to tell him that I'll never feel differently, that the anger burning in my chest right now will never fade, that I will never want anything from Xavier again.
But I don't say any of that, because somewhere deep down, in a place I'm not ready to examine yet, I know Hunter might be right.
I study him for a long moment, watching the way he stands there, patient and steady, waiting for me to process everything. There's something about his insistence that catches my attention now. Something that doesn't quite add up.
In any other situation, if someone came to Hunter and said they wanted out of a bad marriage, he would be the first one pointing them toward a divorce lawyer. He has the connections. He has the resources. He could have a team of attorneys ready to tear apart any prenup in a matter of days.
So why isn't he doing that? Why is he telling me to go home and read the prenup instead of offering to help me fight it? Why is he being so insistent that I slow down and think carefully before making any moves?
Something larger is at play here. Something Hunter isn't telling me. I can feel it in the way he's choosing his words, in the careful way he's guiding this conversation. He's not just trying to help me. He's steering me toward something, and I don't know what it is yet.
I file that thought away for later. I don't have the energy to confront Hunter about it right now, not when my whole world has already collapsed around me.
I sit there for another moment, exhaustion seeping into my bones. The anger is still there, simmering beneath the surface, but it's starting to mix with something heavier. Tiredness. Grief. The slow, painful acceptance that everything I thought I knew about my life was a lie.
I can't go back to that house right now. I can't walk through those doors and face Xavier, can't look at him without seeing all the women in those photos, can't stand in that kitchen and pretend that my marriage isn't completely destroyed.
But I also can't stay here at Hunter's apartment forever, hiding from reality. I took a deep breath and look up at Hunter. He's still watching me, quiet and patient, waiting.
"Hunter," I say finally, and my voice comes out steadier than I expected. "Is it possible for you to drop me off at my parents' house?"
He raises an eyebrow slightly, like he wasn't expecting that answer.
"Of course," he says without hesitation. "Wherever you need to go."
"I just..." I pause, searching for the right words. "I can't face Xavier right now. I'm not ready. I need to be somewhere safe, somewhere I can think without him watching over my shoulder."
Hunter nods, understanding in his eyes.
"I get it," he says. "Take all the time you need."
I stand up slowly from the bed, my body aching and heavy. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror across the room and look away quickly. I don't need to see that right now.
"Thank you," I say quietly, turning back to Hunter. "For everything. For last night, for this morning, for telling me the truth."
Hunter shakes his head.
"You don't need to thank me, Cathy," he says. "Not for any of this."
I nod once, then walk toward the door, pausing with my hand on the frame. I glance back at Hunter one more time, and the question that's been sitting in the back of my mind surfaces again.
What else are you hiding?
But I don't ask it. Not yet.
"Okay," I said softly. "Let's go."