Chapter 12
Those thin divorce papers were like a red-hot branding iron.
They burned into the dining table covered with its white tablecloth, and burned into James's suddenly frozen face.
Time seemed to stand still.
Isabella was so startled that her spoon dropped onto her plate with a harsh clatter.
Amelia suddenly covered her mouth, though a hint of barely concealed satisfaction flashed in her eyes, quickly replaced by perfectly measured panic as she looked toward James.
James's gaze slowly moved from the papers to my face. In those deep eyes, shock rippled through.
Then it was replaced by something deeper—an offended anger.
His jawline tightened, his voice icy, carrying an undeniable command. "Are you crazy?"
Looking at him, I felt a metallic taste surge up my throat.
The hollowed-out pain deep in my body, the clear, heavy ache in my lower abdomen that marked my loss—in this moment, it all became unbearably sharp, almost tearing through my nerves.
"James, don't be angry." Amelia stood up right on cue, gently and weakly grasping James's arm. Her eyes glanced meaningfully at me, her tone full of concern and insinuation.
"Sophia might just be acting impulsively. Maybe she met some better opportunity outside, which is why she's so eager to leave the Smith family. After all, it's not like she hasn't done similar things before..."
Her words precisely pinned the labels of "sleeping her way up" and "social climbing" onto me once again.
Better opportunity?
Not everyone was like her, able to send such suggestive texts to strangers.
"James, you don't know—women have physical needs too. Not everyone is willing to stay faithful like I am for Jasper. If Isabella and I didn't have you, we wouldn't know how to go on!" Amelia dabbed at her tears theatrically, her soft body leaning against James's shoulder, looking utterly pitiful.
Was she suggesting that I was up to my old tricks—that just like when I supposedly schemed to sleep with him, I'd now latched onto another "opportunity," which was why I dared to throw out divorce papers so boldly?
"Sophia, I've been through this—what problem between husband and wife can't be solved? Just go wash your hands and eat." Amelia acted as if she were the hostess of this house, while I, who had suffered so much, seemed to have become the troublemaker causing a scene.
I couldn't understand how she could calmly say these things now, when just this afternoon she had watched me lose my child.
Rage, humiliation, and the bone-deep grief of losing my child erupted inside me like lava!
My whole body shook uncontrollably, my vision darkened in waves, and I could barely stay standing.
I was about to speak up when I was interrupted.
Isabella, frightened by the tense atmosphere, burst into loud tears, crying and pointing at me while screaming. "Bad woman, your face is so pale, like a ghost. You're scaring me—get out!"
Yes, right now I probably really did look like a vengeful spirit crawled back from hell!
I whipped around, my bloodshot eyes locked onto Amelia's fake, instigating face!
It was her!
Her and Isabella!
They killed my child, and now they were here twisting the truth, slandering my reputation.
All my reason, in that moment, completely snapped.
I used every bit of remaining strength to rush forward. Before James could stop me, before Amelia's pupils could fully dilate with shock, I raised my hand with all my hatred and despair.
A slap that echoed through the entire dining room landed heavily on Amelia's face.
I hit her so hard that she stumbled backward into the dining chair. Her cheek swelled red instantly, her carefully styled hair came loose, and she looked utterly disheveled.
She screamed, covering her face, looking at me in disbelief. Tears immediately poured out—this time, they seemed to carry some genuine pain and fear.
"I just didn't want you and James to miss out like Jasper and I did. What did I do wrong?" Her pitiful appearance immediately drew James's fire.
"Sophia!" His furious roar nearly lifted the roof. He grabbed my wrist as I raised my hand again, gripping so hard it felt like he'd crush my bones. His eyes were full of rage. "You're asking for it!"
The piercing pain in my wrist was nothing compared to one ten-thousandth of the pain in my heart from losing my child.
I struggled to shake off his hand. The force made the sharp pain in my lower abdomen cause my vision to go black, and cold sweat instantly soaked through my clothes.
I held on, didn't fall, and looked up directly into James's eyes full of anger and disgust. My voice was hoarse but clear as shattering icicles crashing into the dead air. "I'm asking for it? James, listen carefully!"
My tears finally broke through again, mixed with endless grief and despair, flooding out.
"Our child is gone!"
"This afternoon, killed by Isabella and Amelia, the ones you so carefully protect!"
"I had a miscarriage, James. Your child is dead."
That last sentence, I practically screamed out through tears of blood. Suddenly, everything fell into deathly silence.
The rage and coldness on James's face froze as if someone had hit pause.
His pupils contracted violently, as if he'd heard something impossible. He stared at me in disbelief, his gaze seeming to penetrate my body to determine if my words were true.
The color drained from his face at a visible speed. His lips parted slightly, as if trying to say something, but no sound came out.
That moment of emptiness and shock was so clear.
Amelia also stopped crying, covering her face, a flash of real panic in her eyes.
She clutched tightly at James's expensive suit, her lashes trembling, lips parting. "It's not like that, James. Let me explain..."
James didn't speak. Those handsome eyes stared at me as if trying to see right through me.
Time seemed to pass as long as a century.
Just when my dead heart, because of that moment of shock in his eyes, pitifully produced a faint, pathetic glimmer of hope.
I saw the shock in his eyes recede like a tide, replaced by something deeper—coldness and doubt.
His Adam's apple bobbed once. Finally finding his voice, it was low and hoarse, yet carried a mockery and questioning so cruel it completely crushed my last bit of life force. "Sophia."
He looked at me like I was a clumsy clown, full of distrust and weariness. "To get a divorce, to gain sympathy, you'd even curse yourself with a miscarriage."
His words were like a knife, cutting into my heart over and over. "Isn't this act a bit much?"