Chapter 8

I froze.

“You took the money,” he said slowly, dangerously calm. “That slap isn’t settled yet. Apologize to her.”

My body stiffened. I turned back, my eyes burning. “What did you say?”

“I said, apologize,” he repeated, his gaze cold. “Don’t make me say it twice.”

“What if I don’t?” My voice shook, but I still asked.

His expression didn’t change. “Then maybe the cooperation between your family and mine… needs to be reconsidered. You understand what I mean, right?”

My heart dropped. So this was it? He was using my family now. Everything they worked for… he could crush it with one word.

The room went silent.

For a few seconds, I couldn’t hear anything.

Then slowly, I lowered my head.

“…I’m sorry,” I said, my voice hoarse.

Amber covered her cheek, looking at me through tears. “Ms. Hereford… are you really apologizing? Or is this just how people like you say sorry? It doesn’t feel real…”

My fists clenched.

My nails dug into my palms.

Then I bent down.

Deep.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, my voice breaking but clear. “I shouldn’t have hit you. It was my fault. Please forgive me.”

Hudson didn’t say anything.

Amber sniffed softly. “I still… don’t feel sincerity…”

“Mikayla,” Hudson said, his voice colder now. “Don’t even think about leaving until you apologize properly.”

My lips trembled.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, biting down hard so I wouldn’t cry. “It won’t happen again. I swear.”

I straightened slowly and looked at him. “Is this enough?”

For a second… he just stared at me.

Something flickered in his eyes.

Like he remembered something.

Maybe the past.

But it disappeared just as fast.

“That’s enough,” he said coldly.

I nodded once.

Then I turned and walked out.

Didn’t look back.

Behind me, I heard his voice again… but it wasn’t for me.

“Does it still hurt?” he said softly. “Come here, I’ll put some medicine on it. Don’t move.”

Amber’s voice came, quiet and weak. “It does… be gentle, okay…”

I kept walking.

Tears fell, but I wiped them away fast.

Like they never existed.

…

The next few days, he didn’t come home. And I didn’t call. Not once.

On the day everything became official, I went alone. Signed the papers, took the document, listened to the clerk say it was finalized. When they handed it to me, I just stared at it for a second, my fingers brushing over the words.

Divorce.

That was it. No tears. No pain. Nothing.

It was still early when I left. I got a cab and went back to the house, just to grab the last of my things. But the moment I opened the door, I froze.

He was there. Standing in the living room like he owned the air.

“Where the hell did you go?” Hudson asked, his voice low, eyes locking on me the second I stepped in.

I opened my mouth. Did I tell him? Did I just say it now?

Before I could speak, he let out a short breath, like he figured it out already.

“You went out to get something, didn’t you? For today.”

I blinked. “Today…?”

He frowned slightly. “Don’t tell me you forgot. It’s our anniversary.”

My chest tightened.

Anniversary. Huh! Our anniversary already happened last month.

Five years ago… same day. We stood in front of everyone, exchanged rings, smiled like it meant something.

That night… he handed me divorce papers. Told me not to take anything seriously.

Five years. Then it ends.

And now… the day I got my divorce papers… was the same day.

Funny.

“Yeah,” I said quietly, gripping my bag tighter. “I went out to prepare something.”

I did.

A divorce certificate. That counted, right?

He nodded like it was nothing. “Good. At least you didn’t forget this year.”

This year.

Did he know… this was also the day everything ended?

My thoughts felt messy, tangled, but I didn’t say anything.

“I’m flying to Paris tomrrow," he continued, adjusting his cuff like he was talking about business. “Taking Amber with me. She’s been wanting to go for a while.”

Of course she did.

“So I cleared today,” he added, glancing at his watch. “I booked a place. Rooftop, private, no bullshit interruptions. We’ll celebrate properly this time.”

Properly.

Now?

After everything?

“I’ll give you your gift later,” he said, already grabbing his jacket. “Get ready. We’re leaving.”

He walked toward the door like it was already decided. Like I would follow.

I didn’t move. Not even a step.

He stopped when he realized, then turned back, his brows pulling together. “What are you doing? Don’t just stand there.”

I looked at him.

This man.

The one I waited for, loved, endured for five years.

Should I tell him now?

Should I just say… it’s over?

My lips parted. But nothing came out.

After a few seconds, I lowered my gaze. “I… have something to finish. You go ahead. I’ll follow later.”

He stared at me for a moment, like he was trying to read something. Then he gave a short nod. “Fine. Don’t take too long.”

And just like that, he left.

The door closed. His car started outside.

I walked to the window and watched as it drove away, slowly disappearing past the gate.

First time in five years… he remembered our anniversary but one month late.

And the first time, I didn’t care anymore.

I took the document out of my bag.

Brand new. Clean. Final.

I placed it on the table.

Then I picked up my suitcase. Everything I had left.

I walked to the door, paused for a second then opened it and stepped out.

This time, I didn’t look back.