That was how much he trusted me. Or maybe—That was how little he cared.
The pen moved swiftly across the paper. One signature. Then another. Then another.
Just like that. Years of marriage. My title. My place in this pack. Gone.
Signed away in less than a minute.
“There,” he said, sliding the documents back toward me. “Done.”
I picked them up carefully, my hands steady despite everything.
“Thank you.”
He finally looked at me then.
“Stay,” he said. “We’ll have lunch after this.”
Faye perked up at that, her smile widening.
“Yes, let’s eat together!” she chimed in sweetly.
I met his gaze.
For a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes. Expectation. Control.
“I’m not feeling well,” I said calmly.
His brows furrowed slightly.
“Then I’ll have someone bring you medicine.”
“I’ll manage,” I replied.
And before he could say anything else, I turned and walked away.
The hallway felt quieter this time. Or maybe it was just me. I stopped near a large window, the city stretching out below.
Then my hand moved to my stomach again.
“Just a little longer,” I whispered. “I promise… I’ll give you a better life.”