I told the maid to take our son back to his room. Then, I pulled out the divorce papers.
“Sign these.”
But Cormac didn’t even glance at them before tearing them apart.
“I told you,” he said, his voice low and hard, “you will be my wife for the rest of your life. Not a single day less.”
Then, almost helplessly, he added, “Hillerin won’t compete with you for anything. Why do you have to make this such a big deal?”
He sighed in resignation, adding, “Let’s just forget this ever happened. I’ll even make amends for you.”
Just like that, he strode off, heading straight to comfort that homewrecker Hillerin—without even hearing the last words I said.
Cormac’s idea of “making amends” was to have Hillerin move into the villa next door.
Hillerin, cheeks glowing with pride, stood in the driveway directing movers as they carried her furniture inside.
When she spotted me, she flashed a smug little smile.
“Stacia,” she said sweetly, “I told Cormac I liked your interior design, so he had this one done the same way.”
“Even the nursery has the same layout,” she added.