Blood dripped down the side of my face. My vision was tinged with red.
It felt like every ounce of strength in my body had been sucked out. But still, I forced myself to stand.
My voice trembled, filled with despair.
“Cortland. I want a divorce.”
His face turned dark instantly. “A divorce? You’re threatening me with that again?”
For some reason, he absolutely loathed the word divorce.
Without warning, he grabbed the white box—my baby’s ashes—that still hadn’t been placed into the fire.
“You want a divorce?” he snapped. “Fine. Then let’s start with him. Clean break. No loose ends.”
Just like that, he hurled the box into the fire.
“No!”
I screamed and lunged toward the flames, but they held me back.
I could only watch as the fire consumed the box, reducing it to ashes, until even the final traces had crumbled into dust.
“You’re insane, Cortland!” I shrieked, my voice broken.
He looked down at me coldly. “You don’t get to use divorce as leverage anymore.”
“The money you loaned the Dorances,” he said, “I’ll return all of it today. From now on, we’re done. You have no more say in the company, and no right to order me around.”