Chapter 26:
As Kristian picked up the pen, his fingers brushed against the document, pausing over Freya’s elegant, looping signature. He found himself wondering about her.
He wondered about her emotions in the moments she signed their marriage away. He was the one who insisted they marry, and now he was the one insisting to end it all.
He finally spoke, his voice tinged with a rare hint of remorse as he looked up at her. “Freya.”
Freya, perched anxiously on the edge of the sofa, fiddled with her phone as she awaited a message from Trent. “What is it?”
Kristian, trying to soften the awkward atmosphere, ventured cautiously, “If you ever find yourself needing help after the divorce, remember, you can always turn to me. My grandpa and parents—they all hold you in high regard. Even if our paths as spouses diverge, I still hope we can remain friends.”
Freya looked up from her phone, her expression unreadable, her voice low and soft. “I once came across a viewpoint online that I really agreed with,” she remarked.
Intrigued, Kristian leaned in. “What is it?”
Freya’s lips curved into a faint, ironic smile. “A good ex is one you never hear from again.”
Kristian’s response dwindled into silence.
Freya emphasized further, “Particularly an ex-husband.”
Stung, Kristian’s composure snapped. He grabbed the divorce papers and signed his name with a swift, forceful stroke.
What on earth was he thinking, trying to be kind to her? She had a way of pricking at his nerves like tiny thorns.
“Don’t forget that viewpoint,” Kristian retorted, his voice heavy with unspoken emotions. “Be a good ex-wife, won’t you?”
Freya reached for the agreement with a smirk, a weight visibly lifting from her shoulders. Now free from the financial burdens of supporting Kristian and Ashley, she quipped, “No need to stress. You’ll never hear from me after our divorce.”
Kristian’s irritation had escalated to new heights. With a sharp tug, he snatched his coat from the hook and stormed upstairs. Lingering another moment might just push him over the edge.
Freya, on the other hand, seemed unfazed by his tempestuous mood. Clutching the freshly signed divorce papers, she headed up the stairs without looking back.
Ever since that life-altering phone call six months earlier, the chasm between them had widened, relegating them to separate bedrooms—a situation for which Freya was silently grateful.
The thought of accidentally conceiving a child amidst their marital unraveling was a nightmare she was glad to avoid.
Secured within the confines of her room, Freya set the documents on her desk just as her phone vibrated with urgency. It was Trent. His message popped up. “I’m in Jeucwell now.”
Without missing a beat, she replied, “Shall we meet tomorrow?”
No sooner had she sent the reply than her phone erupted into a lively ring.
“Hello?” Freya answered swiftly.
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.
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