The divorce papers hit the table in front of me with a bang.
The sound was loud and harsh, loud enough to cut through the soft music and make everyone in the banquet hall turn their heads.
"Sign it."
Lucien Drake did not lower his voice.
He didn't have to.
There was instant silence.
There were crystal chandeliers shining above. Dozens of cameras stopped working in the middle of a flash. A heavy silence replaced the laughter that had filled the room just a few minutes earlier.
I looked at the papers.
Divorce deal.
The words burned into my mind, but my hand shook so much that I had to curl my fingers into my palm to stop it.
My husband sat across from me. He was the CEO that everyone loved, the man that the city feared, and the man who had only married me three months earlier.
Lucien Drake didn't look at me.
Not even once.
"I don't have all night," he said in a cold voice. "Put your name on it."
A murmur went around the room.
I could feel a lot of curious and excited eyes creeping over my skin. This was not a big surprise. The experience was fun.
Someone chuckled quietly.
"So it's finally happening."
Another voice came out, not very well hidden. "She lasted longer than I thought."
My throat tightened.
I slowly raised my eyes and made myself breathe.
"Why here?" I asked.
My speech sounded too calm. I was even surprised.
Lucien finally looked at me. His dark eyes were sharp and distant, as if I were a stranger.
"Because I don't like things that aren't done," he said. "And that's because Vivian is back."
That name hurt like a knife.
Vivian.
Before I came along, he had loved a woman. He had never stopped standing up for the woman he was famous for.
Lucien said in a calm voice, "I won't let her be humiliated." "Not by a mistake."
A mistake.
That is who I was.
This time, the laughter was louder and clearer.
I heard it from the left. From the right. From behind me.
My fingers moved without thinking toward my lower abdomen.
I was in a quiet clinic two weeks ago, looking at a test result that I didn't want to believe.
Good job. You are going to have a baby.
Lucien didn't know.
No one knew.
I was going to tell him tonight.
I almost laughed at the irony.
"I'll pay you back," Lucien said, holding out the pen to me. "The amount that was agreed upon. You will leave quietly. " Not a single scene."
In a quiet way.
Like this isn't already a show.
I took the pen.
The metal felt cool against my skin.
"Is there a problem?" Lucien asked, his face showing anger. "You agreed to the terms when you married me."
Yes.
I had agreed.
I agreed because my mother was going to die. My medical bills were piling up faster than I could manage. He provided her with a contract instead of offering sympathy.
One year of being married.
No love. No interference. No hopes.
I should have known better than to hope.
Hope had still found me.
I wrote my name.
The pen moved slowly and carefully over the page, sealing something I could never take back with each stroke.
Lucien stood up when I was done.
Without a second thought. There was no looking back.
People started to clap.
Not too loud. Not excited.
Polite. Making fun of.
It seemed as though the audience had just witnessed the conclusion of a dull performance.
"Congrats," someone said in a casual way. "You are now free."
Lucien had already looked at Vivian.
She stood a few steps away, dressed in white, sparkling, and sure of herself, as if this night had been planned just for her.
She smiled.
I had never seen Lucien's face soften like that before.
"I told you I'd take care of it," he said in a soft voice.
Vivian's eyes moved to me for a half-second, just long enough to show that she was happy, before she put her arm around his.
I stayed in my seat.
My legs wouldn't move.
As Lucien led her away, the room was filled with whispers. He stood up straight and relaxed, as if he had just gotten rid of a burden.
No one stopped me.
No one talked to me.
I carefully stood up, leaning against the table, when a wave of dizziness hit me.
Too quickly.
I told myself that it was just stress.
The night air outside was cold and rough.
As I got to the steps, my knees gave out.
A black car drove up in front of me.
Lucien went outside.
For a while, I thought he had followed me to say something, anything.
He instead gave her an envelope.
He said, "The transfer has been set up." "You'll get the money tonight."
I didn't reach for it.
"Was I really that hard to deal with?" I asked nicely.
Lucien stopped.
For just a second.
"No," he said. "You didn't matter."
The word hurt more than the divorce papers.
After giving the driver the envelope, he went back to his car.
The door shut.
The engine started up.
My marriage ended suddenly, without any tears or yelling, just indifference.
I couldn't remember how I got back home.
I only remember that I locked the door to the bathroom behind me.
As soon as I bent over the sink, I felt sick to my stomach.
I barely made it on time.
When I looked up, my reflection looked pale, had hollow eyes, and was strange.
My phone buzzed.
Lucien Drake sent $50,000,000.
There is no message.
There is no explanation.
I slid down the wall and sat on the cold floor.
The pain hit then.
Quick, sharp, and scary.
I couldn't breathe.
I put both of my hands on my stomach and felt a warm, scary feeling spread.
"No," I said softly. "No, please..."
I looked down, and the floor was red.
The blood collected under me, bright and cruel.
My sight became blurry.
With shaky hands, I fumbled for my phone and called 911.
As the noise echoed in my ears, one thought stood out above all others.
Lucien Drake broke up with me tonight.
And he wouldn't know that the kid he was throwing away was bleeding on the bathroom floor with me.