If she hadn’t gotten cancer.
A month wouldn’t matter. She could wait.
But her life was slipping away.
She didn’t have another month to waste.
It had already been over two weeks since the diagnosis. She had just a little over five months left.
If she let things drag on—a month’s delay for the agreement to go into effect, another month to prepare the divorce papers, then waiting through the mandatory reflection period, another month—by the time she finally held the divorce certificate in her hand, three months would have vanished. She’d be left with just two months to herself.
Jessica sat there, helpless, her hands clutching the divorce papers so tightly her knuckles turned white, then slowly let them fall to her lap.
Timothy’s brow furrowed in irritation. Did she really want to leave him this badly?
She’s not just making a scene, is she?
No, he didn’t buy it for a second.
She was mute, an orphan, used to living in this tiny apartment before they got married.
After marrying him, her life had changed completely—she was someone in this world now.
How could she ever give that up?
Even if she was tired of him after seven years, she’d never let go of Henry.
And besides, who was he to let her walk away? She was mute—what right did she have to leave him?
“Alright, enough with the tragic expression,” Timothy said, his tone impatient. “The lawyer made a mistake, and I’ve already dealt with him. If you want a divorce, what’s the rush? A month or two won’t make a difference.”
He stepped closer to her.
He’d always thought Jessica was easy to handle.
Now he realized she wasn’t nearly as easy as he’d imagined.
No matter. He welcomed a challenge.
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