Billionaire, I Am Not Your Wife! novel Chapter 31

Chapter 29: The Divorce Papers

Logan’s POV

The package arrived at 9:47 AM on a Tuesday.

I know the exact time because I was in my home office, unable to go to my company because I was waiting for Sedona to come back. I was staring at a contract that had been open on my laptop for forty minutes without reading an entire word of the contents.

I’d been doing that a lot lately-staring at things without seeing them, moving through my days,m sluggishly like I was a man who had been put underwater for so long.

Mrs. Peterson knocked and brought it in herself, which was unusual. She normally left packages in the foyer.

“This came by courier, Mr. Hayes. The man said it was urgent and waited for me to sign for it.”

I looked up from my laptop. “Who’s it from?”

‘There’s no return address. Just your name.” She set it on the desk, gave me one of those looks she’d been giving me all week, the look that she was worried about me, that she was noticing the cracks in my marriage and Sedona’s disapperance with no valid explanataion to give her, but she didn’t say anything, just dropped it and left.

The package was small, padded envelope, my name written on the front in handwriting I didn’t immediately recognize. It wasn’t Sedona’s neat writing. Had she sent someone to write on her behalf?

My heart lifted anyway-traitorously, stupidly. Maybe she’d finally decided to respond. Maybe this was her reaching out, Maybe she was tired and was trying to come back home.

I opened the envelope.

Inside was a smaller envelope, and I took that out as well, opening it slowly as I looked inside and saw that it contained papers, folded neatly in thirds.

I unfolded them slowly, scanning the first page.

Petition for Dissolution of Marriage.

Sedona Claire Hayes, Petitioner, vs. Logan William Hayes, Respondent.

The words blurred, as I closed my eyes and cleaned them before reading it again, but the words remained

the same.

She’d actually done it. She’d actually filed for divorce.

I flipped to the last page, looking for what I already suspected I’d find there. Her signature, neat and deliberate, on the signature line. Dated a week ago.

Sedona had signed her divorce papers a week ago and sent them to me without a single word of warning,

without a phone call, without even a text message.

The anger came first, filling me so intensely I had to set the papers down carefully on my desk or risk crumpling them. Fury at her audacity, her coldness, her complete refusal to even discuss this like an adult. We had three years of marriage. We had a son. And she was ending it all through a courier like we didn’t matter.

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