No Second Baby No You Only Divorce (Scarlett and Vincent) novel Chapter 6

When the bedroom door creaked open, Vincent automatically reached over and flicked off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The only light came from the faint glow of the hallway.

He slipped his robe off one shoulder, his voice flat and cold—no warmth, no greeting. "It's late. Let's just get this over with. I have plans later."

The hallway light seeped in, falling on the figure in the doorway and blurring their features. A thick, heavy silence stretched on. Then a nervous voice spoke—not Scarlett's.

"Mr. Stewart… it's me. Freya."

Vincent froze. He reached over and flipped the lamp back on, squinting at Freya standing in the doorway, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

Frowning in confusion, he asked, "She isn't back yet?"

Freya nodded, cold sweat beading on her forehead. "No, Mr. Stewart. Not yet."

The air in the room turned thick with tension.

Freya could tell Vincent was furious. Helpless, she tried to soften the blow. "Mrs. Stewart usually gets home by six. She was even early last month. Maybe something came up at the hospital today?"

Vincent saw exactly what she was doing, but he only shrugged. "Got it."

Freya hesitated, wanting to urge him to go to bed early, but before she could speak, Vincent swung his legs over the bed and stood up. She clamped her mouth shut and swallowed her words—this wasn't the time.

Five minutes later, he was dressed and heading for the door, keys in hand.

Freya watched him leave from the doorway, still feeling vaguely like she'd forgotten something.

It wasn't until Vincent's car disappeared around the corner that she slapped her forehead. She'd forgotten the things in the study that Scarlett had asked her to take care of.

In the car, Vincent had just pulled out of the neighborhood when his phone rang.

It was Sabrina.

His face softened at once—all the sharp edge of his anger melted away, replaced by a gentle warmth he had never once shown Scarlett.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice dropping to a low, tender murmur.

Sabrina's voice was soft, almost apologetic. "Vincent, I have a big concert tomorrow night, you know how important it is to me. But Vanessa's kindergarten is having a parent‑child event tomorrow afternoon, and I… I can't make it."

She didn't need to say anything more. Vincent already knew what she was asking.

"I'll send Scarlett. Don't you worry about a thing."

Sabrina let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you. I already talked to Vanessa, she's thrilled. Just let Scarlett know, okay?"

"I will. Go practice. You'll be amazing."

He hung up, pulled over to the curb, and reached for his phone to text Scarlett. But as he scrolled through his contacts, he froze.

He couldn't find her number.

Only then did it hit him: Scarlett hadn't reached out to call him on her own initiative in what felt like an eternity.

Once, when Scarlett had stayed home full-time to look after Vanessa, she'd called him every day to ask if he'd be home for dinner. He rarely showed up, and even when he did, he only spent time with their daughter.

After they'd talked about having a second child, she still checked in now and then to ask if he was coming home—but he never bothered to answer most of her calls. Sometimes he hung up on her; other times he just let the phone ring until it stopped.

Yet whenever he'd needed to get hold of Scarlett, her contact had always been easy to find.

But now, after scrolling through several pages, that familiar number was nowhere to be seen.

He had no idea how long he'd kept scrolling before he finally found it, and the last call log was from three months ago.

It's really been that long since we last spoke?

Vincent couldn't even remember if he'd answered her last call.

He didn't dwell on it and dialed the number, expecting it to ring.

Instead, a cold automated voice crackled over the line: "The number you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please try again later."

Vincent frowned. This had never happened before.

He tried again—same result. He called four more times, getting the same message every time, before giving up.

He meant to video call Scarlett on WhatsApp, but when he scrolled through his contacts, he realized she wasn't even on his list anymore.

When she walked in, the living room was warm and lively—her dad, Henry Theron, reading the newspaper; her mom, Diana Theron, stirring the pot in the kitchen; her older brother Nathan and his wife Violet folding clothes; and her niece Clara sitting on the floor doing a jigsaw puzzle.

Clara looked up when Scarlett walked in, her eyes going wide. She let her puzzle pieces drop and ran over, wrapping her little arms tightly around Scarlett's legs.

"Auntie! You're home!"

Scarlett knelt and hugged Clara close, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. "I am. Did you miss me?"

Clara nodded, nuzzling her face into Scarlett's neck. "So much! I told Mommy to save you some smoked salmon, you love that, right?"

She wrapped her arms around Scarlett’s neck, kissed her cheek, then called toward the kitchen: "Mommy! Daddy! Auntie's here! Can we have the smoked salmon now?"

At the sound of her shout, Nathan and Violet both came out of the kitchen.

When they saw it was Scarlett, surprise faded at once from Nathan's eyes. He'd never approved of her marrying Vincent, had warned her about the Stewart family, but she'd never listened to him.

Seeing his stern look, Violet nudged his ribs, then gave Scarlett a warm smile.

"It's good you're back, dinner will be ready in no time."

Clara stepped in front of Violet, took her hand, and said, "Mommy, Auntie loves smoked salmon the most! Last time I wanted some, you said we had to wait for Auntie to come back first. Now that Auntie's here, can I…"

Violet tapped Clara's nose and said fondly, "You little glutton—I'll get some ready for you, then."

Clara jumped for joy, clapping her tiny hands, her two ponytails bouncing back and forth nonstop.

Nathan, however, didn't give Scarlett so much as a glance. He just frowned and scolded Clara sharply, "You're wasting your warmth on someone who's cold to you, yet you keep fawning over them anyway."

Scarlett had a wonderful family—her parents, older brother, and sister-in-law all loved her deeply. But she had poured all her time and love into the Stewart family, devoting herself to them wholeheartedly without a single regret or complaint. Yet those sacrifices never earned her even one thank-you; instead, they only hurt her own family.

In truth, she'd been too ashamed to come home tonight. But standing here now, she knew her family's love was real after all—her sharp-tongued but soft-hearted brother and father, her mother who'd cried for her every night, her gentle, sensible sister-in-law, and her sweet, lively niece…

She knew she had to hold tight to the people who loved her and gave her warmth.

The Stewarts? Their coldness, their lies, their indifference? It was time to let it all go.