The Unwavering Heart That Broke novel Chapter 62

Madonna watched Nathalie rush away as if escaping, her own face calm and unreadable. She turned and headed to the study, knocking twice before going in.

“We need to figure out exactly what happened last night,” she said, her tone icy as she faced her husband and son. “We’re not going to accuse someone without proof.”

Lance looked over. “Mom, what did you talk to her about?”

Madonna’s eyes flickered for just a second. “She’s agreed not to ask for a divorce, at least for now.”

Lance’s whole face lit up. “Seriously?”

“I said for now. Whether she brings it up again is on you,” Madonna replied.

Lance stepped in and hugged her. “Mom, you’re a lifesaver.”

Then he was gone, already clutching the guest list from the night before. He’d have to visit each family with a child around Jasper’s age to get to the bottom of things.

Madonna brushed off her clothes, sighing. “That boy... He’s grown but still so immature.”

Carl watched her carefully. “What exactly did you say to Nathalie?”

Madonna closed the door, walked in, and settled into a chair. “Those two just aren’t right for each other. If they’re going to end it, so be it. But before they do, we need to find Lance a suitable match. I absolutely won’t allow anything messy to happen with Felice.”

Carl frowned. “If Lance finds out, he’ll never agree.”

“Oh, he’ll agree,” Madonna said, sounding completely certain. “If Nathalie is the one helping him pick his future wife, do you really think their marriage will last?”

Carl stared at her for a long moment. “We never should’ve let them marry in the first place.” He let out a heavy sigh.

Damaris got her. She cared. Unlike her parents, who seemed to only have eyes for Felice. Whether Nathalie was hurt or not, they never really cared.

Damaris hugged her again. “Lance is the worst. If he’d agreed to the divorce earlier, you wouldn’t have had to put yourself through all this. When have you ever been treated so badly?”

Nathalie couldn’t stop the tears. Everything just came pouring out, all the hurt and sadness she’d kept bottled up. It felt even worse after what Madonna had said earlier that day.

She barely got out two sobs before her phone rang. She glanced at the screen—turns out it was the voice-over company calling.

She wiped her face quickly and picked up. “Hello?”

“Ms. Blair, do you remember me? You auditioned with us a while ago. Your voice and delivery are exactly what our role needs. We’d love to invite you to work with us. When would you be available to go over the contract details?”