When Family Became a Place I Couldn’t Return To novel Chapter 30

"Carrie's fine," Brody said, his voice cold. "I'm here to talk about us."

"What is there left to talk about?" Nelly shot back without thinking.

Brody held up the divorce papers in front of the camera. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

He was right. Their divorce wasn't over yet. Nelly realized she had been doing everything she could to avoid facing Brody. She took a deep breath and opened the door.

Brody walked in, his eyes drifting right to the kitchen. The island was cluttered with groceries, and the fridge door was still hanging open.

"You haven't had your meal yet?" he asked, slipping off his coat. Out of habit, he almost passed it to her, but Nelly stepped back before he could. For a second he looked awkward, but then just smirked and draped his coat over a chair. He set the divorce papers on the console table.

"That's right, so let's not waste time. I took my stomach meds and I need to eat soon," Nelly said, not bothering to be polite. She grabbed the divorce agreement and went straight to the sofa.

"Our prenup says our assets are separate, but your thing with Sheila counts as cheating, and I have proof. That means I'm legally entitled to more than half your stuff. Still, since Carrie will stay with you, I'm willing to—"

She stopped mid-sentence. There was a loud rustling from the kitchen. Nelly glanced over and saw Brody throwing several packages into the trash.

"Brody, what are you doing?"

"These instant meals are unhealthy. I told you before, you should be careful about what you eat," Brody replied, sounding as smug as ever.

"Are you serious? We're getting divorced. You don't get to control what I eat anymore."

"I have high standards for contracts. But since you're not feeling well, let's eat first." He started unwrapping the steak, apparently planning to cook.

Nelly paused, then let out a short, disbelieving laugh. She walked over, studying him like he was someone she’d never met before. She couldn't tell if he was being cold as usual or if he was pretending for some reason. But one thing was clear: he didn't care about the divorce at all.

The realization felt like a sharp splinter stabbing her heart. It was a small pain, but it spread through every memory she had of him. She had tried so hard to warm his frozen heart, but all she got in return was her own hope turning cold and numb. In the end, she had lost.

"Brody, what is the point of all this?"

He didn't answer. He just looked down and started cutting shallow lines into the steak. It was obvious he'd never handled a kitchen knife before. His movements were slow and awkward, and suddenly the blade slipped, nicking his finger. Blood welled up, mixing with the juices on the meat. Still, he acted like nothing had happened and kept going.

"Brody!"