Even if, by some miracle, she actually met the right person in the future, Briony would need at least two or three years to really get to know him before she’d even consider marrying again.
So Stewart’s clause didn’t feel like much of a restriction at all.
Three years—it wasn’t a lifetime.
“This condition doesn’t really affect me,” Briony said. “What worries me is whether Stewart’s lawyer has hidden any legal traps in the agreement.”
Mr. Hughes nodded. “I understand your concerns, Ms. Kensington. After all, this was drawn up personally by Attorney Wentworth, so I was extra careful reviewing it. But as far as I can tell, there’s nothing questionable in this version.”
“That’s a relief, then, Mr. Hughes. Thank you.”
Just then, Briony’s phone rang.
It was Carl.
She answered, “Carl? Did you talk to Stewart? What did he say?”
“I spoke to Mr. Wentworth,” Carl replied. “He said the soonest you can both sign the divorce papers at the courthouse is next Monday.”
Next Monday.
Today was Monday—so, another week.
Briony frowned. “Can’t we do it tomorrow?”
“I’m sorry,” Carl’s voice was heavy, “There’s a situation on Mr. Wentworth’s end. The earliest he can make it is next Monday.”
Briony didn’t dwell on it. She simply repeated, “If he bails on me again, I’ll take this signed agreement straight to court and file for dissolution.”
“Ma’am, you have my word.” Carl sounded tired. “Mr. Wentworth really is ready to let go this time. He won’t back out again.”
“Carl, just so you know—I’m recording this call.”
Carl paused on the other end.
“If Stewart doesn’t show up next Monday, I’ll take this phone recording and the signed agreement to the courthouse.”
With that, Briony hung up.
Her phone had a built-in recording function.
After being played so many times by Stewart, she’d learned to cover all her bases.
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