I Chose Me Over My Marriage novel Chapter 8

Without another word, she hung up on him.

Staring at the disconnected screen, an explosive fury rushed straight to his brain.

His chiseled, impossibly handsome face turned terrifyingly dark.

Good. Excellent.

How dared she actually hang up on him!

He was going to utterly destroy her little rebellion and make her beg for forgiveness.

Having successfully finalized her paperwork, Lyra stopped by a print shop on her way back to the estate to run off the divorce papers.

The moment she stepped through the front door, the maid rushed over to relieve her of her bags.

"Where is Maxwell?" Lyra scanned the empty, echoing living room.

The maid looked thoroughly confused. "Wasn't he at the hospital with you?"

Lyra slowly raised a delicate brow.

Blushing with acute embarrassment, the maid stammered out an excuse. "He hasn't been home in days. I just assumed... well, that work had kept him tied up."

A humorless smile touched Lyra's lips.

Maxwell was incredibly busy, indeed.

Busy attending to Aria's every whim.

She had foolishly believed he was already home waiting for her when he called earlier.

Clearly, she had overestimated him once again.

To be fair, he had never given a damn about her. Why would he rush home simply because she asked him to?

It was entirely her own fault for expecting basic decency.

Walking straight up to the master bedroom, she confidently signed the divorce papers before dialing his number.

It rang three times before he aggressively rejected the call.

Annoyed, she dialed repeatedly, only to hit his voicemail every single time.

Was he actually locked in an important meeting?

Pulling up her messenger, she quickly texted Leo: [Is Maxwell in a meeting?]

His reply was instant: [Apologies, Mrs. Sterling. He is currently out of the office. I am not privy to his personal schedule.]

Staring at the phrase 'personal schedule,' she knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was with Aria.

Even though her feelings for him had already died, a sickening chill still crept down her spine.

For twelve grueling years, she had offered up her entire heart on a silver platter.

Even a block of pure ice should have melted just a fraction under that much heat.

But his merciless apathy was as solid as a glacier, seeping into her bones and making every joint ache with a phantom cold.

If he was wrapped up with Aria, there was zero chance he would be home to sign the papers today.

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