Slowly stepping away from his hold, I kissed him on the lips before sliding in the booth opposite to him. “I hope I didn’t make you wait long. My sleeping pattern’s been unpleasant. One night, I’ll sleep all the way through, but the next I’ll be up feeling nauseous at all hours.” He gave me a smile yet said nothing else.
“How are you? Well, I hope.” I was gently asking him the question I dreaded to voice since he obviously was devastated and not doing well.
“I’m shattered, as expected.” He pressed his lips together, his eyes cast low. “But, of course, you know that.”
“I do,” I sighed, knowing just how much he was going through a rough period at the moment. “I take it that you’ve seen Father.”
“Yes. Yes, I have been speaking to him,” he replied right as the waiter appeared and greeted us with such a bright demeanor it somehow lightened the ambiance around the table. Once the waiter had left, his serious manner resurfaced. “Your father has a team of lawyers who could possibly expedite everything.”
He cleared his throat, looking torn. “Ava, you know I don’t want a divorce, and at first, I refused to give you one. Even now, I still reject the idea of it … but it seems that your life has shifted at such a speedy rate that I have no means of knowing how to get you back, let alone catching up to you. It’s a given that your betrayal gutted me beyond repair, but I believed that marriage is about working together through the highs and lows.
“Even after you confided that you are pregnant, even through the anguish, I optimistically thought that maybe your betrayal had to be done to receive a miracle. I felt it was a sacrifice before we could experience the joys of what parenthood might bring. We’ve known each other all our lives, and the thought of living a life without you makes me quite ill. I’m willing to risk defying your father to have you back in my life. I love you. You’re my wife, and you’re asking me to do the impossible.”
This was shattering me to pieces, yet I knew I couldn’t backtrack, or I would be risking far more than what I bargained for. I knew this process would be almost unbearable to go through, but I also knew, sooner or later, this would pass. However, listening to him speak with a pained voice made my resolve fracture a bit.
“Ash, saying sorry doesn’t account for all the hurt I’m putting you through right now. I could say all the right things to apologize for my rotten actions and own selfishness, but I know nothing can ease the ache that’s growing inside your heart. You must understand that I’m not only doing this because I’m pregnant. You’ve known all along how much he meant to me, and I know, deep down, that was one of the reasons behind your decision to hide the truth from me.
“In the first half of our marriage, how many tortured nights did I wake from a nightmare, crying uncontrollably and completely distraught because of wall the guilt and regret in my heart was weighing heavily on me to a point where it was becoming too hard for me to go on? You knew that, if I ever found out that he wasn’t dead, I’d scour the entire earth until I found him.” He didn’t have to say anything to confirm my suspicions. His face said it all. He, too, was a victim of his own selfishness.
“I hate myself for hurting you this way, but I’d never forgive myself if I walked away from him again. Even now, I doubt he has forgiven me for what I’ve done, for what my parents have cost him, but I’m willing to take a chance and risk it all because I would rather spend a lifetime trying to make-up for what I have done than spend a lifetime loathing myself for not doing as such.”
“I’ve always known I couldn’t compete with him. That’s why it was easy for me to keep what your father had committed, because I was guilty of wanting you for myself.”
His admission wasn’t something I hadn’t already suspected. However, it made it clearer to me that I was doing the right thing for the both of us. During all those wasted years, I could’ve been so happy. The sad thought made me even more somber.
“I could say I’m sorry, too—for keeping the truth from you—but I cannot.” His face was grim, yet it seemed it was finally dawning on him that he and I could no longer be together.
“We own several homes in America and here, money and all the other assets we have together … We have to discuss these details.” Yeah, he was definitely coming to terms with it. It was a relief, true, but at the same time, I felt wretched inside.
Focusing on him, I shook my head, not wanting anything from him. “All I want is to keep my own financial investments. As for the rest, it was all you, Ash. I’m not so selfish to even consider that I’m entitled to your hard-earned money because I married you.”
I didn’t understand women who sued their husbands for money and assets just because they had tied the knot. Working to earn a living was difficult enough, making sure you were investing your hard-earned cash into something more profitable was even more rigorous. I couldn’t say I had done that myself, but I had seen how Ashton had slaved himself to become successful. Even though he had gone through an affluent upbringing, he had been quite determined to make it to the top without the help of his parents’ money.
It was a brave thing to do, most especially in our kind of circle since most children wouldn’t bat an eyelash at taking money, because it was their right to have it as the future heirs.
I was lucky enough that I didn’t spend my grandparents’ trust fund by splurging on fancy vehicles, luxurious vacations, and expensive shopping trips to Harrods—okay, the shopping trip I was guilty of since I had little to no restraint when it came to small luxuries. As for the rest, I had taken a chance of reinvesting it, and the risk had paid off. Had I not, I would be joining the rest of those privileged spawns who held out for allowances until Mummy and Daddy decided to give them ultimatums to work for the family business or find someone wealthier or more powerful to marry.
My mother would’ve been proud if I had chosen that path. That way she’d have more power and control over me, which would make her feel more like a mother since she believed she could make decisions for me, truly thinking that her own reasoning would be for my interest. The blatant truth was, I didn’t really think she understood how to be a parent; therefore she’d throw little hissy fits and tantrums when she couldn’t get her way. That way, she’d appear as if she was trying to be a good, responsible mother. It was sad really, if one came to think of it. At least I could use that experience and hope to be wise enough not to repeat that kind of mistreatment to my own child.