Celestine waited until Alistair was finally out of danger.
She walked over to Chester, who looked utterly shattered.
He looked up at her, eyes clouded with emotion. “Celly… I really thought you were gone. Joanna and 1–it was the alcohol. Nothing actually happened.”
Celestine’s face stayed unreadable. “I don’t care about the details or the excuses, Chester. Next Monday, we’ll be meeting at the city clerk’s office. Otherwise, I’m sure the tabloids would love to hear about how Mr. Fordham spent his wife’s funeral night in the arms of another woman, whether it’s here in Portside or back inland.”
Chester’s gaze turned cold and dangerous. “Celly, this isn’t funny.”
She smiled faintly. “You’re welcome to test me.”
Seeing how determined she was, Chester finally realized she wasn’t bluffing–she meant every word.
When had it started? When did she make up her mind? Was it because of him, or
was there someone else?
Chester’s eyes flickered down to her abdomen.
No–what about the baby?
He didn’t dare ask Celestine about what she’d been through these past days, so he tried to circle around it. “Did you get checked by a doctor after you were rescued?”
“There’s not exactly a hospital out at Dreadmire Hamlet,” Celestine replied, her smile turning icy. “But thanks to you, I’m still alive and kicking–not quite at death’s door yet.”
Chester let out a short breath of relief.
If she’d lost the baby, she wouldn’t be here negotiating–she’d probably be meeting him at the police station instead.
He frowned. “Celly, is there really no way back from this?”
“I don’t feel like repeating myself.” Celestine shot him a frosty glance. “I have no interest in a cheating husband.”
Chester’s handsome face twisted in shame and anger.
He couldn’t understand–just one mistake, and she had to make it into something
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Chapter 214
so dramatic?
Even if something had happened with Joanna, a man of his status… shouldn’t a wife be more understanding? More forgiving?
Especially since most wives wouldn’t spend months in a cold war, refusing to come home.
Chester tugged at his tie in frustration.
Celestine left the clinic. As she waited for the elevator, two children suddenly came running after her.
Raymond was breathless and sweaty, his cheeks flushed. “Mom, please–don’t go! Don’t leave us!”
Celestine instinctively reached for her handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his brow. But as soon as she started, she simply handed the handkerchief to him.
Raymond’s eyes lit up with hope.
Mom used to wipe his forehead just like that. Maybe she still loved him!
But then Celestine’s cool, distant expression returned. “You shouldn’t be running
around like that. It’s reckless.”
Raymond blinked in confusion.
Even how he walked was wrong now?
“I will divorce your father,” Celestine said, her gaze sweeping over both children. “After that, I’ll be busy. Maybe I’ll see you once a month, maybe every two. If something urgent comes up, have your father contact me.”
Raymond heard what she was really saying–even after the divorce, she had no intention of taking either of them with her.
His eyes filled with tears again. “Mom, please… I want to stay with you. Don’t leave Dad, I’m begging you.”
Celestine gently patted his shoulder.
Her silence was answer enough.
Then she looked at Celia, who’d hurried after her brother. The little girl’s dark eyes kept darting away whenever Celestine tried to meet them.
Celestine watched her quietly, waiting for the day Celia would tell her the truth about the “accident.”
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13:45
But the elevator arrived, and Celia still pretended nothing was wrong.
As Celestine was about to step in, Celia blurted out, “Mom, my brother and I are still so little. If you and Dad get divorced now, it’ll cause us serious psychological
harm.”
Celestine couldn’t help but laugh a little at words so far beyond her daughter’s
years.
