Celestine noticed that Chester had left her a message not long ago.
[Chester]: Celestine, come home. We need to talk.
[Chester]: About that agreement. Time’s running out.
Her grip tightened around her phone, knuckles turning white.
So, he’d received it after all.
At least it hadn’t been lost.
She let out a quiet sigh.
After hesitating for a long while, she waited until Gideon and Cynthia had changed and come out. With an apologetic smile, she said her goodbyes..
“Next time, dinner’s on me.”
Cynthia clung to the hem of her dress, wide–eyed. “Miss Angel, is it something very important?”
Celestine smoothed a gentle hand over the little girl’s cheek. “Yes, sweetheart. It really is.”
Then she turned to Gideon, biting her lower lip. “I have to go, Mr. Prescott. I’ll try to come up with a solution for your surgery
a as I can.”
Gideon looked down at the files in his hands, the cold sheen of his glasses reflecting his distance. He didn’t say a word, keeping his silence even as she left.
Vernon watched the scene and could only sigh inwardly–tonight, everyone at the office would be working overtime until the lights went out.
Celestine hurried back to Emerald Heights.
“Ma’am.”
The butler and housekeepers greeted her as she walked in. They were busy picking up puzzle pieces and building blocks scattered across the floor.
Normally, when Celestine was around, she’d insist the kids clean up their ow It was rare to see such chaos.
Everyone missed the way things used to be when she was here. She spoiled the
- ys.
Chapter 96
children, yes, but never let them run wild the way Miss Sinclair did.
Celestine gave a cool nod in greeting.
Oddly, she didn’t see the kids or Joanna anywhere on her way in.
She headed upstairs to the study and knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
She stepped inside, getting straight to the point. “You’ve read the agreement? Is there anything you want to add?”
“So eager?” Chester paused, pen hovering above the paper. “I think we should talk, properly. This house shouldn’t go on like this.”
Celestine cut him off, voice steady and cold. “Chester, you never loved me, did you? If it weren’t for that night, we never would have gotten married.”
She no longer wished for the illusion of a happy family–freedom was all she
wanted now.
Chester studied her in silence, realizing that he’d never truly understood the woman standing before him. But maybe it wasn’t too late.
He set his pen down. “I have issues with the first and fourth terms.”
Celestine quickly reviewed the divorce agreement in her mind.
The first term: she would keep the two properties at Lakeshore Bay and South District. One had been her parents‘ home before Uncle Murdock’s family sold it out from under them–Chester had bought it at auction. The other was the apartment where she and Chester had lived before they got married.
She didn’t want anything else.
The fourth term: she would voluntarily give up custody of the children, but would be allowed to visit them once a month.
She couldn’t see how any of this was unreasonable.
“You think it’s too much?” She frowned.
“Yeah,” Chester replied. “I don’t have time to be running all over the city. Asking for both places is too much.”
He glanced at her still–swollen cheek, the faint red marks adding a fragile kind of beauty. Loosening his tie, he went on quietly, “And the fourth term–are you sure you can handle that?”
21:13
She hadn’t expected him to be so difficult.
The apartment was closer to work, but Chester hadn’t stepped foot in it since their wedding. And as for the kids, she’d already given up hope. But she was still their mother–she only wanted the chance, just once a month, to see them growing up healthy.
Her eyes stung, but she forced herself to yield a little. “Chester, I’ll compromise on the first term. But the fourth–no less.”
“Alright,” he said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
He rose, opened the safe, and pulled out an old, yellowed document, handing it to
her.
Celestine’s heart skipped. Something felt off.
She looked down at the paper he’d given her–and her breath caught.
It wasn’t the divorce agreement she’d sent.
It was the prenuptial agreement she’d drafted six years ago, she’d still believed in their future together.
all on her own, when
