Chapter 3

Maya's POV:

I could see the shock flash across Declan’s face the second the words left my mouth, his eyes widening just a fraction, jaw going slack for half a heartbeat before he caught himself and I wasn’t entirely surprised.

He had always known how I felt. He had seen the way I looked at him across the breakfast table, the way I lingered in doorways hoping he would stay a minute longer, the way I had quietly carried the weight of my gratitude like it was love. He knew I cherished every smile he gave me, and every debt he had paid for my family.

That was exactly why my demand for a divorce hit him but it made me realize that I had to be responsible for my own feelings now because he didn’t owe me anything. Our agreement had been crystal clear from the start but I had fallen anyway.

Torn, I turned on my heel to leave the hospital hallway, when his hand shot out and caught my wrist, fingers digging in just enough to stop me.

“You’re nothing without me, Maya.” He said, voice low and edged with something ugly. “If you walk away, I will cut off every allowance I give you and your family. Besides, your mother’s cancer is back and those bills won’t pay themselves but I won’t lift a finger to help if you dare divorce me.”

I stared at him, stunned.

How had I never noticed how stupid he sounded until this exact moment? The man who had once seemed larger than life now looked small, petty, clutching at control like a child who didn’t want to share his toys yet there was a truth buried in what he said.

I had no steady income of my own, no safety net except what he had provided. My mother’s treatments were already piling up again, and the thought of watching her fade without help made my stomach twist.

Still, I had savings tucked away from every “reward” he had handed me after a deal I helped close and there was the plot of land I had bought with some of that money. The ideas I had fed him over five years, every pack strategy, and every boardroom solution, had been worth far more than the debts he cleared.

I didn’t owe him an heir I had never been able to give. He had done his part; I had done mine in every way that actually mattered so I refused to feel indebted anymore.

It was my own fault, really. I had wanted too much. I had let myself dream that the man who saved my family might one day love me back. And because he knew I loved him, he had decided to take advantage, offering me the scraps of a concubine’s position like it was a kindness, certain I would crawl back rather than lose him.

The best thing I could do for myself now was let him go. Deep down, though, a fragile part of me still hoped my decision would finally push him over the edge. That he would fight for me the way I had always fought for him.

So, I yanked my wrist free, skin burning where his fingers had been. “I’ll sort out my own problems.” I told him, voice steadier than I felt. “I don’t need you.”

As I walked away, his voice chased me down the corridor. “You’re nothing without me, Maya. Very soon you’ll crawl back begging for help. Watch.”

I didn’t look back, I pushed through the door into Mom’s private room, forcing my face into something calm. She was half-propped against the pillows, eyes sharp despite the exhaustion lining them. “Why does your expression look like that all of a sudden?” She asked, studying me too closely.

“Nothing’s wrong.” I lied, smoothing the blanket over her legs. “Just tired from the drive.” Dad glanced toward the doorway, frowning. “Where’s Declan? He was right behind you.”

“He had something important to attend to.” I said lightly. “Pack business. You know how it is.”

They accepted it without pressing, and I stayed until visiting hours ended, holding Mom’s hand while the machines beeped softly around us. When I finally returned to the Packhouse that night, Declan wasn’t there. The silence pressed in until my knees gave out right in the middle of the living room.

I sank to the cold floor, and placed.y forehead against the rug, letting tears soaked the fibers while my shoulders shook because he didn't come after me, nor did he beg me to stay. Still, I told myself that if I pushed him hard enough, he would finally realize what he was losing and choose me.

So, the next morning I reached for my phone before the sun was fully up. I called Dad’s old friend, our family lawyer, and my voice didn’t even waver when I asked him to draft mutual divorce papers.

“Mutual?” He repeated, surprised. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” He ended the call and called back that same hour, claiming that he had contacted Declan and he confirmed that it was mutual, which meant he could begin the paperwork and by afternoon the pages were in my hands. I signed them, then left the stack neatly centered on Declan’s desk. My fingers lingered on the edge for a second too long before I pulled away to send him a single text: ‘The divorce papers are on your desk.’

His reply came almost immediately. “Please leave the house tonight, Samantha will be moving in tomorrow. For the papers, it will be sent over.”

I thought…

For a second, I thought serving him divorce papers would make him realize but he… He really doesn't care.

I held back the tears until I reached the bedroom where I packed two suitcases with only the things that belonged to me and drove them straight to a small hotel on the edge of town. I dropped the bags in the plain room, stared at the beige walls for a while, and forced myself back to the hospital with just a change of clothes and Mom’s favorite tea.

Two days blurred past, with me staying in the hospital with my mom and giving her endless excuses as to why Declan hadn't visited her since his previous visit, yet Declan still hadn’t signed or returned the papers. Each time my phone stayed silent I told myself he was getting cold feet, that any minute he would text begging me to come home but I didn’t know how long I could wait or how to nudge him without sounding desperate, so I decided to give it one more day.

On the third morning I finally gathered the courage when my dad returned to continue looking after my mom. I sat on the edge of the bed and said the words before I could lose my nerve. “Declan and I are getting a divorce.”

They asked a series of questions, and I told them everything. When I finished, Mom’s eyes filled with tears and Dad looked ten years older. “We did this to you.” Mom whispered while Dad squeezed my shoulder. “I am so sorry we failed you.”

Their words brought tears to my eyes but I forced it back in and smiled warmly to reassure them but inside, I still hoped Declan would realize what he was throwing away so I sent him another text that afternoon, asking if he had signed the papers.

However, I received no reply. Instead, a courier arrived at the hospital an hour later with the documents and a sealed envelope tucked inside. I opened it alone in the hallway, and read it aloud. “If you ever need my help, all you have to do is go on your knees and beg. I’ll assist you then.”

The words punched straight through my ribs and I stood there crying until my feet went numb, then I sent the already signed papers to the lawyer so that it could get finalized. By evening the divorce was done and I was free but I kept the brave front for my parents, smiling when they looked, and laughing at Dad’s weak jokes. But when I wasn’t at Mom’s bedside, when I slipped back to their small rented house to shower or change, the mask cracked.

I would sit on the edge of the narrow bed and cry until my throat burned, or stare at untouched plates until the food went cold because my stomach refused to cooperate. And I had no one else to talk to because the friends I once had vanished the day Dad’s company collapsed.

Today Mom tilted her head at me the moment I walked into her room, sunlight catching the worry lines on her forehead. “Why did you come back to the hospital?” She asked gently. “We told you to take a break at home, rest for a few days.”

“I’m fine, Mom.” I said, forcing lightness into my voice as I turned to Dad, who was folding a newspaper in the corner chair. “Dad, why don’t you go home and rest for a couple of days? I’ll stay with her.”

Before he could answer, the room tilted hard and my vision swam with black spots. I felt my knees buckle, heard Mom’s startled cry, and then everything went blank. When I woke up, I was lying in a narrow hospital bed in a different ward.

The room was empty until the door clicked open and a nurse stepped in, with a clipboard in hand.

“Where’s your father?” She asked, glancing around. “He was here just a few minutes ago. I wanted to tell him your results are back.”

“He must have gone to stay with my mother.” I said, pushing myself up on my elbows. “Is everything okay? Will I be fine?”

The nurse offered a smile. “You fainted from stress but we ran a blood test to be certain and it shows that you’re one month pregnant.”