Chapter 3

Maeva spotted David the second she walked through the door at the courthouse. He wore a tailored suit and looked immaculate from head to toe.

No matter how many times she saw his face, it still took her breath away. He had chiseled features, a high nose, and the cold, ruthless air of someone long used to power. The once green, handsome boy had grown into a steady, self-possessed star in finance.

He held his ID and lifted his gaze slightly to look straight ahead.

Maeva walked over. When he saw her, the deep furrow between his brows eased a little. He said nothing as he turned and headed for the divorce counter. She followed him.

Things were so quiet on their side of the room that it was almost eerie. The AC was turned down so low that the chill seeped into one's bones.

The clerk took their documents. "Reason for divorce?"

That one question caught both of them off guard. The real reasons for their divorce didn't seem appropriate to be voiced.

Maeva was the first to answer. "Irreconcilable differences."

As she spoke, her fingers curled in on themselves, the movement small but tense. David noticed this out of the corner of his eye. He also saw that her fingers were covered in small, dense rashes.

He lifted his gaze and saw the same kind of rash at the corner of her mouth. He hadn't really looked at her properly that day. Now, suddenly, he did.

Sensing his eyes on her, Maeva lowered her head.

She heard him ask, "Are you trying the sympathy card now?"

Her breathing hitched.

"You're allergic to mango, aren't you?" he continued. He remembered last night's cake. "Is this your tactic? Hurting yourself to make me feel guilty?"

For a second, Maeva had been moved by the first half of his words. He did remember. And then the second half dropped, snuffing out whatever hope had kindled in her.

She ignored David and looked at the clerk, speaking each word clearly. "Please proceed with our divorce application."

"It will take about a month for the divorce to be finalized if uncontested," the clerk said, handing their documents back. "Come back in a month to pick up the divorce decree."

"Got it. Thank you."

Maybe because she was so calm and polite, the clerk couldn't help meddling, "Your husband is so handsome. Are you really okay letting him go? Won't you regret it?"

Maeva smiled. "I think he's the one who'll regret it."

David would never again meet someone who loved him the way she did.

Meanwhile, to David, Maeva sounded like she'd lost her mind. This divorce had pushed her over the edge—she was spouting nonsense.

He snorted. "Not a chance."

Him, regret the divorce? He'd sign his own name backwards before that ever happened.

When they stepped out of the courthouse, the heat outside rushed in and burned away the chill from the AC.

"Where's the divorce agreement?" he asked. "Hand it over. I'll sign now."

Better to get it done before she changed her mind or something went wrong.

Maeva reached into her bag. As her fingertips brushed paper, she remembered something crucial. She'd been in such a hurry to leave the house that morning that she'd forgotten to tuck the surgical consent form in with the divorce agreement.

There was no way she could walk up to David with just the form and ask him to sign. If she did that, he would know she was pregnant.

Seeing her freeze mid-movement, David's tone rose, mocking. "Well?"

"I…" Maeva said, "I haven't finished drafting it. Give me a little more time."

He narrowed his eyes and asked sarcastically, "Is this your way of dragging out the divorce?"

"You're reading too deeply into this. Once I'm done, I'll bring it to you. I won't hold anything up." Maeva turned and walked off with her back straight.

She'd humbled herself in front of him for so many years. Now, she wanted to exit with dignity.

David let out a short, contemptuous snort and strode away in the opposite direction. His Maybach and his assistant, Joey Cooper, were already waiting by the curb.

Joey opened the back door. "Mr. Cavendish."

David slid in, and the car pulled away. Just as they were about to turn at the next intersection, there was a sudden grinding noise, and the car lurched to a hard stop. The jolt threw him forward before he could brace himself.

"Seems like it stalled," the driver said nervously. "Give me a minute, Mr. Cavendish. I'll get out and take a look."

David rubbed at his brow in irritation and turned to look out the window. That was when he saw Maeva standing at the bus stop, waiting for a bus.

Just then, a black Bentley pulled up, and a man stepped out from the driver's seat. He walked straight to her.

David recognized him—Harvey Peltz, Maeva's upperclassman from university. He'd been the student body president at Walden University, and she'd been the vice president.

No wonder she'd been so decisive about the divorce. She already had someone new lined up!

A sudden, inexplicable anger surged in David's chest. He didn't love Maeva, nor had he truly wanted to marry her, but she'd carried the title of his wife for years. And now, the moment they filed for divorce, she was out there meeting up with another man.

What did that make him look like? Was this what she called love?

He yanked at his tie, his irritation spiking.

Meanwhile, at the bus stop, Maeva was taken aback when she saw Harvey. "Harvey, hi."

He looked at her, his voice low, warm, and inexplicably soothing. "I heard you got divorced."

She stiffened. As far as she knew, only she and David were aware of the divorce for now. How had Harvey heard about it?

Reading the confusion on her face, Harvey said, "I guessed. Now that Alaina Fulton is back, there's no way David would stay married to you."

Maeva stayed quiet.

"Maeva, what I told you the night before your wedding five years ago still stands."

Back then, Harvey had told her that if she ever came to her senses and got divorced, he would be right there, where he'd always been. He would marry her.

She gave a small laugh. "Wouldn't that be jumping straight into another relationship?"

"If David can cheat while married, why can't you move on right away?" Harvey countered.

She shook her head. "But that would be unfair to you."

She was a divorcee. On top of that… she was pregnant. What was this, a marry-one-get-one-free deal? Why would Harvey have to sacrifice so much for her life? No man would willingly sign up to be a father to someone else's child.

Maeva continued, "I really don't want to start anything with anyone again. Loving someone is just too painful."

For love, she'd swallowed every humiliation and grievance.

"But Maeva, once he finds out you're pregnant with his child, he'll fight you for custody, even after you're divorced," Harvey said.

Maeva stared at him, suddenly appraising him seriously. How did he know everything?

"You've been going to and from the hospital a lot lately. I noticed," he explained. "Anyone who cares about you would."

To David, she didn't matter. Naturally, he wouldn't bother with where she went or what she did.

"He…" She hesitated, then said, "He won't want the baby."

He'd told her himself that he hated her and any child she might have.

"Even if he doesn't, the Cavendish family will."

That would make Maeva's dream of raising the child on her own come to nothing.

Harvey stepped forward. "Maeva, I can be the child's father, at least in name."

"Harvey, thank you, but I don't want to drag you into this," she said.

"But I want to be involved," he answered gently.

Maeva was just about to respond when a series of sharp honks cut through the air. A Maybach crawled forward at a snail's pace, and the rear window slowly came down, revealing the hard, chiseled profile of David's face.