Chapter 6: Divorce on Her Terms

Luke had kept her waiting twice in one day.

Dexie sat in her car outside the Civil Affairs Office, staring at the entrance. She had already told Warry to get her an exact time if Luke could not come today.

She had ended the call without knowing Luke had taken the phone just before she hung up.

Now there was nothing to do but wait again.

Dexie checked the time, then put her phone aside.

He had sent a lawyer to ask for a divorce. He had offered a generous settlement to make her agree. Yet now that she had signed, he seemed unable to finish what he had started.

She did not understand him.

But she would not mistake his delay for love.

She had made enough excuses for him in her previous life. Whatever his reason was, she no longer wanted to spend hours trying to guess it.

Sooner or later, they would complete the divorce.

For now, she had something more important to do.

Dexie started the car and headed home.

Her phone rang along the way. She answered through the car’s speaker.

“Dexie, I found the information you asked me to investigate. Do you want it now?”

“Yes. Send everything to my email. I’ll be home soon.”

“It’s ready. I’ll send it right away.”

“Thank you.”

The call ended.

Dexie tightened her hands around the steering wheel, then forced herself to loosen them. She needed to keep her attention on the road.

There would be time to read everything when she got home.

At her downtown apartment, she left her bag beside the sofa and opened her email.

The report was waiting.

She read it carefully, going back over the important details instead of letting her anger push her ahead.

The investigation concerned Roxane, the woman Dexie had always believed was her stepsister.

Her father, Rodel Domino, had married into the Hansley family. Dexie had taken her mother’s surname, and for years, she had accepted the story she had been told about her parents.

Wendy Hansley had died when Dexie was only two years old, after suffering from a mysterious mental illness.

Afterward, Rodel had appeared to raise Dexie alone.

For two years, no one had known of another woman in his life. Eventually, Dexie’s grandfather encouraged him to marry again, and he married Sarry Todd.

Sarry already had a daughter, Roxane. Later, Roxane took Rodel’s surname.

It had all seemed ordinary enough. A widowed father had remarried, and two young girls had become sisters.

Rodel behaved like a devoted husband and father. Sarry treated Dexie as though she were her own child.

Dexie had trusted them.

She had been too young to remember much about her mother, and Sarry had filled that empty place with gentle words and affectionate gestures.

Until her previous life, Dexie had never thought to question any of it.

Then she found the photograph.

It had been tucked away in Rodel’s study. He and Sarry were together in it, both much younger than they should have been if they had met only after Wendy’s death.

Dexie remembered holding the picture and studying their faces.

Had they known each other before Rodel married her mother?

And if their relationship had started that early, was Roxane truly his stepdaughter?

The questions had stayed with her, but the accident came before she could find answers.

This time, she had acted before it was too late.

Dexie looked at the report again.

The information supported her suspicion that the family’s story was incomplete. There was more to Rodel and Sarry’s past than either of them had admitted.

“As expected,” she murmured.

Her eyes rested on Roxane’s name.

The report gave her reason to keep digging. It did not mean she could treat every fear as a proven fact. Knowing that Rodel and Sarry had hidden part of their history was one thing. Establishing the whole truth about Roxane was another.

Dexie would not give them the chance to dismiss her with one careless accusation.

She read the important details once more, then closed the file.

They could enjoy their comfortable lives a little longer.

She wanted to know what they had done, what they had hidden, and how long they had expected her to believe them.

Only then would she decide how to confront them.

At Lutheran Hospital, Dexie went straight to the ward where her uncle was being cared for.

“Mrs. Hansley, you’re here.”

She nodded to the medical staff.

“How is my uncle today?”

“Mr. Hansley’s condition hasn’t changed. You can go in and talk to him.”

“Thank you.”

Dexie entered the intensive care unit.

Stephen Hansley lay motionless on the bed. The steady sounds of the equipment filled the space around him.

She stopped beside the bed and looked at his face.

Two years earlier, shortly after retiring from the military, he had fallen into a coma. He had never awakened, and the doctors had been unable to give the family a clear cause.

Her grandfather had told her that Wendy had suffered something similar before her death.

Because both siblings had developed unusual problems affecting the brain, the doctors suspected a recessive genetic disorder in the Hansley family. They believed it damaged the cerebral cortex, gradually interfering with its normal function.

But it was still a suspected explanation, not a certainty.

Dexie had refused to accept that there was nothing left to try.

For the past two years, she had been developing a drug intended to repair damaged nerve cells in that part of the brain.

It was not a cure she could promise.

There was still work to do, and hope alone could not make the treatment succeed. But if it worked, Stephen might have a chance to wake up. It could also help other patients suffering from similar conditions.

Dexie pulled a chair close to the bed.

“Uncle, I’m here.”

She rested her hand beside his on the sheet.

Usually, she told him about ordinary things. Her work, her day, whatever small news she could find. She wanted him to hear a familiar voice, even though she did not know whether he could hear her.

Today, she struggled to decide where to begin.

“I have something strange to tell you,” she said softly.

Stephen did not move.

Dexie looked toward the door, then back at him.

“I came back.”

The words sounded impossible in the quiet room.

She had lived through the accident. She had heard her husband dismiss her death. Then she had opened her eyes in a life she thought was already gone.

How could she explain that to anyone?

“You wouldn’t believe me if you could answer,” she whispered. “I’m still trying to understand it myself.”

She paused.

“But I’m not going to make the same mistakes.”

Her hand moved closer to his.

“I spent too much time waiting for someone who didn’t care about me. I’m done with that now.”

She did not tell him every detail. Sitting beside his bed was enough to remind her that she still had people and work worth fighting for.

“I haven’t given up on you,” she said. “I’m still working on the treatment.”

The equipment continued its steady rhythm.

Dexie stayed for a while, talking quietly as she always did. When she finally stood, she looked at him once more before leaving.

She did not need to return to the laboratory yet.

First, she had unfinished business with the Domino family.

“Mrs. Dawson?”

Dexie stopped on her way to the parking lot.

Sam Milvi approached with a friendly smile.

She recognized him immediately. He came from one of the capital’s four wealthy families and was one of Luke’s friends and business associates.

“Mr. Milvi.”

“You don’t have to be so formal. Just call me Sam.”

Dexie nodded.

Sam glanced toward the hospital entrance. “Were you visiting your uncle?”

“Yes.”

“I see.”

She was about to continue toward her car when she remembered how he had greeted her.

“And please don’t call me Mrs. Dawson anymore.”

Sam blinked.

“Luke and I are getting divorced,” she explained. “You can call me Dexie or Ms. Hansley. I don’t like being called Mrs. Dawson anymore, and I’m sure Luke wouldn’t like it either.”

“What?”

His surprise was plain enough to make her raise an eyebrow.

“Luke really wants to divorce you?”

“Yes. We’re getting divorced.”

She had already repeated it several times that day. She hoped that once the papers were complete, she would no longer have to explain it to every person who knew them.

“So remember that the next time you see me.”

Dexie gave him a small smile and walked to her car.

She did not stay to discuss her marriage.

Sam watched her leave.

So Harold had been telling the truth.

Narda was coming back, and Luke was divorcing Dexie.

Sam could not understand it.

From what he had seen, Dexie had always treated Luke well. She was beautiful and intelligent, and she had spent their marriage trying to care for him.

Now Luke was letting her go while an ex-girlfriend who had once left him returned.

Sam shook his head.

If he had a wife who cared about him that much, he would treasure her.

Luke had to be out of his mind.

Sam took out his phone and snapped several pictures of Dexie as she walked toward her car.

Then he lowered it, still wondering what his friend was thinking.

It was dinner time when Dexie arrived at the Domino family villa.

“Ms. Dexie is back!”

The announcement drew everyone’s attention toward the entrance.

Sarry rose at once.

“Dexie! Why didn’t you tell Mom you were coming home?”

She hurried over and reached for Dexie’s hand.

The gesture was familiar. So was the warmth in her voice.

In her previous life, Dexie would have relaxed the moment she heard it. She would have allowed Sarry to lead her into the room and believed the welcome was sincere.

Now she remembered the report on her computer.

She quietly pulled her hand away.

“This is my home.”

Sarry’s smile stiffened.

Dexie looked at her calmly.

“Why would I need to tell you before coming back?”

For a moment, Sarry said nothing.

A brief flash of irritation crossed her face. It vanished so quickly that Dexie might once have missed it.

She did not miss it now.

“Of course you don’t need permission,” Sarry said, smiling again. “I was only worried. You rarely come home without telling us.”

Dexie watched her.

The explanation was reasonable. The smile looked familiar. Nothing about this moment alone could prove what Sarry had hidden.

But Dexie no longer had to accept every gentle word without question.

“Then you don’t need to worry,” she said.

She smiled back and walked past her.

The house looked exactly as she remembered it. The familiar furniture, the table prepared for dinner, the people waiting to greet her.

For years, she had looked at all of it and seen a family she could trust.

Now she knew there were things they had not told her.

Dexie let her gaze move across the room without asking a single question.

She had come home.

This time, she intended to find out what her family was hiding.