Chapter 5: A Fractured Bond

Adeline's POV

I waited until the house was quiet that night. Blake had returned late as usual, his tie loosened, his shirt crumpled from the day's work—or whatever else occupied his time. He barely spared me a glance before retreating to his study, his usual refuge when he wanted to avoid me.

I stood outside his study door, my heart pounding. For the past three years, I'd swallowed every bitter word, endured every cold glare, and accepted the indifference he offered in place of love. But this time, I couldn't stay silent. This time, I had to fight for myself and the baby growing inside me.

I took a deep breath and pushed the door open without knocking. Blake looked up from his desk, his eyebrows furrowing in annoyance. "What do you want, Adeline?"

I stepped inside, trying to steady my shaking hands. "We need to talk."

His jaw clenched. "If this is about Rebecca needing more blood-"

"It's not about Rebecca," I said sharply, surprising even myself. "This is about us."

He leaned back in his chair, his piercing gaze locking onto mine. "Us? I didn't realize there was an 'us' anymore."

I ignored the sting of his words. "I want a divorce, Blake."

The room went silent and cold. For a moment, he didn't respond, as if he hadn't heard me. Then he gave a low, caustic laugh and shook his head. "A divorce? You think you can just walk away from this marriage?"

"I can’t do this anymore," I said, my voice breaking. "You don’t love me. You never have. And I refuse to keep living like this—being used, ignored, treated like I’m nothing."

Blake stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. He walked around the desk, closing the space between us until he was towering over me. "You think, you're nothing without me now? Try being divorced. What exactly do you think you'll have, Adeline? No job. No money. Nothing."

"I'll manage," I said, though my voice shook.

He scoffed. "Manage? You've been living off my money for three years. Everything you have, everything you are, is because of me. You wouldn't last a week without my support."

"That's not true," I said, lifting my chin. "I survived long before you came into my life, and I'll survive after you."

Blake's eyes narrowed, and his voice fell to a dangerous whisper. "Is this about Dr. Wood? Is that why you're so desperate to leave me? Have you finally decided to stop pretending and run off with him?"

I felt a wave of anger surge through me. "This has nothing to do with Dr. Wood! This is about you and how you've treated me like I'm disposable like my only worth is in what I can do for Rebecca."

Blake fisted his hands at his sides as his eyes darkened further. "You made this choice, Adeline. You wanted this marriage. Don't forget that. You're the one who forced me into this arrangement."

Tears pricked at my eyes, but I wouldn't let them fall. "Yes, I wanted this marriage. Because I thought you cared, Blake. I thought you'd come to love me. But you don't, and you never will."

Blake's voice was ice. "You're not getting a divorce. End of discussion."

"You can't keep me trapped forever," I said, my voice shaking with fear and defiance.

He leaned in close, his hot breath fanning across my face. "Watch me."

I stumbled back to our bedroom, my legs like jelly. My head was spinning from the confrontation, my chest aching from the weight of his words. Blake was right in one sense: I had forced this marriage, but I never expected it to turn into a prison.

I sat on the edge of the bed, cradling my stomach, and whispered, "I'm not giving up. Not for you, not for him."

Blake might have thought he held all the power, but he didn't know the truth. He didn't know about the baby. And as much as it pained me, I realized that I couldn't tell him. Not yet. He would twist it and use it against me, and I couldn't let that happen.

The next morning, I woke to find Blake already gone. Typical. It was better this way; I didn't have the energy to face him again. Instead, I focused on the secret that I was now carrying.

I was waiting for the doctor, so as I sat in the waiting room, my mind began to drift off. Was this baby growing up in a broken home? Has he or she ever known a father? Or was Blake's hatred going to swallow our child whole, much like it did his feelings toward me?

Dr. Wood called me into his office, his usual calm demeanor offering a small measure of comfort. "Adeline," he said as I sat down, "I need to impress upon you how imperative it is that you take care of yourself. The pregnancy is already putting a strain on your body, and if you continue living under this stress—"

"I'm doing the best I can," I said, cutting him off. "I'm trying to stay strong for the baby."

Dr. Wood nodded but didn't look convinced. "And what about Blake? Does he know?"

I shook my head. "Not yet. And I don't want him to know, at least not now. He wouldn't understand, and he'd only make things harder."

"Adeline, he's the father. He has a right to know."

"I know," I said softly. "But first, I need to figure out how to protect my child. I won't let him turn this into another way to control me."

Dr. Wood sighed but didn't push further.

I sat alone in the kitchen that night, a notebook spread out before me. I had begun to make plans, trying to figure out how I could build a life for myself and the baby without Blake. It wouldn't be easy, but I had to believe it was possible.

I heard the front door slam, and my heart sank. Blake was home. I quickly shut the notebook and tucked it away, pasting on a neutral expression as he entered the room.

He barely glanced at me as he poured himself a drink, but his presence was enough to set me on edge. I could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken anger simmering beneath the surface.

"Adeline," he said finally, his voice cold. "We’re going to Rebecca’s tomorrow. She wants to see you."

I bristled at the mention of her name but forced myself to nod. "Fine."

Blake looked at me for a moment, as if searching for something, but then he turned and left the room without another word.

As I sat there in silence, I placed a protective hand over my stomach. "It’s just you and me," I whispered. "We’ll find a way out of this. I promise."

The next day, I sat on the couch, fidgeting with my glance at the clock. My lawyer, Mr. Hayes, was supposed to arrive any minute, and I had rehearsed all morning how I would tell Blake. This time, I wouldn't let him intimidate me. I would stand my ground and fight for my freedom.

My heart jumped at the ringing of the doorbell. I quickly moved to open it and greeted Mr. Hayes, a gentle-faced man in his late fifties. His composed presence gave me some reassurance.

"Mrs. Rhodes," he said with a slight bow, entering inside. "Shall we?"

"Yes," I replied, gesturing toward the living room. "We need to get through this quickly before Blake comes back."

He gave me a concerned look but didn't comment, setting his briefcase on the coffee table and pulling out the divorce papers.

"I've drafted everything based on our discussion," Mr. Hayes said. "It's straightforward, but Blake will need to sign these to finalize the process. If he refuses—"

"He won't have a choice," I interrupted, more to convince myself than him.

Before Mr. Hayes could answer, the sound of the front door slamming shut made both of us freeze. My chest tightened as Blake's voice rang out, sharp and angry. "Adeline! Where are you?"

I turned to Mr. Hayes, panic flashing in my eyes. "You need to go. Now."

But it was too late. Blake strode into the living room, his face darkening the instant he spotted Mr. Hayes and the stack of papers on the table. His eyes snapped to me, and I saw the storm brewing in them.

"What the hell is this?" he demanded, low, but dangerous.

Mr. Hayes stood, struggling to hold his composure. "Mr. Rhodes, I'm here on behalf of your wife to—"

Blake cut him off with an icy stare. "You think you can come into my house and talk about my wife like I'm not standing here? Get out."

"Blake, please—" I started, stepping between him and Mr. Hayes.

"Adeline shut up," he snapped, his voice venomous. Then, without taking his eyes off me, he pointed toward the door. "Leave. Now."

Mr. Hayes hesitated, looking at me for confirmation. I nodded reluctantly, knowing there was no point in escalating the situation further.

"I'll follow up later," he murmured before gathering his papers and leaving.

The door shut down behind him, and it was Blake and just us two alone, the air heavy and ready to suffocate, while his gaze could freeze fire when he turned to me with a question.

"A lawyer?" he said, deceptively calm. "You dared to bring a lawyer into my house?"

"I don't see how it's your house," I shot back, anger bubbling to the surface. "It's ours. Or did you forget that when we got married?"

Blake's jaw clenched, and he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming.