All Chapters of Too late, I am no longer your wife: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

“I am sorry, Mrs. Wesley, the child's symptoms seems to be getting worse; I will recommend you transfer him to another practitioner," the doctor announced“You mean there is nothing that can be done?” I asked, holding my child close to me“For now we can manage the symptoms, but there is no known cure at the moment." She continued, “But your son's sickness has progressed, and I will recommend we move his case to another expert for closer monitoring of his condition."Her words broke me. ‘Okay, I will proceed with the transfer process. ' I replied.I sat beside the narrow hospital bed and gently adjusted the blanket over my son’s fragile body. His breathing was uneven tonight.“Mommy…” Sam whispered weakly.“I’m here, baby,” I said immediately, smoothing the damp hair from his forehead. “Mommy’s right here.”Her tiny fingers curled around mine. They were so thin now; it hadn’t always been like this.Three years ago, Sam was a jovial child filled with life. “Let us go home to meet Dadd

For the next couple of days I carried on with my life; some days the grief was loud and violent, and other days I was able to hide it behind a smile. I learned quickly how to move on with myself.When Charles returned home three days after Sam’s funeral, I greeted him at the door like nothing had changed. “Welcome back,” I said gently.He looked surprised for a moment, as if he had expected tears or accusations. Instead, I took his coat.“Dinner is ready.” I said I had brought the divorce papers the lawyers had drafted and waited for the right moment to present them to him. At the dining table, Charles spoke about business, a deal closing in Geneva, a board reschedule, meeting his business quarterly projection. While I listened calmly, nodding at the right moments.All through his conversations he never spoke about our son or how I was feeling, but instead, his phone kept lighting up again and again beside his plate. I already knew who it was; he silenced the phone once.Twice, and b

His eyes were fixed on me as if I were some kind of ghost he had just seen walking.Natasha shifted the child in her arms impatiently. “Charles,” she said softly, though there was tension beneath her voice. “We’re wasting time. We came here to see the specialist.”The child suddenly coughed. It wasn't a normal cough. He made a sharp, painful sound that made my stomach tighten instantly. Then his small body jerked violently.“Charles…?” Natasha said with fear in her voiceThe boy’s breathing was turning ragged, short, and desperate. I quickly stepped forward out of instinct.“Lay him down,” I said calmly.Charles’s eyes snapped toward me.. “What?”“The child,” I repeated. “Lay him down now.”Natasha pulled the boy closer to her chest. “Don’t touch him.”I ignored her and focused on the child, his lips beginning to turn slightly blue and his fingers curled tightly against his chest. The symptoms were unmistakable; it was the exact same symptoms. My heart clenched painfully; I had watche

A few days later, while I was attending to a patient, I received a notification from my assistant with the tag "urgent" and a document assigned to it. I finished with the client as soon as I could and opened the document. I saw it is a formal legal claim from Wesley Corp. asserting proprietary ownership over the research. I read it a second time slowly, looking for the part that would make it make sense. There was a line on the third page that made me stop; it says, "Research data generated under resources directly funded and subsequently redirected by Wesley Corp." I sat back in my chair. He had used the very thing he did to destroy Sam as the basis of his claim. The funding he pulled and the project he buried he was now using all of that as leverage to say the work belonged to him. This was Charles's silence when he was signing the document, he wanted to take everything I have worked for all these years from under me with a lawsuit. I cannot let him win after everything I have been

Over the next couple of weeks, the office didn’t feel like an office anymore, it felt like a war room.Files were covered on every available surface, in uneven stacks; the files contained legal documents, research data, and correspondence and also some printouts marked in red ink.We have spent several long nights in the office; cups of coffee sat everywhere, some were empty while some were half-finished and forgotten.There was a rhythm we had both fallen into subconsciously; I knew which files he had already reviewed by the color of the pen he used to mark them. He figured I worked better with the window slightly open even in the cold, and neither of us had said these things out loud. I stood by the window, flipping through a document I had already read twice, and behind me, Adrian was on a call.“Yes,” he said, his voice low. "We've reviewed that section, and the language seems to be intentionally ambiguous." There was a brief silence from him as he listened to the reply on the ot