Flowering Tree
The day we divorced, I gave up custody of our son.
For once, Logan looked up at me.
“Coral.
“You nearly died on the operating table giving birth to him.
“And now you want to abandon him as well?”
I slid the signed divorce papers across the table.
“That’s right.”
Logan stared at me long and hard before letting out a scoff.
“So you’re weaponizing the boy to force me to come back to you?”
I didn’t offer an explanation.
Instead, I placed my access card on the table–the one that had once granted me access to every conference room in the Reed Group.
Five years ago, I stayed by his side throughout when the business faced its darkest chapter, edging on bankruptcy.
Logan had declared there and then that I was the only lady of the household.
Yet now, he believed that social standing was all I cared about.
Not at all convinced, Logan refused to sign the petition on my terms. He simply uttered icily, “I have no time for your games.”
Days later, my body was laid before him.
Reality sank in.
There was no turning back for us anymore.