Better Late Than Never Loved
Seven years ago, in order to accompany the fake heiress abroad for her recovery, Timothy Gibson casually signed the divorce papers I handed him.
Without even turning around, he sneered at me.
"Naomi, don't use such underhanded tactics to keep me around. Esther can't live without me abroad."
Seven years later, he blocked my path with his car, and he spoke to me with an air of superiority.
"Grandpa is critically ill. His only dying wish is to hold his great-grandchild.
"Come back with me, behave yourself, and give birth to an heir. You will still be Mrs. Gibson."
I looked down at my shoes. I recalled the time I stood in the rain and begged him not to leave. I even collapsed in the rain.
In the end, all it got me was a dismissive 'you're making a scene' from him.
Timothy still thought my life revolved around him.
He had no idea that without the title of Mrs. Gibson, I had lived very well these past seven years.
The very day after he signed the divorce papers, I married someone else.
Gently touching my stomach, which wasn't even showing yet, I smiled and said, "Mr. Gibson, I'm afraid I'm going to disappoint you. I am having a baby, but it isn't yours."
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