Chapter 3 - The Dotted Line
Grant sighed, clearly annoyed by my lack of a dramatic breakdown. He reached into his suit jacket, pulled out a heavy silver fountain pen, and practically threw it onto my tray table. It rolled and clicked against a plastic water cup.
“Sign,” Grant demanded, his tone turning sharp and impatient. “I’ll let you keep the apartment for three months so you can figure things out. Be grateful I'm being this generous.”
I slowly reached for the papers. My eyes scanned the front page. Petition for Dissolution of Marriage.
“Three months?” I asked, keeping my voice dangerously level, devoid of any trembling. I looked at the man who had slept in my bed, the man who had sworn to protect me.
Vivian sneered, leaning closer to the bed. “A woman with a daughter should learn humility, Eleanor. You’re lucky my son is giving you any time at all. The penthouse belongs to Grant. The company belongs to Grant. You should start packing.”
I didn't argue. I didn't correct her. I looked down at Lily’s tiny fingers, curled tightly against my gown. I kissed her warm forehead, inhaling the sweet, powdery scent of my newborn child.
Then, I picked up the pen. I flipped through the thick stack of demands—his claim to the cars, the accounts, the executive titles. I skipped all of it. I found the final page, the one that solely acknowledged receipt of the documents, and signed my name with a steady, unbreakable hand.
I handed the stack back to him. Grant, too arrogant and eager to flee the room, didn't bother to check which pages I had signed. He simply snatched them up, looking immensely satisfied.
May you like
He laughed—a short, breathless sound of relief—kissed Celeste on the cheek, and turned on his heel. He walked out of the room without looking back, his mother trailing proudly behind him.
The very second the heavy door clicked shut, the silence returned. I set the pen down, reached over with a steady finger, and pressed the nurse's call button. I needed my phone.
