Divorce Papers in My Baby’s Gift Box? Fine—I Signed Them! Chapter 03

Divorce Papers in My Baby’s Gift Box? Fine—I Signed Them! Chapter 03

I stood in the doorway and watched Ryan’s taillights disappear into the night.

It wasn’t exactly unexpected, was it?

It wasn’t until Emma’s warm little body pressed against me that I finally felt as if I had surfaced from icy water.

I lowered my head and kissed her forehead.

“Baby, let’s go home.”

I turned back into the house and started packing.

I packed clothes, passports, Emma’s birth certificate, and her formula into the suitcase one by one, clearing away every trace my daughter and I had left in this house.

The moment I finished booking the flights, I suddenly let out a breath.

…

By the time Ryan came back, the sky was already light.

He pushed the door open and froze when he saw the open suitcase in the middle of the living room.

I ignored him and kept folding Emma’s tiny clothes.

He grabbed my wrist, angry and impatient.

“Maddie got into a car accident last night because of you. She’s still lying in the hospital, and she refuses to see me.”

“She won’t even see me. Nora, what more do you want?”

I looked up at him.

“She won’t see you, so you’re blaming me? Are you only satisfied if you push me until I lose every last bit of patience I have left for you?”

“Are you really asking me to cut off more than ten years of being buddies with her because of you?”

“If she matters that much, why did you come after me in the first place?”

Ryan froze.

“And didn’t I already agree to the divorce? Didn’t I already agree to let the two of you have each other?”

I pulled my hand out of his grasp.

“What else do you want from me?”

“Divorce, divorce, divorce! Is that the only word you know?”

He swung his arm hard, and the suitcase went crashing to the floor.

Emma woke up with a start and immediately began crying.

I rushed toward her on instinct, but my foot caught on the clothes scattered across the floor. I fell hard, and my lower back slammed into the corner of the coffee table.

Pain exploded through me.

Back when Maddie caused my premature labor, I injured my lower back. Even now, bending down to pick something up could send a dull ache through me.

Ryan came over holding our daughter, his voice tense.

“Nora, are you okay? Did you hit your back? I’ll take you to the hospital.”

He bent down to help me, but his phone rang at that exact moment.

“Ryan, hurry! Maddie woke up, and the second she opened her eyes and didn’t see you, she started making a scene about going to a bar to drink!”

Ryan’s hand froze in midair. In an instant, he forgot all about my back injury.

“She’s willing to see me?”

He shot to his feet, shoved Emma back into my arms, and sounded almost thrilled.

“Tell her not to run around. I’m on my way.”

Then he rushed out of the house without looking back.

The door slammed shut, shattering the last ridiculous bit of hope I had left.

I called an Uber myself and struggled to carry Emma to the hospital.

I checked in, got the scans done, waited in line, and calmed the baby down.

Doing it alone wasn’t impossible.

When I passed the neighboring hospital room, I saw a crowd gathered around Maddie’s bed.

And the man who had said only a few hours ago that he would take me to the hospital was kneeling on the floor, barking like a dog.

“Woof, woof.”

Maddie laughed so hard she nearly doubled over.

It was disgusting.

I looked away and lowered my eyes to the messages Ryan had sent a few minutes earlier.

Ryan: [Babe, I ordered some pain relief patches for you. They should arrive soon.]

Ryan: [Something came up at the office tonight, so I won’t be coming home.]

The fact that I had put up with this for so long was disgusting and laughable too.