The Belated Bride: Becoming My Own Muse Chapter 27

The Belated Bride: Becoming My Own Muse Chapter 27

He raised an eyebrow.

“The interest on that is steep.”

“How much?”

“Have dinner with me.”

I blinked, then laughed.

“Mr. Ashford is that cheap?”

“Depends on the person.”

He looked at me.

“For anyone else, no. For you, yes.”

In the snowy night, his eyes were very bright.

Not the belated possessiveness I’d seen in Christian.

It was the patience of someone who had seen you a long time ago and never pushed you to turn around.

I didn’t answer right away.

I just said, “Let me get divorced first.”

The corner of Grant’s mouth curved up.

“Alright. I’ll wait in line.”

That Monday, I arrived at the Manhattan Supreme Court right on time.

Christian was already waiting for me at the entrance.

He was dressed very formally, like he was attending some kind of important business meeting.

No flowers in his hands. No gift.

Just the divorce agreement, amended back to my original version.

He saw me and walked over.

“Claire.”

I nodded.

“Let’s go in.”

The process moved faster than I had imagined.

When the judge confirmed that the divorce was by mutual consent, Christian was silent for a long stretch.

I turned my head to look at him.

He finally spoke. “Consensual.”

The moment the gavel fell, I didn’t feel the pain I had imagined.

There was just a very light, very quiet exhale of relief.

Like a set of wet clothes you’ve worn for too long, finally pulled off.

Outside the courtroom, Christian didn’t walk away immediately.

He stood at the bottom of the steps, looking at the divorce decree in my hand.

“Claire.”

I paused.

“Yeah.”

He asked, “If that day… if I hadn’t given the dress to Bee… would things have been different between us?”

I looked at him.

He had asked this question three years too late.

I thought about it and said, “They would have been.”

A small light sparked in his eyes.

I finished the sentence. “I would have left you a little later.”

That small spark extinguished completely.

Christian lowered his head, his smile bitter.

“So there was no chance for me, even back then.”

“Not early on.”

I said, “I gave you chances. Many times.”

He looked up at me.

I counted them off for him, one by one.