He Took the Pain With Him When He Left Chapter 02

He Took the Pain With Him When He Left Chapter 02

I stared at the pregnancy test for a long time. I couldn’t find my voice.

Serena seemed pleased with my reaction. She linked her arm through Derek’s and pressed her belly against him.

“Don’t be mad, Vivian. I’m not trying to take your place as Mrs. Hawthorne. But don’t be too controlling either. My child will still need to see his father.”

Derek didn’t push her away. He bent down and said softly, “The doctor said you should rest. Go sit on the couch.”

He helped her to the couch and had the cups of chili water on the table removed. Only after making sure nothing could hurt her did he turn back to me.

He spoke calmly, like he was discussing a business deal.

“One time, when I accompanied you to a prenatal checkup, Serena got playful and insisted we make a bet. We bet on whether you’d catch us kissing in the hospital hallway. Things got carried away, and I couldn’t stop myself.”

“But I never planned to divorce you. And I won’t let her threaten your position as Mrs. Hawthorne.”

He even stepped over and straightened my coat for me. Gentle, like he used to be.

But his words hit like ice.

“Vivian, we both grew up in this world. You know how it works. Every wealthy family has a few women on the side. Keeping an obedient little canary on the side to brighten your days—isn’t that perfectly normal? You were raised to be a society wife. You should know what’s worth fighting over and what’s better left ignored.”

I looked at him and remembered a different time.

Derek used to hate everything about the “old money” rules.

His father had kept women all over town. His mother held onto the title of Mrs. Hawthorne for life and never even saw her husband before he died.

The day his mother died, eighteen-year-old Derek knelt in the mourning hall all night with red-rimmed eyes.

The next morning, he held my hand and said, “Vivian, I’ll never become my father.”

When he was twenty-two, the Hawthorne family picked a bride for him. He flipped the tea table in front of both families and walked me out of Hawthorne Estate.

Behind us, elders shouted. Outside, luxury cars waited.

He didn’t look back.

That night, they cut off his credit and took back everything in his name. He had maybe a few hundred dollars left, and he still smiled.

“What’s there to be afraid of? Without Hawthorne, I’ll still give you the best life.”

And he did.

When he proposed, he rented out a private island. Hundreds of drones lit up the sky with my name. The pink diamond on my engagement ring had cost him over a hundred million at a Geneva auction.

The night before our wedding, in the Hawthorne family hall, he signed a fidelity agreement in front of all the elders.

If he ever cheated or had a child with another woman, everything—his Hawthorne Group shares, funds, overseas assets—would go to me.

Everyone told him not to sign.

He handed me the pen, grinning. “Sign it. I’ll never give you a reason to use it.”

I believed him.

When Hawthorne Group had a liquidity crisis, I convinced Vance Group to cover the gap. When the board turned on him, I gave him all of Vance Group’s voting rights.

The day he secured his position as heir, he held me and said, “Everything I have, I owe to you. You’ll be my only wife.”

Now he still had Hawthorne.

And he’d become everything he used to hate.