I Said Divorce When He Sent Me Red Roses Chapter 02

I Said Divorce When He Sent Me Red Roses Chapter 02

Callum never came home that night.

He didn’t send a single text message, nor did he place one phone call to check in.

I didn’t seek him out, and I didn’t bother asking where he’d gone.

The next morning, I arrived at the company long before official hours.

Callum held the title of CEO for Rourke Biotech.

I served as the lead chief research scientist.

Over five years, our startup had expanded from a tiny garage workspace in the suburbs into a lavish office suite in the most expensive high-rise downtown.

Our marriage, however, had steadily crumbled until it stood on its last legs.

The first phase of the new drug’s development was fully complete, leaving no urgent experiments demanding my constant oversight for the time being.

I settled into my office with a mug of coffee and pulled open the divorce papers my lawyer had emailed over.

I’d only just reached the section detailing asset division when Callum pushed my office door open and stepped inside.

“Maris twisted her ankle when she climbed out of my car last night, so I stayed behind to look after her for a while,” he rushed to explain.

“It grew far too late after that, so I booked a room at a nearby hotel and crashed there for the night.”

I nodded my head and kept scanning the legal documents, offering a casual reply without lifting my gaze. “Mhm, I heard you.”

We’d be signing divorce papers soon enough.

Who he chose to spend his nights with, or where he decided to sleep, none of it concerned me any longer.

There was no need for him to report every minor detail of his schedule to me.

…

Callum froze in place for a beat.

He clearly hadn’t expected me to react with such complete indifference.

He studied my face, mouth opening as if he planned to say something, only to clamp his jaw shut and hold his words back.

“Let’s grab dinner together tonight,” he suggested.

“You’re the biggest hero behind this drug breakthrough. We owe you a proper celebration.”

He paused for a moment, glancing my way once more.

“Should we invite Maris to join us? I think you two ought to sit down and talk things through. She was only just a child when your mother passed away all those years ago.”

The second he jumped to Maris’s defense, my fingers faltered mid-page turn.

A bitter question bubbled up inside my throat, desperate to spill out.

Was I not just a child too, the day my mother took her own life?

But I swallowed the words back down before they could escape my lips.

There was no point in arguing with him any longer.

I pushed the icy cold rage churning in my chest aside, took a slow sip of coffee, and spoke in a soft, detached voice. “My personal business isn’t any of your concern. Let’s keep dinner just the two of us tonight.”

We needed to discuss the divorce settlement, after all.

An outsider’s presence would only complicate the conversation.

As for having a sister?

My mother had only ever given birth to one daughter, and that daughter was me.

I had no sister to reconcile with.

Callum shot me a quick glance across the desk.

He’d obviously misread my quiet mood as jealousy, and a faint smug tug pulled at the corner of his mouth.

He’d just parted his lips to speak when his phone blared its ringtone through the office.

Maris’s name lit up the screen.

Callum glanced down at the device, and his eyes instantly softened at the sight of her name.

He grabbed his phone and hurried out of my office without another word.

As the workday drew to a close, a text from Callum landed in my inbox.

It contained reservation details for an exclusive private dining restaurant.

I recognized this as his half-hearted attempt to make amends for the previous night’s neglect.

I slid the printed copy of my divorce papers into my handbag and prepared to head out for our dinner meeting.

When I stepped outside the office building, Callum’s sedan rolled past where I stood on the sidewalk.

He rolled down the car window, sitting behind the steering wheel with his dress shirt sleeves pushed up to his forearms, his expression calm as if no conflicts had ever unfolded between us.

“Head home first and get changed for dinner,” he instructed me.

“I’ve got a quick client meeting to attend, and I’ll be there shortly after.”

Before I could respond, he hit the gas and drove away down the street.

In the past, whenever I’d planned a date night with Callum, I’d spend two full hours preparing myself beforehand.

Picking out a nice dress, applying makeup, curling my hair.

I’d never been skilled at all those feminine routines, yet I’d endured every tedious step with a mix of anxiety and quiet hope.

Back then, I’d truly longed to look beautiful in his eyes.

Tonight, there was no need for any of that effort.

I skipped going home entirely.

Instead, I located a nearby massage parlor and booked a full shoulder and neck relief session for myself.

Six months of all-nighters spent running lab trials had pushed my body to its absolute breaking point.

I deserved to treat myself properly for once.

When I finally arrived at the private restaurant, Callum hadn’t shown up yet.

I sent him a follow-up text to notify him I’d arrived.

He never replied.

I shook my head and abandoned the old habit of sitting around waiting for him endlessly. I simply waved down a server and ordered my meal right away.

The restaurant boasted a lovely atmosphere, and the food tasted incredible—lightyears better than the cold pre-packaged sandwiches I’d survived on nonstop for half a year inside the lab.

So even if Callum never walked through the door at all, I felt no flicker of anger.

If he could throw away seven whole years of our relationship without remorse, I had no reason to care about one missed dinner date.

He had no idea, though.

Having him sign those divorce papers would be the greatest apology and compensation he could ever offer me.