My Husband Accused My Family of Stealing His Mother’s Gift Chapter 10

My Husband Accused My Family of Stealing His Mother’s Gift Chapter 10

I arrived at the coffee shop at exactly three the next afternoon.

Adrian was already sitting in a corner.

He wore a navy suit, and his hair was combed neatly into place, but dark circles shadowed his eyes.

He looked exhausted and anxious.

The moment he saw me, he stood.

He reached for the chair across from him as though he intended to pull it out for me, then seemed

to think better of it and withdrew his hand.

“Sienna, sit here.”

His manner was completely different from before.

Adrian had always spoken down to me, his chin slightly raised and his eyes carrying the effortless superiority of a man who believed he was above everyone else.

Now he kept his head lowered and his voice quiet, as though he were afraid one wrong move might

send me walking out.

I sat across from him without ordering coffee and got straight to the point.

“What is it?”

He hesitated.

He did not mention getting back together, nor did he bring up any of our old grievances.

“You already know what happened at the company. Maya turned a fifty-thousand-unit order into five units. The supplier is demanding payment for the emergency replacement order and its other losses, and the bank is pressing us over our outstanding loans.”

He rubbed his hands together and looked up at me.

“Sienna, will you come back and help me?”

I looked at him calmly.

“No.”

He stared at me, clearly unprepared for such an immediate refusal.

“Sienna, we founded that company together. Are you really going to stand by and watch it collapse?”

I said nothing.

When he realized I was unmoved, he began listing memories from our past.

“Do you remember the office we rented when we first started? It didn’t even have a window. Every summer, it turned into an oven, but even after you got heat exhaustion, you refused to go home.

“And what about the time a client changed his mind at the last minute? You waited outside his hotel with me all night, and he did not show up until sunrise.”

I cut him off.

“I remember all of it. You should also remember how I ended up leaving that company.”

Adrian fell silent.

I looked into his eyes and found the situation almost absurd.

When I had been by his side, he had never valued me. He treated everything I did as something he was automatically entitled to.

When I stayed home and managed our life, he acted as though I were lazy and living off him.

When I warned him that Maya was unreliable, he accused me of being petty.

Now that I had finally divorced him, exactly as he had wanted, he was suddenly treating me with

respect.

When Adrian saw that I still had no intention of helping him, he finally spoke plainly.

“Sienna, I want to divorce Maya.”

He leaned forward and lowered his voice as though he were sharing a secret.

“She can’t do anything except cry. She has turned the company into a complete disaster, and even my mother says she’s been nothing but bad luck. Give me one more chance, and I-

I stood and picked up my bag.

“Adrian, I don’t believe a single word you say.”

Then I turned and walked away.

He called after me, but I did not look back.

After that, Adrian began appearing outside my parents’ house frequently.

Sometimes he brought an expensive box of imported fruit. Other times, he arrived carrying two

bottles of fine single-malt Scotch.

He changed his strategy.

Instead of asking me to return to the company, he began trying to win over my parents.

The first time he came, he held out the two bottles of Scotch to Dad with an ingratiating smile.

“Dad, a friend gave me these. I thought you might enjoy them.”

Dad stared at him coldly and did not even allow him through the door.

“Do not call me Dad, Mr. Mercer. You and my daughter are divorced. Take those bottles and don’t

come back.”

The smile froze on Adrian’s face.

He stood there holding the bottles for a long time before finally leaving.

The second time, he brought an expensive wellness gift set.

Mom looked at him through the narrow opening in the door and refused to let him inside.

Then came the third visit, followed by a fourth.

Every time, my parents turned him away, and every time, he left dejected.

The following Thanksgiving, the doorbell rang again.

When I opened the door, Adrian was standing outside.

He held two luxury Dungeness crab gift boxes, both packaged even more elaborately than the one he had sent Linda the year before. One look was enough to tell me they had cost at least fifteen hundred dollars altogether.

He held them out to Dad with both hands, his head lowered and his posture unusually deferential.

“Mr. Bennett, happy Thanksgiving. I brought you a little something. I was wrong about what happened last year, and I hope you can forgive me.”

Dad stood in the doorway and looked first at the crab boxes, then at Adrian.

He did not accept them.

This time, he did not panic or begin apologizing either.

He looked at Adrian coldly. His voice was quiet, but every word was clear.

“Adrian, leave. Don’t come near my daughter again.”

Adrian opened his mouth as if to respond, but Dad did not give him the chance. He turned and

walked back inside.

I remained at the door for another moment and looked at Adrian.

He stood there clutching the two crab boxes, looking awkward and somewhat pathetic. His lips moved, but in the end, no words came out.

I slammed the door in his face once again.