The Belated Bride: Becoming My Own Muse Chapter 13

The Belated Bride: Becoming My Own Muse Chapter 13

“Claire.”

I stepped aside, avoiding him.

“Can I help you?”

He stared at the coffee in my hand.

“Two cups?”

“Grant’s.”

Christian’s expression turned ugly.

“Did he spend the night at your studio?”

I laughed.

“Mr. Van Ness, when you’re asking me that question, have you stopped to think about the countless times in the past three years you stayed out with Bianca until the early morning hours?”

The words hit him like a wall. He couldn’t respond.

After a moment, he said, “Bee and I… it’s not what you think.”

“What do I think?”

“She helped me once. In the past.”

I nodded.

“So you gave her my things to repay your debt to her?”

Christian was silent for a few seconds.

“I admit it. This time, I didn’t consider your feelings.”

That admission came far too late.

So late that I couldn’t even be bothered to feel anything about it.

I moved to walk past him with my coffee. He blocked my path.

“I’m not signing the divorce papers.”

I looked up.

He stared at me, looking like a man who had just made a monumental decision.

“The wedding goes on. I’ll buy you a new dress—whatever kind you want. As for Bee, I’ll have her issue a public apology.”

I listened to all of it. There was not a single ripple of emotion left in my chest.

“Christian, do you genuinely think the problem here is that the dress wasn’t new enough?”

“Then what do you want? Just tell me.”

I looked at him.

He was finally panicked.

For the first time, I had backed the high and mighty Mr. Van Ness into a corner with no answers.

I said, “I want a divorce.”

His breath caught.

“Anything but that.”

“There’s no ‘anything but that.'”

I walked around him. He grabbed my arm.

“Claire. A three-year marriage. You’re just going to throw it away?”

I turned my head.

“That sentence… should be me asking you.”

His hand slowly loosened its grip.

I walked forward a few steps and then stopped abruptly.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

Christian looked at me.

I said, “The Van Ness family dinner tonight. I’ll be there.”

A flicker of light sparked in his eyes.

“You’re willing to come home?”

“No.”

I looked at him.

“I’m coming to pick up the rest of my things. And to tell your mother about the divorce. In person.”