Ten Years of Waiting For Her

I contacted the man I'd avoided for a decade, my hand resting on my now flat stomach, a cold smile on my lips.

It began at a welcome home party my husband threw for his childhood sweetheart, Valerie. During a drinking game, she lost and asked me to take her punishment, claiming it was her time of the month. I refused, explaining I was pregnant.

Valerie just scoffed, saying I should admit I didnt want to help instead of suddenly "getting pregnant" as an excuse. The room burst into laughter, and my husbands face darkened.

The next second, someone kicked me into the deep end of the pool. A man bet my husband on how long I could hold my breath. My husband laughed, wagering his Aston Martin keys that I could last five minutes. Others threw cash into the bet.

A heavy hand held me under. A sharp cramp tore through me, and I felt a warm flow into the water. On the deck, they kept counting.

Valerie lost the bet. To cheer her up, my husband downed three glasses of wine. As I sank, my vision fading, I heard him clearly: "Stop faking it. Keep going."

When I woke in a hospital bed, my husband stood over me, frowning. His first words were: "Were you really pregnant? Why didnt you say something sooner?"

1 "I did tell you, Ross. I told you I was pregnant."

Ross let out a cold, dismissive laugh.

"In that kind of setting? How was anyone supposed to know you weren't just making it up to get out of a drink? If you have been pregnant all this time, why did you hide it from me?"

Because he did not know, he felt completely justified in watching his friends kick me into a pool.

He felt justified in laughing and betting his sports car on my life.

He felt justified in guzzling wine to cheer up Valerie while I was drowning.

I closed my eyes, my fingers curling into tight fists around the hospital bedsheets.

He dropped onto the sofa furthest from my bed, speaking in a slow, casual drawl.

"Honestly, you do not even need to say it. I know exactly what you were doing, Nora. You were waiting to go straight to my grandfather to claim your little reward, weren't you?"

Looking at his face, I saw that familiar, absolute certainty.

That arrogant, condescending look that told me he thought he had me completely figured out.

I had seen that exact look countless times over our three years of marriage.

No matter how hard I tried to be the perfect wife, he always looked down on me from his pedestal.

I genuinely believed that marrying him meant I finally had a family of my own.

Nobody knew how ecstatic I was when I saw those two pink lines.

I had been so incredibly excited to welcome this tiny life, a little soul that shared my blood.

I had carefully tried to guess his reaction, wondering if the father of my child would feel the exact same overwhelming joy that I did.

Just last night, when Ross called to invite me to that party, a secret thrill had bloomed in my chest.

I foolishly thought I had finally broken through the walls around his heart.

I thought I could finally share my wonderful news with him in front of everyone.

The sudden click of the door handle shattered the heavy silence in the room.

Valerie strutted in on her designer stilettos, holding a massive bouquet of exotic lilies.

I instantly furrowed my brows.

"Get out."

She let out a dramatic huff.

"Do you really think playing the victim makes you the queen of the Sinclair family? You cannot pin last night on me. You knew you were pregnant, yet you still came out to party with us. You did this on purpose, didn't you? You just wanted to put on a pathetic show to make Ross feel guilty."

She crossed her arms, looking down her nose at me with pure disdain.

"Do not forget, you were the one who forced your way into this marriage. If it were not for you, Ross would have ended up with his first love ages ago. You ruined his life, and you still have the nerve to act high and mighty?"

"My marriage is between me and Ross. Outsiders do not get a vote."

My voice was incredibly soft, but I made sure every single syllable was crystal clear.

At the mention of his first love, a flash of hostility crossed Ross's eyes.

"She is not an outsider."

I fell silent for a few long seconds before I finally spoke.

"Ross, if it were not for her last night, our baby would still be alive. How exactly do you expect me to treat her?"

Ross turned his face away, his voice dropping to absolute zero.

"It is your own fault for not protecting yourself. You have no right to blame anyone else."

My breath caught in my throat. My mind went completely blank for a split second.

I knew exactly what he was doing. He said it on purpose.

Because just like Valerie said, he hated me.

I slowly exhaled a shaky breath.

"Ross, let's get a divorce."

He let out a mocking sneer.

"You know damn well my grandfather will never allow us to divorce. Do you honestly not feel ridiculous trying to use that empty threat on me, Nora?"

He leaned forward. The lingering scent of expensive alcohol from last night mixed with an overwhelming, suffocating pressure.

"If we divorce, where exactly are you going to go? Your parents died ten years ago. Besides me, who else are you going to cling to as a parasite? Or..."

He paused deliberately, a vicious glint flashing in his eyes.

"Are you planning to run to your... stepbrother?"

He spat the last word out like it was poison, his eyes locking onto mine like a predator.

A sudden chill shot straight up my spine.

But then, my tightly clenched fists slowly relaxed.

There was absolutely nothing left to care about.

A soft, broken laugh escaped my lips.

"For three years, I sat in that massive, freezing house, waiting for you to just look at me. I was stupid enough to believe that if I held a stone against my chest long enough, it would eventually warm up."

"But now I know the truth, Ross. Your heart is harder than stone."

I was smiling, but the tears were spilling down my cheeks faster than I could stop them.

"The baby is gone, Ross."

I forced the words out using every last ounce of strength I had left in my body.

"And I am completely done waiting like an idiot for you to love me."

"I will go talk to your grandfather myself. He will agree to it."

The moment the words left my mouth, I clearly saw his pupils violently contract.

That smug, untouchable mask he had worn since walking into the room finally cracked.

He instinctively took a half step backward.

After a brief moment of stunned silence, his jaw clenched tight, his voice dangerously low.

"Nora, without the Sinclair family backing you, you are absolutely nothing. Are you really sure you want to do this?"

"I am sure. Don't worry, you are about to get your freedom back."

2 The next morning, Elder Sinclair arrived at the hospital leaning heavily on his silver handled cane.

He took one long look at me, let out a heavy sigh, and lowered himself into the chair beside my bed.

"I have already contacted the Vanderbilt family. I told them to keep their daughter, Valerie, on a very short leash. You will not have to see her face ever again."

"And I have thoroughly disciplined that reckless grandson of mine. He truly does care for you, Nora. Just give him some time."

I opened my mouth, fully intending to tell him that his grandson's heart belonged to someone else entirely.

But the old man did not give me the chance to speak.

"You have suffered a terrible injustice with the child."

His tone softened, yet it carried an undeniable, commanding edge.

"But life has to keep moving forward, Nora. You are still young. Once your body heals, you will have other children."

I took a deep, steadying breath.

"Arthur, I want a divorce."

The hospital room went dead silent.

Elder Sinclair did not explode in anger.

He just looked at me, his eyes clouded with a deep disappointment.

And that kind of quiet disappointment was infinitely harder to swallow than screaming rage.

"Nora, do you have any idea what you are actually asking for?"

He phrased it as a question, but he clearly had no intention of waiting for my answer.

"Divorce is an easy word to throw around. But what happens after the papers are signed? How do you plan to survive out there on your own?"

His tone was heavy and earnest, sounding exactly like a patriarch looking out for my best interests.

"Let me ask you a few simple questions, my dear."

"How old are you?"

"Have you ever worked a corporate job in your life?"

"Have you ever earned a single dollar with your own two hands?"

I sat there in total silence.

"No. You haven't."

His voice was terrifyingly calm.

"I am not saying you are incapable, Nora. But before you turned eighteen, you relied entirely on your stepbrother. When your parents passed, they left you a massive inheritance. And by twenty five, you were married to Ross. You have absolutely no concept of what it means to grind, to struggle, to earn a living in the real world."

"Maybe in the past, you could have fallen back on Gideon. But from what my investigators tell me, the two of you had a total falling out. He left the country ten years ago and has not been back since."

"So tell me. If you divorce Ross today, exactly what are you going to live on?"

"This VIP hospital suite costs five thousand dollars a night. You need premium postnatal care after a miscarriage. The Sinclair family can provide you with the absolute best medical team in the state to ensure a perfect recovery. Do not gamble with your health, Nora."

I clutched the edge of the blanket, refusing to speak.

Seeing that I was not backing down, Elder Sinclair did not lose his temper. Instead, he smoothly changed his tactics.

"How about this. Focus on your recovery first. When you are discharged, you come back to the Sinclair estate. I will force Ross to move out into one of his penthouses for a few months. The two of you need some physical distance to cool off."

"Once you are fully recovered, I will personally arrange a position for you in one of our corporate offices. Whatever career you want to pursue, I will fund it."

"Learn how to be an independent woman first. Then, we can revisit this divorce talk."

"If you still want to leave him after you have tasted the real world, I promise I will not stand in your way."

He gestured for his head butler to bring Ross into the room.

Ross stood in the doorway, his face still etched with deep annoyance.

"Grandfather."

"Get over here and apologize to your wife."

Ross shot me a sideways glance.

"Sorry."

The old man frowned deeply.

"Did you forget how to speak? Louder."

Ross took a deep breath and raised his voice a fraction.

"I am sorry, Nora."

His volume went up, but the half hearted, dismissive attitude remained exactly the same.

Elder Sinclair did not care. Forcing Ross to apologize was just part of his grand performance.

It was exactly like his manipulative speech about letting me gain independence.

"Arthur, I do not need his apology."

The old man turned his sharp gaze back to me.

"My answer has not changed. I want a divorce. It is not because I am throwing a tantrum, and it is not because I am trying to prove a point. It is because this marriage has been entirely meaningless from the very first day."

"It took me three brutal years to finally admit that out loud."

My voice was trembling, but I forced every single word out with absolute clarity.

"You told me I have no work experience, that I cannot feed myself. Fine. I will learn."

"I am only twenty eight. It is not too late to start over."

Elder Sinclair sat in total silence for a very long time.

Finally, he stood up. As he leaned his weight onto his silver cane, his body swayed slightly.

His butler instantly rushed forward to steady him.

He looked down at me, the rims of his eyes turning a faint shade of red.

"I have always looked at you as my own flesh and blood, Nora."

"If your mind is truly made up, I will not force you to stay."

"But mark my words. The doors to the Sinclair estate will always remain open to you. Whenever you decide you want to come home, your place will be waiting."

He turned and walked toward the door.

Right at the threshold, he stopped without looking back.

"Ross. Come with me."

Ross followed him out into the hallway.

The hospital room fell dead silent once again.

I stared blankly up at the white ceiling, fresh tears slipping from the corners of my eyes.

He claimed he treated me like his own flesh and blood.

But you do not treat your own blood like a business transaction.

You do not sit by your granddaughter's bed the day after she loses her baby and casually tell her she is young enough to just make another one.

I knew he was just putting on a masterful act.

But his calculating performance made one thing abundantly clear.

Getting this divorce was going to be a brutal war.

3 The door swung open again. Ross walked back in, looking thoroughly exhausted and irritated.

"Grandfather ordered me to stay here and watch over you."

I stared right through him, my face expressionless.

"Ross, your grandfather officially agreed to the divorce."

He froze, a sudden flash of genuine panic breaking through his arrogant facade.

"I am walking away with nothing from the Sinclair estate. I only want the inheritance my parents left me. The eight million dollar trust fund. When we got married, I handed it over as my dowry. Later, you told me you converted those funds into Sinclair Corporation shares."

My voice was terrifyingly calm.

"Right now, I just want my eight million dollars back in cash."

Ross quickly looked away, dodging my eyes.

"Focus on getting better. We can deal with the financial details later."

He turned on his heel, ready to bolt.

"Ross."

He stopped dead in his tracks but refused to turn around.

"Did you already drain my trust fund?"

The muscles across his broad shoulders instantly locked up.

"Valerie's family business ran into massive financial trouble last year. She came begging you for help. Did you use my parents' money to bail out her family?"

Ross whipped around, his face turning an ugly shade of ash.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

He closed the distance between us, looming over my bed with a dark, threatening glare.

"My business with Valerie has absolutely nothing to do with"

I let out a sharp laugh.

"Ross, if you dared to give my dead parents' money to Valerie, I swear to God I will"

The door suddenly clicked open, and Valerie strolled right in.

"You will do what, exactly?"

She looked at Ross, then shifted her mocking gaze to me, letting out a sharp, condescending giggle.

"Ross, why are you even wasting your breath on her? So what if her dead parents' money was used to save my family? Does she have a single shred of proof?"

She crossed her arms, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow.

"Nora, I suggest you get a grip on reality. The moment you married into this family, your money became Sinclair money. Or did you think all those designer clothes and luxury cars you have been using for the past three years magically fell from the sky? Did you think the Sinclairs were running a charity?"

"Even if Ross was generous enough to write you a check right now, what difference would it make? You do not even know how to write a basic resume. How long do you think eight million dollars will last a spoiled housewife?"

She laughed out loud, her voice dripping with pure, unfiltered malice.

"What are you going to do when the money runs out? Sit on a street corner with a cardboard sign?"

I gripped the bedsheets so hard my knuckles turned white, but I kept my mouth shut.

Valerie took a slow step closer, her tone venomous.

"Actually, it is going to be incredibly entertaining to watch. An orphan who just got dumped by the great Ross Sinclair. Can you imagine what high society is going to whisper about you behind your back?"

She leaned in close, dropping her voice like she was sharing a juicy secret.

"Congratulations, Nora. You are about to become completely worthless."

I raised my trembling hand, fully intending to slap the smug look right off her face, but Ross caught my wrist in a vice grip.

Right as we were locked in a tense standoff, a deep, resonant male voice echoed from the doorway.

"She still has me."

Valerie straightened up instantly, whipping her head toward the door.

Ross followed her gaze.

A tall man stepped into the room. With a fluid, calculated motion, he effortlessly broke Ross's grip on my wrist and smoothly stepped between us, acting as an impenetrable shield.

"Who the hell are you?"

Ross massaged his aching wrist, his face twisting into a scowl.

"Gideon."

"So you are that pathetic little..."

Gideon shot her a single, freezing look, and she instantly snapped her mouth shut.

Completely ignoring the two of them, Gideon pulled up a chair and sat down beside my bed.

"The chicken soup is still hot. I got it from that old diner you loved when we were kids. Eat it before it gets cold."

Looking at his familiar face, the tears I had been fighting back broke free, streaming down my face.

Ross stood a few feet away, his expression darkening into pure rage.

"Did you call him back to the city, Nora?"

I did not even bother looking at him.

"Get out, Ross. My legal team will be in touch regarding my inheritance."

Valerie let out a nasty sneer.

"A legal team? You honestly think you can afford a decent lawyer?"

Gideon slowly turned his head to look directly at Valerie.

The smug smile froze on her face. She instinctively took a terrified half step backward.

Ross quickly grabbed her wrist, pulling her safely behind his back.

He glared at Gideon, then shifted his dark, calculating eyes to me.

"People always used to whisper that you two had a dirty little secret going on behind closed doors. I never bought into the rumors, but seeing you two now, I guess they were right all along."

"You really played the long game, didn't you, Nora?"

Gideon calmly scooped a spoonful of hot soup, blew on it gently, and brought it to my lips.

"You play a pretty good game yourself, Ross. Raiding your wife's dowry to bail out your little side piece's bankrupt family. I wonder if the elder Mr. Sinclair knows about this? Do you think he would break your legs himself?"

Ross glared daggers at Gideon.

"Valerie is absolutely right. The second she signed that marriage certificate, she and her bank accounts became Sinclair property. Who the hell do you think you are to question me?"

Gideon's hand paused in mid air. He lowered his gaze thoughtfully.

I opened my mouth, ready to defend him, but his smooth, unwavering voice beat me to it.

"It does not matter who I am. But since Nora is divorcing you today, I have more than enough ways to make you choke on every single dime you stole from her."

4 Ross let out a harsh, barking laugh.

"Now it all makes perfect sense. You do not speak to her for a decade, and the exact second she mentions divorce, you magically appear to play the white knight? Were you just waiting in the wings to take my sloppy seconds?"

Valerie immediately jumped on the opportunity to pour gasoline on the fire.

"Can't you see what is happening, Ross? Her loving wife act was totally fake. She has probably been sleeping with her precious stepbrother this whole time! She used you as a shield to secure her status as Mrs. Sinclair, while she was messing around with another man behind your back."

"And now that she lost the baby, she is playing the ultimate victim. She wants to throw all the dirt on you so she can walk away clean and run off into the sunset with her golden boy!"

"Shut your mouth!"

I was shaking violently, pure adrenaline and fury surging through my veins.

"Was she wrong?"

Ross's voice dropped to a terrifying, deadly pitch.

The fact that he was actually standing there, playing the role of the betrayed husband trying to catch a cheating wife, was the most sickeningly hilarious thing I had ever witnessed.

"Ross, wasn't it you who stood there and watched them kick me into the deep end of the pool?"

My voice was barely more than a whisper, but Ross's breathing hitched instantly.

"When I told you I was pregnant, wasn't it you who stared at me with a dead look in your eyes and called me a liar?"

"Wasn't it you who laughed and bet your car keys on how long I could hold my breath?"

"When Valerie lost the bet, and you drank three glasses of wine to cheer her up, did you hear the sound of me fighting for my life in the water?"

"Ross."

My tears slipped down my cheeks without any warning.

"The person who murdered your child... was you."