Chapter 9
Grady ignored the interruption and directed his question at me. “Matilda, are you rushing into this divorce because you’ve already found someone else?”
His words twisted the blame for our lost child entirely onto me.
Dad shot up from his chair, his voice booming with anger. “What nonsense are you talking about? Do you even know why my daughter had that allergic reaction and lost the baby?”
“It was because of that woman you’re involved with. She sent roses, which triggered a severe allergy attack.”
“She needed medication for that severe allergy, and that medication couldn’t protect the baby. Do you want a child or our Matilda’s
life?”
Grady looked stunned. “Matilda’s allergic to flowers? I never knew.”
Dean scoffed. “Matilda’s been allergic to flowers since she was a kid. Even I know that, and you’ve been with her for years. How
could you not?”
He’d never given me flowers in the past; the one time he did, it was a bouquet his secretary didn’t want. Perhaps he knew once, but he’d clearly forgotten.
“How can you speak to my daughter like that?” Dad’s voice was heavy with disappointment. “You promised to take care of her when you married her.”
Dean took over from where my dad left off, his voice steady. “If you have any decency left, you’ll just finalize the divorce with Matilda.”
He grabbed Grady by the collar. Grady, worn and listless from his illness, was dragged away like a deflated balloon.
After being shown the door, Grady stood there, lost. He turned, words faltering as he tried to speak.
Inside, I felt nothing but calm indifference. No matter what he said, I would never be the person who once believed him.
The loss of the baby taught me that the man I once loved was gone.
We all need to move on, don’t we?
I rose slowly and walked to the door. Dean, thinking I might leave with Grady, moved to stop me.
I raised a hand, signaling him to let me be.
Just a few more words, for the sake of closure.
Grady’s eyes lit up when he saw me step outside.
“Just go. The divorce papers have already been sent. Once you sign them, we’re done.”
He seemed lost for words, unable to grasp what was no longer there.
“Matilda, after everything we’ve been through, can you really let it all go?”
Memories of our shared experiences flashed through my mind, stopping at the moment I called him from the hospital.
“What’s this act? She wanted me to send a gift, and I did. Now what’s her problem?”
“It’s just hay fever. Do I really have to show up for this?”
He never took my allergies seriously because, to him, I was never a priority.
Love was years past; letting go took merely a moment.
My heart is dead, and I’ll have no more expectations from Grady.
Gone are the days when I was a hopeful girl in my twenties, dreaming that after standing by him, a brighter future awaited us.
His life was already divided into pieces, shared with different women.
