Chapter 218 The Finality of Divorce
Ava, with a heavy heart, moved with deliberate steps towards Alexander's sleek sports car. She opened the passenger door and sank into the plush leather seat.
Alexander cast a cold, emotionless glance in her direction, his icy stare cutting through the tense silence.
"Fasten your seatbelt," he commanded, his voice as frosty as his gaze.
On any other day, he might have reached over to secure her seatbelt himself, but today, it was merely a terse reminder. Their relationship was spiraling, descending step by step into a chasm of despair.
Ava, in a state of numb disbelief, complied and buckled her seatbelt. She slumped in her seat, her gaze lingering on the lone figure standing in the night, visible through the rearview mirror.
With a sigh of agony, she closed her eyes and turned her head away.
William stood motionless, his gaze fixed on the retreating sports car until it disappeared from sight. He didn't move, didn't walk away.
Behind him, the sound of footsteps echoed in the quiet night as Victoria emerged, her eyes heavy with sleep and her hair in disarray. She ran her fingers through her tousled locks, her eyes filled with confusion as she looked at her brother.
"Why are you out here? What's going on?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.
She had been deep in sleep when she was roused by a commotion. By the time she made it downstairs, she found the iron gate wide open and William standing under the solitary lamp that illuminated the entrance.
Bathed in the dim yellow light, William's figure cast a long shadow. He let out a deep sigh before turning to walk back inside. Victoria, filled with worry, quickly followed him, her questions spilling out in a rush.
"What happened? William, please, tell me what's going on."
Once the iron gate had clanged shut behind them, William finally spoke, his voice heavy with unspoken emotions. "Ava's gone home. Her husband came to pick her up."
"Her husband? He found his way here?" Victoria's eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of understanding dawning in her eyes. Could it have been a scene from a scandalous affair?
But wasn't Ava on the brink of divorcing her husband? What was happening?
Victoria wished she had been awake to witness the events unfold. She was intrigued by Ava's husband—could he possibly compare to her brother?
William was not just handsome and wealthy, but also kind, sophisticated, and a perfect gentleman. How many men could measure up to him?
Without another word, William retreated into the house, his demeanor one of defeat.
...
The ride home was shrouded in silence, Ava and Alexander lost in their own thoughts.
Upon reaching their destination, Alexander exited the car and walked around to the passenger side to open the door for Ava.
Exhausted and still in her pyjamas, Ava clumsily stepped out of the car, her legs shaky and weak.
Without a word, Alexander scooped her into his arms and carried her into the house.
Too drained to protest, Ava managed to whisper, "We're getting divorced at nine tomorrow, no matter what happens. The divorce is our priority."
Her exhaustion was more than physical, it was a deep-seated weariness that had seeped into her very soul. How long would it take to recover from such a state?
"I know," Alexander replied coldly, carrying her upstairs. "The sooner we divorce, the sooner you can play house with William."
He was convinced of her infidelity; her overnight stay at William's house had left no room for doubt.
Ava didn't bother to explain. The divorce was imminent, explanations were futile. Let him believe what he wanted.
Her silence seemed like an admission of guilt, and Alexander's expression darkened further.
Whether she spoke or remained silent, it seemed to incense him.
They had reached the top of the stairs when Alexander suddenly halted, his gaze fixed on the flight of stairs beneath them.
