Chapter 120 Is There Really No Turning Back?
I said my piece and was ready to balt
Idris caught my wrist, and I glared into his icy eyes. “Yvette, I won’t agree to a divorce.”
1 bit my l*p, a cold laugh escaping me. “Alright, then let’s take it to court. Keep an eye out for the
summons
His grip tightened, his dark eyes boring into mine, voice heavy with something unspoken. “Yvette, does it have to come to this?”
I let out a derisive snort, my gaze dripping with scorn. “Mr. Young, what’s this about? You’re the one who called me a liar, a violent thug, and rotten to the core. Shouldn’t you be jumping for joy to get rid of me? Why the change of heart?”
His frown deepened, his eyes a stormy sea of confusion. “So, there’s nothing I can do to fix this?”
I dodged the hurt in his eyes, inhaled a sharp, cold breath, and kept my voice steady. “Idris, just sign the papers. Do us both a favor.”
I wrenched my hand free, did not look back at him, and walked out. I got in the car and fired
engine
up the
My heart was not big enough to keep loving in silence after being crushed. Divorce was the only way
This was goodbye. I hoped our paths would never cross again.
Back at the Scotts, Mom and Maxwell were bustling around the dining room. Mom must have heard the car because she came out to greet me with a smile.
“Little Sanchez was spot on,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “He said you’d be back, and here you are.
Stepping out of the car, Mom and I made our way into the foyer. Maxwell was in the kitchen, apron- clad and bustling about, and from the sounds of it, he was not alone.
I glanced at Mom, curious. “Are we expecting company?”
Out zipped Zoe, a streak of green, her coat the color of fresh spring leaves. Her hair was twisted up into a playful bun that bounced as she moved, adding to her sprite–like charm.
“Hey, Zoe,” I greeted her with a warm smile. “What brings you here? Dreaming up some new fashion design?
She flashed a toothy grin, her eyes sparkling like stars. “Yep, and I thought I’d drop by to check on
YOU
Her eyes kept darting back to the kitchen, and I arched an eyebrow. Was she crushing on Maxwell?
Shaking off the thought, I let out a chuckle and let the conversation drop
My phone buzzed from my bag–it was Officer Jackson. I excused myself and headed to the backyard for better reception.
“Ms. Scott, how’s everything going?” His voice was unexpectedly personal.
I paused, a little thrown off. “I’m good, thanks. What’s up, Officer Jackson?”
There was a brief silence before he spoke again. “About that trip to Macamer–are you all set?”
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