Breaking Point of Divorce (Hugh and Bethan) novel Chapter 3

At 7 p.m., Bethan arrived at the restaurant.

Ever the gentleman, Hugh pulled out her chair.

Bethan sat down and watched quietly as Hugh ordered for them both.

He wore a sharp black suit with a matching shirt that, rather than looking somber, emphasized his refined and reserved presence.

The Cavill family had been grooming Hugh as their heir since childhood. He came from money, had an elite education, excelled at everything he touched, and carried himself with quiet confidence.

In the 25 years Bethan had known him, she’d never heard him curse or lose his temper.

Even with the waiter, he was unfailingly courteous, as if he had the world under control.

Hugh was in a league of his own.

And this incredible man had married a woman he didn’t love.

Divorce felt inevitable.

While they waited for their food, Hugh placed a jewelry box beside her plate. “Happy third anniversary,” he said simply.

Bethan wrapped both hands around her water glass and nodded, barely glancing at the gift.

She’d loved Hugh for 22 years and been married to him for three.

She knew better than anyone that beneath his polite exterior lay a heart she could never reach.

When she was younger and foolish, she used to beg him for presents.

When Hugh got annoyed enough, he’d buy her something small, and she’d treasure it for weeks.

After her family went bankrupt, her mother told her she wasn’t good enough for Hugh anymore—that she was nobody now, just a girl with nothing to offer.

Since then, she’d stopped asking for anything.

Though Hugh didn’t love her, he maintained appearances perfectly. Gifts on her birthday, Valentine’s Day, their anniversary—like clockwork.

Getting no reaction, Hugh opened the box himself and lifted out a diamond bracelet.

Bethan could tell it cost at least six figures.

Hugh reached for her left hand to clasp the bracelet on her wrist.

Bethan pulled back instinctively.

His grip tightened as he looked up at her. “You don’t like it?”

Years ago, she would have been thrilled with a five-dollar hair clip from him.

Now, when he reached to put a diamond bracelet on her wrist, she pulled away.

Bethan shook her head. “It’s beautiful.”

Hugh fastened the bracelet around her wrist. “It suits you.”

“Thank you.”

Hugh frowned.

Bethan had followed him around since they were children. From the moment she could talk, she’d chattered at him constantly.

She’d been grateful for any attention he gave her, no matter how small.

But after three years of marriage, she’d become so… distant.

He assumed she was upset that he’d missed their actual anniversary while dealing with Megan’s crisis.

Hugh put a slice of dessert on her plate. “Matcha tart—your favorite.”

Bethan stared at it, then looked up at him. “Would you learn to make this for me if I asked?”

Hugh cut into his steak. “Everyone has their strengths. The pastry chefs here train for years to do this. Just order whatever you want—money’s not a problem.”

Bethan looked down, hiding her disappointment.

The irony hit hard. He’d learned to make birthday cakes for Megan’s son and proudly posted photos online, but he didn’t bother learning a simple recipe his own wife had asked for.

That was how it worked with Hugh.

Besides, Bethan knew he was always busy with work and social obligations. She tried never to be a burden.

This could only be Megan.

She could see the concern in Hugh’s eyes—not irritation, but genuine worry.

After the fourth call, Hugh stood. “I’ll have James drive you home. Don’t wait up.”

Bethan rose as well.

Swallowing the familiar ache in her chest, she gathered her purse. “You’re busy. I’ll just call an Uber.”

Hugh didn’t offer explanations, and Bethan didn’t ask for any.

Still rattled, Bethan bumped into a passing server as she stood. Her phone and purse went flying, contents scattering across the floor—including the divorce papers she’d picked up from her lawyer that afternoon.

Hugh bent to help her, but Bethan snatched up the divorce agreement before he could see it.

She couldn’t do this now. Not until her mother came home from the hospital.

Hugh gathered up her makeup, but she could see him watching the paper in her hands, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

He held out his hand. “What’s that?”

Bethan tried to sound casual. “Just some medical forms.”

Hugh raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Before she could step back, Hugh reached for the paper.

They both held on, neither willing to let go, caught in an awkward tug-of-war.

Just as the document was about to slip from Bethan’s grip, Hugh’s phone rang again.

He glanced at the screen, then released his hold on the paper.