The discussion simmered for several days. I became the target of public ridicule.
After receiving the divorce certificate at the courthouse, I stepped outside when Nathan called after me. “Don’t take what’s being said online too seriously,” he said. “It’ll blow over soon, and people will forget.”
I stopped in my tracks, a soft, cynical laugh slipping out.
How could the difference in public opinion be so stark?
“Lois, it’ll be the New Year in two months. How about we remarry next year?”
He looked at me and stepped closer, but I took a step back, my expression unchanged. My gaze drifted to the reporters, held at a distance by bodyguards nearby.
Nathan seemed to realize that it wasn’t the right time. He stopped in his tracks.
“Lois, I’m planning to go back to Holnia. It’s been a long time since you’ve been there. You should visit. I’ll come to pick you up after the New Year—”
“I’m not going back,” I interrupted calmly.
His smile froze on his face, and confusion crept into his eyes.
I continued, “When I agreed to sign the divorce papers, you promised me one thing. It’s time for you to keep that promise.”
Nathan stared at me, stunned.
When I was reborn, I took only a few seconds to process my feelings of love and hate for Nathan.
When I saw the divorce papers, I considered tearing them up in anger, maybe confronting him one more time, but in the end, reason prevailed.
