The Glory ( Freen❣️Becky)

22 ( It's my life)

When Becky finally dared to turn her phone on and check messages, she cringed as she listened to her mother's voice. No less than four messages from her, each one more threatening than the one before. The fifth message was from her father. Short and to the point. They were on their way over.

So when Becky pulled into her driveway she was not surprised to find her father's black Mercedes already there, waiting for her . She pulled around it, taking the drive to the back and pushing the remote for the garage. They would already be inside. Thankfully, Nop's car was gone. She wasn't sure she was up to facing all three of them at once.

She took a deep breath, then paused before opening the door. Freen 's words echoed in her mind and she almost-almost-managed a smile. "Tell them all to go fuck themselves."

She followed the sounds of voices coming from Nop's office. Mostly her mother's voice. She was in rare form today. Becky stood in the doorway, staring at her mother's back as she continued her tirade. Apparently a divorce would derail everything they'd worked for.

Her father sat at Nop's desk, his hands cradling a tumbler, most likely filled with scotch, and nodding at the appropriate times. For the first time she realized how much experience he must have at this. As if sensing her presence, her mother spun around, her piercing gaze rendering Becky incapable of moving.

"Where have you been?" she demanded.

"I told you, I had a lunch date," she said, her voice sounding weak to her own ears.

"And I told you, we wanted to talk to you."

At this, Becky moved into the room. "I assume Nop called you," she said.

"He most certainly did. Whatever it is you've got in your mind about divorce," her mother said, waving her hands dramatically, "is simply out of the question. I will not-"

"It's not your decision. It's mine."

"There is no decision here, Becky. I forbid you to ruin your name-our name-or Nop's name. There will be no divorce."

"Mother, I'm not happy. I've never been happy in my marriage. Not ever. And I won't continue to pretend otherwise."

"It's a little late for that now. Your marriage is what you make it, but it is still your marriage. The election is two years away. There will be no further mention of this."

Becky turned slowly to her father, who had yet to say a word. She summoned up the last of her courage as she met his gaze. "May I speak to you? Alone."

Her mother laughed behind her. "I assure you, there is nothing you-"

"Chaerin," her father said sternly. "Leave us. Now."

Growing up, Becky had had little interaction with her father. Her mother ran the house and managed the staff...and managed Becky as well. She assumed her mother was in charge of all things Armstrong. However, the look on her mother's face at those few simple words belied all that.

Her father demanded, and her mother immediately took a subordinate role, bowing slightly before slipping from the room, the door closing quietly behind her. Becky was shocked by the transformation. "Sit," her father said. He held up his glass.

"Would like you one?"

"No thanks," she said as she sat down opposite him.

He leaned back in Nop's chair with a heavy sigh. "Now, what's this about divorce?"

"I'm not happy. I haven't been happy."

"Have you thought about counseling?"

"There is no amount of counseling that could save this marriage," she said honestly.