From Ex-wife To Heiress

2

Laura

He paused, then smirked. "It’s too late, Laura. If you are pregnant, I’ll take the child from you and have Victoria raise the child with me. Anyways, it won’t change anything."

The hope shattered as quickly as it had come. My breath hitched as I realized there was no saving this. Not for me. Not for our unborn child. I couldn't tell him about my pregnancy. I'd never be able to fight for my child's custody because he'd wealth and power which I didn't have.

A sob escaped my throat as I stared back at the divorce papers. I stared at the alimony. A house, a car and a hundred thousand dollars.

“I marked out the alimony. I don’t need your money, Lorenzo… I married you not because of your money,” I sighed, tears streaming down my cheeks. “I married you because I love you.”

I scrawled my name across the line, my tears falling onto the paper, smudging the ink. With each stroke of the pen, I felt like I was signing away a piece of my soul, my love, my life.

When I was done, I let the pen slip from my fingers, watching it roll away as if it symbolized the last bit of hope I had left.

Lorenzo stepped forward, taking the papers from my hand without so much as a glance in my direction. "This is for the best, Laura," he said.

I couldn’t bear to look at him. The pain was too raw, too overwhelming.

"You can stay here a little longer, Laura. When you feel better, take your things and leave," he said, as soon as possible. "I did this because I care for you."

My head snapped up, eyes wide with disbelief. "Care?" I breathed, barely able to process what he was saying. When you care for someone, you betray the person?

Tears continued to stream from my eyes. He stretched a handkerchief to me. "You need this."

Why was he acting like he cared? It only broke my heart the more. I couldn't stand it.

My life, my love, my world had crumbled, and there was nothing left, all thanks to him.

I stood, my grip tightened on my phone. My head was aching and I felt dizzy but I didn't want him to know or feel pity for me. I began to leave the room but ended up tripping and falling into his hands.

"Be careful, Laura," he said, gently holding me.

"Don't touch me," I cried out, getting away from him.

The finality of it all had sunk in. I was no longer his wife. I was no longer anything to him.

I rushed to the wardrobe and packed my things into a bag. It felt like if I didn't leave the mansion any soon, I'd suffocate.

I began to walk to the exit door of the mansion with my luggage.

Lorenzo was there. He blinked off something like tears from his eyes. Perhaps, tears of joy.

He didn't glance at me. "I'm sorry."

Sorry for infidelity? Or for surprising me on our anniversary with a divorce?

I nodded. "Of course," I swallowed hard, trying to hold back my tears but I couldn't. "And to you, sorry can change everything, right? Thanks." I dragged my luggage and hurriedly left the Mansion. There was nothing left for me there.

Funny enough, I had no money or properties. I used to run a little cupcake shop but Lorenzo made me close it because of what the Media would say. He made everything available for me and said to me, "you don't have to worry about anything, Laura. You don't have to work. Everything you want will be placed at your feet."

"No, Lorenzo. Please let me work. I don't want to be a burden to you. I don't want to depend on you."

"You have been through a lot, Laura. As long as I live, you won't have to work or struggle."

Tears rolled down my cheeks. Here I was. Back to square one.

I couldn't go to Paula. What could I possibly tell her? The man who I loved so much and gave up everything for divorced me?

I didn't want to ruin Lorenzo's reputation. If I told Paula about this, she'd drag Lorenzo to the filth and that was something I didn't want.

I had no one to go to. I was alone. Perhaps, this was karma for what my mum had done. My dad had been married to Victoria's mum but he left her mother for mine. 

The last thing I remembered before losing consciousness was getting hit by a car. I felt a terrible ache in my abdomen before falling unconscious.

***

I could smell antiseptic and syringes. Where was I? My hand slowly found my forehead and pressed on it as I opened my eyes. It felt like I just recovered from a bad headache.

An IV was attached to the back of my hand.

“You are awake?” a woman in a doctor’s coat asked with a smile. “How are you feeling, ma’am?”

“I…” my throat dried. I remembered I had a terrible ache in my abdomen before falling unconscious. What if something happened to my baby? “M-my baby. How is my baby?” I was worried as well as scared.

The lady smiled, touching my arm and spreading a sense of comfort. “Your baby is fine. But you need to rest. You shouldn’t be anxious or worried about anything. It can affect you and the baby’s health.”

Relief washed over me. The heavy stone that had taken residence in my heart disappeared at her words. My baby was alright.

However, my relief dissipated when I realized I was in a place I had no idea of. I had no idea of who hit me or brought me here.

“Who brought me here, Doctor?” I asked, trying not to panic. I had to heed to the Doctor’s warning. I couldn’t risk my child’s life.

“I’m the one,” said a deep husky voice.

I raised my head and saw a man who was 6ft tall and with an aura I couldn’t quite place. He had the purest and finest green eyes I had ever seen. He looked very trimmed and neat. The white T-shirt he wore tugged at his muscular fitted arm and his up buttons were open, exposing his chest and some part of his abs.

A momentary confusion passed over my face.

“I hit you with my car,” he glanced at his wrist watch. “Shit! I just missed my flight. I couldn’t leave you in your unconscious state on the road.”

“I’m so sorry,” my quizzical look had changed to an apologetic one. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

He started approaching me. I peered at him. “I should be the one apologizing. I should have honked, earlier. I got a call from uncle Roberts. I was trying to grab my phone when my car hit you.”

He took a cup of tea from the tray next to me. He stretched it to me. “Drink this. It’ll help you.”

I sat up. “No, thanks, I’m fine. I should take my leave now.”

“Mr Robert will be mad at me if I let you leave. After all, you don’t have a home,” he paused and continued. “Sorry about your divorce, by the way.”

How did he know about my divorce and about me being homeless?