Chapter 119


    Chapter 119 Divorce Agreement


    Mom looked taken aback and hesitated, but she nodded. “I did. But Yvette, are you sure about


    divorcing Idris? He’s been like a shadow outside your hospital room, knowing you’re giving him the cold


    shoulder. He even sent Liam to check in on you every day. Yvette, about that night…”


    I cut her off, my voice steady as a rock. “Mom, it’s history. I’ve made up my mind. There’s a whole lot of


    my life ahead of me, and I’m not about to walk down the same painful path again and again. Plus, you


    and Dad always said we can’t live in yesterday’s shadow. We’ve got to keep our eyes on the


    horizon‘


    Mom let out a heavy sigh and gave a small nod. “Okay, I’ll give you thewyer’s number. I’ve already


    filled him in about you and Idris. He’s got a draft of the divorce papers ready. Just meet up with him to


    hammer out the details.”


    Belonging ? N?velDram/a.Org.


    I just nodded in response.


    There was plenty of time, so I reached out to Dad’s oldwyer with the info Mom had given me and set


    up a meeting.


    Drafting a divorce agreement was not rocket science. I was not after anything from Idris or his family,


    the Youngs. I just wanted out. Once Idris signed on the dotted line, we would be done no more


    husband and wife.


    After the meeting, clutching the draft agreement, I felt a hump in my throat. It was more than that–I was


    struck by the bitter irony of it all. People just were not decisive enough, and that was why they ended


    up getting hurt over and over.


    If I had only known about Idris and Moore from the get–go, or if I had been firmer, maybe, just maybe,


    that poor kid would still be here.


    The thought of the child still sent a sharp pang through me.


    I took a deep breath and drove off to Clearwater Residence.


    Lake City had turned chilly, and night was falling faster these days. By the time I got to Clearwater, it


    was pitch ck


    The vi was dark and silent. I lingered in the yard, a ce I had called home for two years. I knew


    every inch of it. When I first moved in, I dreamed of a future here with Idris–raising kids, setting up a


    swing set, and getting a fluffy white puppy.


    I dreamed of a simple, happy life with Idris.


    “Hal” The thought made me want tough–a bitter, self–deprecatingugh. I was such a fool, so naive,


    so utterly ridiculous.


    “Yvette!” A soft, feminine voice called out from behind me. I snapped out of my reverie and turned


    around to see Moore and Idris just arriving


    Moore was carrying a fancy box that looked like it was filled with pastries–probably a treat from their


    recent shopping trip.


    Idris, decked out in a sleek ck coat, towered over Moore with his tall, striking figure, making her look


    even more delicate byparison.


    They looked like a perfect pair, but I was not in the mood to y the audience to their picture–perfect


    scene. I met Idris’s gaze and asked coolly, “Can we talk?”


    He seemed caught off guard but nodded. He turned to Moore and said, “Head back, and be careful.”


    Moore gave me a quick once–over, nodded, and started to walk away. Then, as if struck by a sudden


    thought, she spun around and said to Idris, “Oh, the new house has a leak in the bathroom. Iddy, could


    you check it out for me when you get a chance?”


    Her flirtatious face shed a challenging look my way as she spoke. She was clearly marking her


    territory.


    I did not take the bait, though the thought of their ‘new house‘ almost made me chuckle. It was obvious


    Idris had set her up close by, probably to keep an eye on her.


    Once Moore was gone, Idris did not immediately speak. He stepped closer and reached for me, saying,


    “It’s chilly out here. Let’s go inside to talk.”


    I sidestepped his reach, putting some space between us.


    Ignoring his puzzled frown, I handed him the divorce papers.


    He looked at the document with a scowl, his deep voice filled with confusion. “What’s this?”


    “It’s our divorce agreement,” I exined. “Don’t worry, I’ve made it clear in there that I won’t take


    anything from the Youngs after the divorce. Just sign it, and we’re done. No strings attached.”


    He stared at the papers, his handsome features creased with an even deeper frown.


    I gave a nod, my patience wearing thin. He wouldn’t take the papers, so I just pushed the divorce


    agreement into his hands. “Look, I’ve got things to do. Read it, sign it, and we’ll pick up our divorce


    certificate.”