Watching Jason extend an offer that amounted to a fortune fit for the Forbes list, it was only Estre’s
weathered heart and the icy resolve born from a myriad of trials that kept her from faltering. Had this
been a few years earlier, she might have wavered, and brazenly suggested they give it another try.
She took a deep breath, not epting the share transfer documents and portfolio Jason pushed
towards her. “Jason, I don’t take what isn’t mine. What we had, it was never about money.”
As he began to protest, she cut in, “Just get the papers signed, that’s all.”
Jason, ever the businessman, reminded her, “Estre, you may not fully grasp the worth of Nelson
International these days. The shares alone are valued at over three hundred billion. Are you sure you
want to walk away?”
Nelson International was a titan of industry with a valuation in the trillions. Jason and his father,
Landon, held a sixty-one percent majority, with the remainder spread between various stakeholders
and public shares. This divorce wasn’t a petty squabble over chump change. It was a genuine division
of wealth.
At Jason’s prod, Estre chuckled, “I don’t take what isn’t mine.”
Before he could say anything more, she nced at her watch, “I’ve got someone to meet. Let’s get this
done.”
Reluctantly, Jason left the paperwork on the table. He’d hoped she would ept it all, but Estre
didn’t give him the chance.
The legal formalities were swift, a mere ten-minute affair, and they emerged into the bright day, each
with their own decree of independence.
At the courthouse steps, Jason, hands buried in his jeans pockets in a familiar gesture, turned to
Estre. She, hands tucked in her charcoal cashmere coat, met hist gaze and slowed her pace.
Jason halted, looking down at her, “If you need anything in the future, I hope you’lle
to me.”
They had known each other for twenty-six years, beyond the scope of their failed marriage. Once, they
had been so close.
With her hands still in her pockets, Estre simply smiled, “Sure.”
Sensing his hesitation, she nced at her watch again, “I’ve really got to go.”
With a soft grunt of acknowledgment from Jason, Estre offered a generous smile and strode toward
the parking lot.
As Estre drove off, Jason, who had intended to apologize for past wrongs and offer constion,
found his intent moot in the face of her indifference.
“Ms. Estre,” Drew called out as she approached.
Estre gave aforting pat on his arm. Her gesture nearly brought Drew to tears, ironic given that
she was the one who had just been divorced.
“Ms. Estre,” he whimpered, his voiceden with a mix of sorrow and admiration.
With augh, she replied, “I’ve got things to do, Drew. Can’t coddle you all day.” She climbed into her
car and, seeing Drew’s forlorn figure in the rearview mirror, waved before speeding off.
Jason arrived just in time to overhear Drew’s wistful remark about Estre’s grace in letting go. A cold
nce from Jason was enough to silence him, who hurriedly opened
the car door.
Estre didn’t immediately share the news of her divorce with family or friends like Bryce and Jesse. It
wasn’t until a weekter, during a family dinner when Autumn inquired about her and Jason, that
Estre nonchntly revealed that the divorce was finalized.
Autumn, taken aback, eventually sighed, “It’s good the paperwork’s done.”
Yet the thought of the years Estre and Jason had known each other, and the hope that they could
have worked things out, left hermenting, “It would have been nice if you two could have had a happy
ending.”
Everyone had believed that the bond forged over two decades would see them through any conflict, but
fate had other ns.
Estre sensed her mother’s mncholy and reassured her, “Mom, Isaac’s here, and that was my goal
all along.”
“Isaac isn’t Jason’s child,” Autumn retorted, then added, “Estre, you should at least find a father for
Isaac. It’s not right. No one even knows who her dad is.”
Isaac watched at Estre and babbled, “Daddy, daddy.”
Estre assured, “Isaac will have a daddy when she’s older.” She turned to Autumn, “Don’t worry,
Isaac’s got good genes.”
Estre’s nonchnce left Autumn at a loss. Estre had known Jason since they were children, and
they had even shared meals and clothes. The thought of the awkward encounters thaty ahead, and
the nostalgia of Estre and Jason’s past closeness, weighed heavily on Autumn’s heart.
Fate is beyond our control, indeed.
Autumn’s eyes, misty with the onset of tears, nearly caused Estre to drop the bowl she was holding.
In a quick effort to forestall a breakdown, Estre blurted out, “Mom, cut it
08:05
out. Isaac’s right here. Don’t start crying. If he picks up that trick from you, I’ll be run ragged.”
Estre had always dreaded seeing her mother cry. Once Autumn started, like a
faucet that couldn’t be turned off. Estre still recalled how, as a little girl, she had quickly learned to
hand her mother tissues to dab away the tears. One crybaby in the house was quite enough. There
was no need for a second,
Content bel0ngs to N?vel(D)r/a/ma.Org.
“Grandma, be good,” Isaac coaxed.
Autumn saw Isaac staring at her without blinking, behaving obediently, and she forcefully held back the
tears that were about to fall.
“And so, in a time long, long ago, there was an old man and an old woman…” After dinner, having
bathed Isaac, Estre settled into their bedtime routine, reading a story to lull him to sleep.
It wasn’t long before Isaac’s breathing evened out, signaling he had drifted off. Estre ced the book
on the nightstand and tenderly kissed Isaac’s chubby cheek, her heart aching a bit as she remembered
Isaac’s earlier question about his father. “Sweetie, I’m sorry. Mommy didn’t think everything through,”
she whispered, stroking Isaac’s hair.
Just then, Estre’s phone buzzed on the nightstand, drawing her attention. As she picked it up, her
expression shifted subtly.