My body stiffened. I turned back, my eyes burning. “What did you say?”
“I said, apologize,” he repeated, his gaze cold. “Don’t make me say it twice.”
“What if I don’t?” My voice shook, but I still asked.
His expression didn’t change. “Then maybe the cooperation between your family and mine… needs to be reconsidered. You understand what I mean, right?”
My heart dropped. So this was it? He was using my family now. Everything they worked for… he could crush it with one word.
The room went silent.
For a few seconds, I couldn’t hear anything.
Then slowly, I lowered my head.
“…I’m sorry,” I said, my voice hoarse.
Amber covered her cheek, looking at me through tears. “Ms. Hereford… are you really apologizing? Or is this just how people like you say sorry? It doesn’t feel real…”
My fists clenched.
My nails dug into my palms.
Then I bent down.
Deep.
“I’m sorry,” I said again, my voice breaking but clear. “I shouldn’t have hit you. It was my fault. Please forgive me.”
Hudson didn’t say anything.
Amber sniffed softly. “I still… don’t feel sincerity…”
“Mikayla,” Hudson said, his voice colder now. “Don’t even think about leaving until you apologize properly.”
My lips trembled.
“I’m sorry,” I said again, biting down hard so I wouldn’t cry. “It won’t happen again. I swear.”
I straightened slowly and looked at him. “Is this enough?”
For a second… he just stared at me.
Something flickered in his eyes.
Like he remembered something.
Maybe the past.
But it disappeared just as fast.
“That’s enough,” he said coldly.
I nodded once.
Then I turned and walked out.
Didn’t look back.
Behind me, I heard his voice again… but it wasn’t for me.
“Does it still hurt?” he said softly. “Come here, I’ll put some medicine on it. Don’t move.”
Amber’s voice came, quiet and weak. “It does… be gentle, okay…”
I kept walking.
Tears fell, but I wiped them away fast.
Like they never existed.
…
The next few days, he didn’t come home. And I didn’t call. Not once.
On the day everything became official, I went alone. Signed the papers, took the document, listened to the clerk say it was finalized. When they handed it to me, I just stared at it for a second, my fingers brushing over the words.
Divorce.
That was it. No tears. No pain. Nothing.
It was still early when I left. I got a cab and went back to the house, just to grab the last of my things. But the moment I opened the door, I froze.