I started packing my stuff.
“Ashley, about the divorce…”
Mark watched me, pregnant and busy, and
reached out like he was going to help.
“Don’t worry. I’ll sign the papers right now.”
I grabbed a pen and signed my name.
As I wrote the last letter, Mark suddenly
grabbed my hand.
“Ashley, I know you’re mad, but Brittany’s
dying. I have to do this.”
“After she’s okay, I’ll marry you again. We can
be a family.”
He looked at me, full of remorse. “I still have
feelings for you.”
<
Right, yeah.
I actually thought he cared.
His hot promises when he proposed, our
honeymoon and the first few months.
When we had a baby on the way, he was so
excited.
But none of that mattered when it came to
Brittany’s “dying wish.”
He’d have cut me open alive to save her.
How could I have been stupid enough to
believe him?
“Dr. Miller, the divorce papers are signed. We
don’t have a relationship.”
I laughed. “If we have to have a relationship,
you are my sister’s husband.”
I walked away, ignoring Mark’s face, which
was now as red as a tomato.
I left the house, but didn’t go back to my
parents‘.
They were cold and uncaring, and I didn’t
<
want anything to do with them.
