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Facade of Love

Chapter 119
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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 the lawyer’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.”

I just nodded in response.

There was plenty of time, so I reached out to Dad’s old lawyer 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

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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 black

The villa was dark and silent. I lingered in the yard, a place 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 to laugh–a bitter, self–deprecating laugh. 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 black coat, towered over Moore with his tall, striking figure,

making her look even more delicate by comparison.

They looked like a perfect pair, but I was not in the mood to play 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 flashed a challenging look my way as she spoke. She was clearly

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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 explained. “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.”