Chapter 3
I walked around James and headed downstairs without looking back.
Behind me, I heard his voice, barely holding back his anger. "Olivia, if you walk out today, don't expect me to come begging you to stay."
I didn't stop.
After three years of marriage, he probably always thought I couldn't live without him.
The funny thing was, I used to think that too until today.
David Miller booked the hotel for me.
He was the one who fished me out of the water.
When I arrived, he was already waiting in the lobby, still in the black suit from the party. His cuffs were still wet. It was proof he'd jumped in to save me.
"The doctor said you should have someone watching over you tonight," he said, handing me the room key. "I had them send up some medicine and hot cocoa."
I took the key and murmured, "Thank you."
David glanced at me, didn't press for details, and said quietly, "Pulling someone out of the water is easy. Crawling out of a marriage that's gone bad is way harder. If you've made up your mind, I can help."
I blinked, caught off guard.
"Help me with what?" I asked.
"Divorce," he said, locking eyes with me. "Right now, I'm your best option."
That was when it hit me that David was one of the top divorce lawyers in Silverlake City.
We used to be college classmates, but we barely kept in touch. All I knew was that he was doing pretty well.
Tonight on the cruise, we bumped into each other for a second.
I never thought he'd be the one to save me.
I gripped the room key, my palm cold.
"David, I might lose in an ugly way," I said.
He gave a faint smile, his tone calm. "You've made it through the worst. It only gets better from here."
That line almost made me cry.
It wasn't that his words were anything special.
From the moment I was pulled out of the water until now, he was the only one who cared if I was hurting, if I was scared, or if I felt humiliated.
I turned away, blinking back the heat in my eyes.
"Alright," I said. "Mr. Miller, I'm counting on you to help me lay this marriage to rest."
The next morning, I'd barely opened my eyes when the trending topic exploded again.
Monica dropped a photo online.
In the photo, a man's hand offered her a glass of water, captioned with one sentence.
It read: [Thank you. Just like before, you're always the first to show up when I'm scared.]
His face wasn't in the shot, but the wedding ring and watch on that hand were so familiar that it stung to look at.
Netizens swarmed the post like sharks circling for a feeding frenzy.
[That has to be Mr. Carter, right?]
[Seriously, after all this, they're still not making it official? Rich people and their need to keep up appearances. It's so exhausting.]
[Looks like Mrs. Carter is out of the picture now.]
[Mr. Carter saved her last night and stayed with her today. If that's not love, I'll do a handstand.]
I stared at the photo for half a minute, then took a screenshot and sent it to James.
I only sent one line. [Is there anything else you want to explain?]
Ten minutes later, James called.
I picked up, but didn't say a word.
His breathing was a little heavy. "The photo isn't what you think. I asked someone to bring her some water, and it happened to get caught on camera."
I smirked. "Oh."
"Olivia."
I said, "Yeah."
James asked, "Don't you have anything else to say?"
I stared out the window at the gloomy sky and suddenly felt like none of this mattered anymore.
"James, I used to really like you, so I always tried to help you save face. But now I realize you don't need me for that. You're perfectly good at making yourself look bad," I said.
He went quiet for a couple of seconds.
He sounded tense. "What do you want?"
"Sign the papers," I said.
"Anything else?" he asked.
"Nope," I replied.
I hung up.
Half an hour later, Helen called.
She skipped the niceties and went straight for the jugular. "Olivia, what drama did you cause last night? James was up all night handling PR, and you can't even be considerate.
"Now you bring up divorce? Are you dying to make the Carter Family look worse in front of everyone?"
I put her on speaker and took a slow sip of my hot cocoa.
"Helen, the joke everyone's laughing at isn't because of me," I said.
"What do you mean by that?" she snapped.
"I mean, your son jumped into the sea to save someone else. I didn't push him in or anything," I replied.
Helen was momentarily stunned. Then her tone got sharper. "Monica and James grew up together.
"She was terrified, so James taking care of her is only natural. But you? After three years of marriage, you still can't show a bit of tolerance."
I couldn't help but laugh.
"How about this? Why don't you give Monica the Mrs. Carter spot, and I'll stay out of the way? That's more than generous, isn't it?" I shot back.
"You—" she snapped.
"And another thing," I cut her off. "Divorce isn't me making a scene. It's a heads-up. And stop trying to play the 'I'm your elder' card on me. I'm done with that."
I hung up, and finally, the world was quiet.
At noon, James's grandmother, Mary Carter, sent her driver to pick me up.
I didn't want to go, but the driver said Mary saw the trending topics first thing this morning, and her blood pressure spiked. She wanted to see me.
In the end, I went.
Carter Manor was so quiet that it felt like the whole place had gone into hibernation.