Timothy''s deep, husky voice wasced with a sensual maism, every word coaxing and dangerously inviting. It was the kind of voice that could pull you under if you weren''t careful.
Jessica froze for a second, caught off guard by the way his tone seemed to wrap around her. But she snapped out of it quickly, her resolve hardening.
With a firm gesture, she made herself clear. "I want nothing but my own money."
Timothy didn''t get angry. What had happenedst night at the Red House still lingered in his mind as a source of guilt. He had to admit-he''d neglected her for years. If she was upset, if she wanted to make a scene, he could hardly me her.
He gave a soft, almost self-deprecating smile. "If you only care about your money, then what were these past seven years for? Don''t be silly. Be good, alright?"
Seven years. Seven wasted years. Did he really think she''d sign on for seven more?
Sorry.
She was fresh out.
All she had left was six months.
And for thesest six months, she was going to live for herself.
"It doesn''t matter anymore."
Watching her hands as she signed, Timothy''s lips pressed into a thin, hard line. The warmth in his voice faded, reced by something heavier. "So you''ve really decided to leave your husband and child behind?"
Jessica nodded without hesitation.
Timothy drew a long, unsteady breath, his eyes growing darker, hard to read.
Jessica didn''t care what he was thinking. She didn''t want to know.
After a long silence, he finally asked, "Why?"
He''d never actually asked her that, not once since she''d started demanding a divorce.
Jessica didn''t bother giving him a lengthy answer. Her hands moved, her expression cool and distant. "I''m tired."
Tired of a life that smothered her and showed no promise of change. Tired of the same old routine, day in and day out. Tired of waiting-hopelessly for a man who would never love her.
Husband, child, all of it. She was done.
Timothy''s gaze grew even dimmer.
She was tired.
Was it just the seven-year itch, finally eating away at them?
"You realize," he said, quiet but unmistakably threatening, "if I don''t agree, you wouldn''t just have trouble with the divorce-you might never be able to leave me at all."
That was Timothy: even his threats sounded like velvet.
Jessica knew exactly what he meant. But she wasn''t giving up. There was always a way out for those who were determined to find one.
His alluring voice drifted over again. "Even if we agree to file for divorce, there''s still a mandatory waiting period. Why don''t we use this month-give us one more chance? If you still want a divorce in a month, I''ll let you go."
Jessica paused, eyes narrowing slightly.
He was good at this-negotiation, reading the room, knowing exactly what to say to tip the scales in his favor. Heid out the terms so logically that she couldn''t find a reason to refuse.
She wasn''t about to find awyer willing to go up against Timothy, not in the short term. His suggestion was the fastest way to split.
But Timothy was a businessman-cunning, calcting. She had to be careful.
"And what if you change your mind in a month?" Her gestures softened, a hint of wariness in her eyes.
Timothy saw she was wavering, so he offered her reassurance. "I''ll have mywyer draft an agreement." His voice was steady, his gaze locked on hers. "If you''re worried, I can call him over right now."
Jessica nodded her agreement.
A contract meant she didn''t need to worry. Something legally binding. An amicable divorce, the fastest solution.
Timothy called hiswyer, who arrived within half an hour.
Jessica signed to Timothy, "I''ll tell you my conditions. You ry them to yourwyer."
"Alright."
Even lying in a hospital bed, Timothy exuded that unshakable,manding presence.
Jessica began, her hands moving slowly.
"Irreconcble differences. Petition for divorce. One-month waiting period."
Timothy''s brow furrowed in displeasure.
It sounded like a death sentence.
A month''s reprieve, at best.
Jessica continued, "During the agreement period, the husband must not vite
the following terms."