My CEO Ex: Let Me Go.-Chapter 34

"Divorce Settlement Agreement. I’d like to discuss it with you again. Please come to the library."

"Okay."

I placed the towel down and followed Alexander out of the room, closing the door quietly behind me. We walked toward the library in silence.

Alexander pulled up the original electronic version of the Divorce Settlement Agreement, added a few new clauses, and stepped aside from the screen. "Take a look at the new additions."

I leaned over the desk, my hand resting on it, and studied the highlighted sections.

The first added clause stated that both of us would still live in the same villa after the divorce. Even after the Divorce Decree was granted, we were required to continue residing together at The Crescent Estates. I would help him hide the truth from our parents, and when necessary, we would pretend to still be a married couple when visiting Pop-Pop and Nana at Ashford Manor until they found out about the divorce.

The second clause stipulated that neither of us could discuss our marriage or divorce with outsiders.

The third clause forbade either party from bringing another person of the opposite sex to spend the night while living together at The Crescent Estates.

There was also a change in the property division. Originally, I was to receive twenty million dollars, two villas, and 10% of the shares. Now, it had increased to fifty million dollars, two villas, and 10% of the shares.

I reviewed the new clauses carefully. "About the first clause, I have an objection. The agreement says we have to live at The Crescent Estates until Pop-Pop and Nana know about the divorce. But if they never find out, doesn’t that mean we’ll have to keep living there indefinitely? And since you can’t publicly be with Isabella, what’s the point of getting divorced at all?"

"We can add a time limit," Alexander suggested.

I thought for a moment. "Two months. Within two months after the divorce, Pop-Pop and Nana must know about it. After that, we can move out and live separately." If it dragged on longer, my pregnancy would become obvious, and the truth would inevitably come out.

A shadow crossed Alexander’s face. "Alright."

Two months. It seemed like she couldn’t wait to leave.

I must have disgusted her, I thought.

I pointed to the property division. "The original amount is fine. There’s no need for more."

"I promised you, and I broke that promise," Alexander said, his tone firm. "I’ll make it up to you here."

I didn’t intend to argue further. I just wanted to finalize the Divorce Settlement Agreement as quickly as possible.

After we both confirmed the details, Alexander reprinted two copies of the agreement.

We each signed one.

"Done," I said briskly, signing my name without hesitation. "If there’s nothing else, I’ll head back to my room now. Don’t forget to pick up the Divorce Decree on Monday."

"Mm," Alexander responded quietly.

I took my copy of the agreement and quickly returned to my room. Once I closed the door behind me, I leaned against it and immediately felt a wave of weakness. I sank to the floor.

My fingers trembled as I pressed them to my chest, the pain almost suffocating.

I had loved him for ten years. How could I just stop loving him so easily?

It was really happening. The divorce was final. We were going our separate ways.

Three years of marriage—neither long nor short—but always missing something.

While there was still some feeling left, it was better to end it now, to let this marriage remain a beautiful memory. Instead of waiting until the very end, looking back with bitterness and regret.

I couldn’t sleep.

Tossing and turning in bed, my mind replayed every detail from the past three years.

His tenderness, his intelligence, his thoughtfulness, his romance, his passion, even his indifference. I remembered it all, as if it had only happened yesterday.

I still remembered the V&R celebration party.

I had drunk a glass of wine, feeling dizzy, and went upstairs to rest in the hotel.

In my dazed state, a strong arm wrapped around my waist, pressing me down beneath him.

That night, all I could remember were fragmented, vivid images—intensely passionate.

Somehow, their situation reached Grandpa, who called us in for a discussion and eventually proposed a solution: we would get married.

There was no grand wedding; we simply had a meal with the Hawthorne Dynasty family at home, then went to get our marriage certificate.

I became Alexander’s wife.

At that moment, no one knew just how happy I was inside.

I married the person I loved.

I married him—the one I had loved for so many years.

He was so brilliant, so above me. I could only look up to him.

Before our marriage, we hadn’t interacted much. When I saw him, I would call out "Second Brother" from the farthest edge of the room.

He would acknowledge me with a brief "Mm," sometimes just nodding, and on rare occasions, he would ask after that "Mm," "Vivienne, how are your grades?"

That question, as though coming from a distant relative trying to ease the awkwardness, made my heart flutter for days.

I worked hard at my studies, first hoping he would notice me, but later, I simply wanted to walk beside him, openly, without fear.

I loved him like a firefly chasing the light of the sun and moon. I knew the path was fraught with obstacles, and the future uncertain, but I walked forward anyway, vowing not to turn back.

After we married, I continued to be cautious, afraid he would grow tired of me.

But Alexander was very understanding toward me. He led by example, teaching me how to interact with him. We grew closer, and our life became sweeter.

For me, those times were filled with sweetness.

Looking back now, I realize that he had already subtly expressed his feelings in certain ways.

After we married, he began buying condoms regularly.

A year after our marriage, I thought our life had finally settled.

After being intimate, I lay in his arms and whispered, “Alexander, let’s have a child.”

His demeanor suddenly hardened. “It’s not the right time yet.”

I didn’t understand at the time and asked, “When will it be the right time?”

“We’ll talk about it later. Be good,” he replied, patting my head before getting up to take a shower.

Looking back now, I realize he never intended to have children with me. The only woman who could bear his child was Isabella Blackwood.

If I had looked into his eyes in that moment, I would have seen the coldness there—not a hint of warmth.

Three years passed in a blur, like a silent film with only one viewer: me.

I still couldn’t warm his heart.

His heart had never stirred for me.

All I could do was smile and say goodbye.

The past faded into nothing, like a dream.

Alexander, may we part ways with the breeze still gentle, may you marry someone more beautiful, may our paths cross again in this life, sharing a long life together, our hair turning white.

May all grudges be forgotten, may there be no more resentment, a peaceful parting, and each of us finding happiness.

The difficulty of forgetting, like smoke vanishing into the air.

Suddenly, my phone rang.

I jolted awake, realizing I’d fallen asleep without noticing.

I glanced at the glowing screen—it was just after 3 AM.

Maximus was calling.

I answered, still groggy. “Hello, Maximus?”

“It’s me. You need to come pick up Alexander.”

“Alexander? Isn’t he at home?”

“He ran out at 1 AM to drink with me,” Maximus growled, “Who knows what’s going on with him?”

I hesitated. “Can’t you just bring him here?”

“He won’t leave. I tried, but he’s insisting on staying here and drinking.”

I looked out the window. The night was pitch black. At that moment, all the emotions from my dream were swept away by the wind.

This troublemaker.

What’s the point of going out in the middle of the night to drink? Can’t he just drink at home?