There was a sudden silence on the other side, unsure if it was from shock or unable to speak due to excitement.
After all, only if I divorce can she move up.
I hung up the phone and just sat in front of the coffee table, quietly waiting for Timothy Xavier to come back.
However, I waited an entire night, not for Timothy Xavier, but for his assistant, Jolie Joyce.
From the moment Jolie walked in, I could sense her hostility towards me.
She had been Timothy Xavier’s assistant for three years, and I vaguely felt her feelings for him were not ordinary.
Seeing me, who hadn’t slept all night and looked weary, she seemed quite pleased, arrogantly saying, "President Xavier has kept you for nearly four years. Now, Miss Sawyer is about to become Mrs. Xavier; you must be feeling awful, right?"
Kept?
Ha!
The hidden marriage between Timothy Xavier and me was indeed kept tightly guarded.
Four years ago, I remember all the elders of The Xavier Family strongly opposed someone of my low status marrying Timothy Xavier.
In the end, I compromised, agreeing only to register for a marriage license but not hold a wedding.
Apart from those closest to us, no one knew about our marriage.
Back then, Timothy Xavier looked at me with eyes full of tenderness, stroking my hair and saying it was unfair to me; he vowed to give me a grand wedding once he secured the inheritance rights of the Xavier Group.
But in truth, Timothy Xavier had long secured those inheritance rights, yet I never got the wedding.
So much so that now, even his assistant thinks I’m just his kept woman.
She arrogantly said to me, "President Xavier asked me to investigate the news, and it just so happened I found out that the source of yesterday’s scandal about Miss Sawyer came from your company. As the editor-in-chief of the entertainment department, you couldn’t possibly be unaware."
Isn’t it easy to fabricate an accusation when you have a pretext?
He didn’t give me any explanation for cheating, yet he blamed me first.
With a blank expression, I said, "It wasn’t me."
Jolie snorted softly, "The evidence is right in front of you. You should just admit it, and part ways with President Xavier amicably! Don’t wait until you’re kicked out like a dog; that would be embarrassing!"
Just as she finished speaking, I suddenly stood up and slapped her.
Jolie froze on the spot, covering her face, looking at me in disbelief.
I threw the ’divorce agreement’ in front of her, turning my head, "How things are between President Xavier and me is none of your business! Get out!"
When Jolie saw the divorce agreement, her pupils almost shook with shock.
"You married President Xavier?"
But thinking about how her boss was already with Serena Sawyer, she gritted her teeth and squeezed out a cold smile, "President Xavier instructed me to handle everything. If you don’t admit that you leaked the news, then go kneel before Buddha and reflect. You can stand up when you realize your mistake! After all, Miss Sawyer is still crying!"
I almost laughed out of anger.
He had an affair?
And I’m supposed to reflect?
"You don’t have to go, but don’t forget, the life-support machine your vegetative mother is using was developed by Xavier Group and will only be on the market in a month. Now, President Xavier can have it stopped at any time. Your mother, just prepare for her death!"
Timothy Xavier was even more ruthless than I had imagined.
He knew very well that my mother was the only blood relative I had left in this world!
In the end, I bent my knees and knelt on that chilly floor.
The faint scent of ambergris in the prayer room, just like Timothy Xavier’s scent, filled all around me, penetrating every corner.
Never had I been more clear than at this moment; I want to divorce Timothy Xavier.
Nanny Lowell, seeing this, anxiously pleaded for me, "Assistant Joyce, madam can’t kneel like this! Her knees are bad; this really won’t do."
Three years ago, after the child passed away prematurely, Timothy Xavier only casually comforted me with a few words and continued flying all over the world, claiming it was for work.
But what he didn’t know was that countless late nights, I was kneeling in the prayer room asking Buddha if I could have my child back.
I was supposed to be in confinement, but I knelt in the prayer room every day, losing my appetite and my will to eat and drink, thus leaving behind a lingering ailment.
It was a time of continuous rain, and I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis.
Even the doctor was puzzled as to how someone so young could contract such a disease.
The doctor also said that this disease is irreversible, and the pain can only be controlled by medication on rainy days.
These things, even Nanny Lowell knew, but Timothy Xavier did not.
Nanny Lowell’s plea to Jolie fell on deaf ears, and unable to watch any longer, she said to me, "I’ll call the gentleman right now!"
I endured the sharp pain in my knees and gritted my teeth, "Nanny Lowell, don’t call Timothy Xavier."
Before, I didn’t tell him these things because I didn’t want us to be sad together.
But now, it was no longer necessary.
Because Timothy Xavier simply wouldn’t be sad for me.
But Nanny Lowell didn’t listen, insisting on dialing his number.
Yet once again, it wasn’t Timothy Xavier who answered, but a little girl’s tender voice, "Who is it? My dad is out shopping with mom!"
I chuckled to myself.
I don’t know when it started, but Timothy Xavier changed the password on his phone, almost never letting me touch it.
I thought he was just really concerned about his privacy.
But in fact, both his lover and daughter could touch his phone freely, only I couldn’t.
Nanny Lowell’s face instantly froze, quickly checking the phone number again; she hadn’t dialed it wrong.
Seeing my expression, she immediately understood what was going on and promptly hung up the phone.
I slightly tugged at the corner of my lips.
Not until my knees began to bleed did Jolie sneer and turn to leave.
As she was leaving, she left a parting threat: "Your attitude of admitting your mistake is very commendable, so I won’t mention it to President Xavier."
After they left, Nanny Lowell hurried over to help me into the room.
Every step I took was accompanied by a sharp intake of breath due to the pain.
Nanny Lowell was indignant on my behalf, choking up as she said, "The gentleman is too much! He let you kneel here for hours, yet he still has the leisure to accompany another woman shopping. And that little girl, she’s..."
Nanny Lowell found it too difficult to continue, unable to go on, only looking at me with concern.
I gave a weak smile and said, "Nanny Lowell, could you please get the medicine box for me?"
Not long after, I heard the familiar sound of footsteps outside the door.
It was Timothy Xavier who had returned.
His conversation with Nanny Lowell also reached my ears.
"What do you need the medicine box for?" he asked.
"Madam knelt in the prayer room for a whole night, her knees are all scraped."
"So delicate?"
Timothy Xavier’s words were clearly doubting Nanny Lowell, thinking that she and I were playing tricks to gain sympathy.
Nanny Lowell, summoning her courage, replied, "Assistant Joyce bullied her, kicked away the cushion, and madam was kneeling directly on the floor for hours."
Timothy Xavier’s tone turned a few degrees colder as he asked, "Who asked her to do that?"