Fortunately, Timothy Xavier seemed to still trust me somewhat. He only lifted the corner of each page and signed his name where needed.
He didn’t even look at the contents of the contract.
It wasn’t until he signed the last page, the ’divorce agreement,’ that my heart finally settled.
I was afraid he’d realize what he had done.
Once he finished signing, I took the contract away.
Back in the master bedroom, I secretly took out that divorce agreement signed by Timothy Xavier and hid it in the book’s divider.
The cooling-off period for divorce is one month.
...
That night, I was ready to move out of the master bedroom.
When he returned to the bedroom and saw me limping as I packed my things to make way for his little mistress and illegitimate daughter, he stopped me.
"Let Nanny Lowell or the maids handle these things."
He spoke in a relatively gentle tone, "Once this period passes and they leave, you can move back."
"Don’t worry, they won’t stay long."
I chuckled sarcastically, my gaze brushing over his serious face, and said, "Then should I thank you for your kindness?"
Timothy’s face instantly turned cold.
I was only moving to the guest room, so there wasn’t much to pack.
I took some skincare products and clothes, and most importantly, the small wooden box on top of the bedroom wardrobe.
I didn’t let anyone help me. I stood on a chair and carefully took down that box.
The child in the photo was Timothy Xavier’s most treasured possession, and in this box was mine.
It’s just that my treasure cannot live freely and openly like other children; he can only remain forever in this sunless box.
While I was taking the box, Timothy was on the balcony making a call, meticulously instructing his assistant on the safest route to bring back Serena Sawyer and her daughter.
After he finished the call, he saw me holding the box in my arms and his brows furrowed in displeasure.
"What are you doing with that?"
His dark eyes showed a hint of confusion.
I couldn’t help but wonder, what if this child hadn’t died?
Would he still have cheated?
Would my child have been Timothy Xaviers’s treasure, too?
This thought flashed through my mind, but I didn’t want to waste any more energy on such a man.
As I was about to leave, Timothy suddenly grabbed my wrist and said, "I’m asking you, why are you taking that?"
I looked at him coldly and said, "Because it’s the only thing in this house that belongs to me."
Maybe I touched upon the last shred of conscience in Timothy Xavier, as his grip slowly loosened.
I moved to the guest room and placed the box in the safest spot, staring at it for a long time...
The next day at noon, Serena and the little girl were brought into the villa.
At that time, Nanny Lowell had just prepared lunch, and the entire table was vegetarian. No matter how varied and exquisite the dishes were, vegetarian was still vegetarian.
Serena and the child weren’t accustomed to it, but she seemed to want to please Timothy Xavier, so she not only pretended to enjoy it but also urged the child to eat, using a mix of cajoling and coercion.
I laughed to myself; the glamorous star on TV is nothing more in reality.
Thankfully, she’s not my idol.
After trying several dishes, Timothy Xavier put down his chopsticks in dissatisfaction and asked Nanny Lowell, "Were these ingredients flown in fresh today? The rice tastes off as well."
Nanny Lowell looked at me awkwardly before explaining to Timothy, "In the past, your meals were all personally prepared by Mrs. Xavier. Even the rice was steamed by her with a ratio of Ayaran jasmine rice, barley, truffle bits, and Turkish hazelnut crumbs. Today, since Mrs. Xavier is unwell, I’ve only managed to match the appearance, but I can’t replicate her flavor."
Timothy was probably surprised that the taste difference was so stark with someone else cooking.
His meaningful gaze lingered on me for a long time, but he never heard me offer to cook again.
After all, who would foolishly spend the time and energy to help another woman nurture a man?