Facade of Love

Chapter 92

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Chapter 92 He Agrees to Divorce

Idris furrowed his brows deeply, his dark eyes fixed on me as he said, “Yvette, what

exactly are you trying to say?”

I smiled faintly and continued, “Today at the Youngs‘ Old Manor, you asked me for the real

reason I wanted a divorce. At that moment, I wasn’t really sure what I felt. I always

thought although we’re not the most in love, our marriage over the past two years wasn’t

too bad either. At least, you’ve been quite good to me, and you’ve been a good husband

and father. If I were to obstinately disregard everything you said and deem our two–year

marriage a death sentence, then I’d be too rash of a person. After all, as you said, what

happened between you and Moore wasn’t exactly infidelity, so you aren’t entirely at fault.”

Some things were hard to express, but at this point, a decision had to be made.

Looking into his deep black eyes, I took a breath and said, “But, Idris, the past few months

in this marriage have been truly exhausting for me. Indeed, it seems like you’ve done

nothing wrong, and you still take care of me like before. But I’m just so tired. These days,

I’ve been convincing myself not to make hasty decisions and not to completely deny you.

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However, I no longer have any expectations for our marriage. So, Idris, I still want to

divorce. This decision isn’t because of Moore’s existence, nor is it for any other reason. I

just don’t want to continue. living my life with you anymore.”

The autumn night seemed filled with a silent fear.

He did not speak. His upright figure was wrapped in the dim street light, exuding an eerie

stillness and desolation, like a god hidden in the darkness. Because of his silence, the

situation seemed particularly helpless.

“Okay,” he finally said after a long silence, his voice neither loud nor soft.

I nodded, took a deep breath to steady my emotions, and said, “I’ll draft the divorce

agreement. Don’t worry, I know my limits and won’t take anything from the Youngs.”

Noticing his tightly clenched hands by his side, I felt an uncontrollable pang in my heart.

He pursed his l*ps, his handsome face hidden in the dim light, so his emotions were

inscrutable. His voice seemed much heavier as he asked, “The child… what do you plan to

do about it?”

The child!

on–existent child. What else could be done?

Having said what needed to be said, the rest seemed inconsequential.

Looking at him, I replied, “The pregnancy isn’t far along. I’ll make time to go to the

hospital.”

The temperature in the air suddenly dropped, and I shivered involuntarily, meeting his

grim black eyes. “Go to the hospital?” he echoed.

I nodded, unconsciously tugging at my clothes, feeling intimidated by his gaze. However, I

still said, “We’re both still young. You will marry and have children in the future, and so will

I. If I meet the right person, I will remarry. If this child is born now, it will inevitably

complicate our lives later. Since the pregnancy isn’t far along, aborting it is for the best for

both of us.”

Bang!

Suddenly, a tall flower pot nearby shattered under his kick. Before I could react, Idris

grabbed my wrist, holding me tightly, and said, “Yvette, do you view life so cheaply? To be

so casually thrown away?”

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His grip was so strong that it was painful. I tried to pull away but could not. Then, frowning

at him, I said, “Idris, you’re hurting me.”

He was unmoved, his dark eyes boring into me with cold fury.

I took a breath, meeting his gaze. “I’m not throwing away a life, but this child must be

aborted.” Even if I wanted to keep it, how could I keep a non–existent. child?

This predicament Madam Young bestowed upon me was too difficult to resolve. Over the

last few days, I thought of countless solutions, but it seemed the only outcome was this,

whether Idris and I continued to be together or separated. This non–existent child was too

hard to deal with.

Idris‘ anger was palpable. My wrist felt like it was about to break under his grip. With a

dark face, he said word by word, “Yvette, if you dare harm this child and think about

divorcing me again, you’re dreaming!”

I was stunned and rendered speechless.

He let go of my wrist, leaving a lingering pain.

Watching him enter the villa, seething with anger, I stood there, unsure what to do:

He wanted me to keep this non–existent child before agreeing to a divorce.

Still, how could I keep a non–existent child?

My head was aching more and more.

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