Chapter 2

Chapter 2:
The next day, parked just outside the courthouse, Brandon sat in his Maybach, quietly tapping the steering wheel with his left hand.
“Brandon, you and Millie have been married for a year now. Don’t you think it’s time to start planning for a baby?” An elderly voice drifted from the phone’s speaker.
Brandon’s face softened, a trace of frustration flickering through, but his patience didn’t waver.
“Grandma, we’re still young. There’s no need to rush. You and Grandpa should focus on staying healthy. He—”
“What do you mean by ‘There’s no need to rush’?” The elderly voice rose in annoyance. “Your grandfather’s condition might have improved, but we’re not getting any younger. We don’t know how much time we’ve got left.”
“Grandma—”
“Don’t give me that! I’ve heard things, Brandon. Whatever’s going on, be good to Millie.”
Silence fell over the line for a few seconds.
“Brandon, did you hear me?” the elder asked.
Brandon rubbed his forehead in frustration. “I understand, Grandma.”
They exchanged a few more words before he ended the call.
Brandon resumed tapping the steering wheel with his fingers, this time slower, more distracted. He stared through the windshield toward the courthouse.
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He clenched his jaw. Then, he opened the messaging app on his phone.
His thumb hovered over a familiar profile picture—a simple floral image, tagged “My Love.” He skipped past it and opened the thread with Millie.
The last message he’d sent her simply reminded her of the time and place to meet for the divorce. She still hadn’t shown up.
With a scowl, Brandon sent a new message. “Where are you?”
A knock on the window followed almost instantly. He turned to see Millie standing outside, her face a little pale.
She opened the door and slipped into the passenger seat, giving him a blank look.
He hadn’t changed out of yesterday’s clothes—the same ones she had picked out for him.
Through the years, it had always been her—choosing his ties, picking his cologne, arranging every detail down to the fit of his tailored shirts and suits.
“Why are you late?” Brandon asked.
Millie looked away.
“I’m not late,” she said quietly.
She was simply no longer the girl who would always arrive early and wait for him without thinking.
Brandon’s fingers stilled against the wheel. His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her.
Millie looked a little pale, maybe from a sleepless night after he mentioned the divorce. Still, she looked fine.
“My grandma called earlier,” Brandon muttered, looking away. “Don’t tell them about the divorce. They’re too old to handle something like that.”
Millie didn’t respond right away. Instead, she asked, “What did your grandma say?”
“She wants us to have a baby,” Brandon said flatly, a flicker of irritation slipping into his voice.
Silence settled in the car.
After a while, Millie let out a small, soft laugh.
Brandon curled his hand into a fist and turned his face to the window.
There were moments when he used to imagine what their child might look like. He remembered holding her from behind, pressing a hand gently over her belly, whispering, “Millie, when will you give me a baby?” But it hadn’t happened.
Anyway, they could always remarry in six months and start planning for a baby.
There would still be enough time.
Vivian, however, only had six months left.
Outside, passersby came and went.
Then Millie spoke up. “Just once more, Brandon. Are you completely sure you want to go through with the divorce?”
He hadn’t changed out of yesterday’s clothes—the same ones she had picked out for him. Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on
Through the years, it had always been her—choosing his ties, picking his cologne, arranging every detail down to the fit of his tailored shirts and suits.
“Why are you late?” Brandon asked.
Millie looked away.
“I’m not late,” she said quietly.
She was simply no longer the girl who would always arrive early and wait for him without thinking.
Brandon’s fingers stilled against the wheel. His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her.
Millie looked a little pale, maybe from a sleepless night after he mentioned the divorce. Still, she looked fine.
“My grandma called earlier,” Brandon muttered, looking away. “Don’t tell them about the divorce. They’re too old to handle something like that.”
Millie didn’t respond right away. Instead, she asked, “What did your grandma say?”
“She wants us to have a baby,” Brandon said flatly, a flicker of irritation slipping into his voice.
.
.
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