Divorce Day Reset: My Wife Back at Seventeen Chapter 01
I listened as Liliana Coolidge’s all-too-familiar voice drifted into my ears from behind a door.
She spoke fluent Orinian and sounded serious. “The fact that I’m pregnant with Mo’s baby must stay a secret. Simon can’t find out about this.”
There was a brief silence in the private room, then a wave of cheers and teasing.
“Damn, Lili, you’re a legend! Which position is best for getting knocked up? Spill!”
“Relax, Lili. We all know Simon’s your whole life. We’ll make sure he never finds out.”
Liliana thought I couldn’t understand Orinian, so whenever she wanted to gossip about her boy toys, she loved switching to it. Well, it’s true that I couldn’t understand in the past. But things were different now.
My hand slipped from the doorknob, and I turned to the young woman beside me in disbelief. Her eyes were red-rimmed.
“What did she say?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. Still, a slight tremor at the end betrayed the turmoil inside me.
Her expression twisted, complicated and conflicted.
I added quietly, “Don’t lie to me.”
She clenched her jaw, her lips trembling for a long time before she managed to force the words out. “She said… she’s pregnant with Mo’s baby.”
I’d known that Liliana was cheating for a while, but actually hearing that she was carrying Maurice Gray’s kid still sent a sharp stabbing ache through my heart.
I lowered my eyes and let out a bitter, humorless little laugh. “Now you get why I have to leave, don’t you?”
I looked straight at the young woman and called her name. “Liliana Coolidge.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks. In the murky, dim light of the corridor, her face was identical to the 27-year-old Liliana laughing inside the room. The difference was that 27-year-old Liliana had learned to keep her boy toys a secret from me, while 17-year-old Liliana only had eyes for me.
The young Liliana sounded lost and helpless, her voice shaking with sobs. She asked me, “Si, why?”
A day ago, she’d suddenly appeared behind me. When she’d seen the divorce papers in my hand, she’d also asked me why. At the time, she didn’t understand why I would choose to walk away from her.
Now, she couldn’t understand why she, the woman who had promised to treat me well for a lifetime, had hurt me so badly ten years down the road.
Her throat closed up. She couldn’t get another word out.
I reached out to ruffle her hair, but my fingers passed straight through her shadowy, insubstantial form. “There aren’t that many reasons for these things. Anyway, a promise is a promise. I won’t forget what I said I’d do.”
