Chapter 2. No Longer Mrs. Hunter

Brie POV

Two things came to my head at once. My husband is awake, and he is divorcing me.

“It does not make sense,” I said to Mr. Langley who looked so much like he wanted the ground he stood on to swallow him. His body language screamed of guilt and pity.

I can’t stand it anymore.

There had to be a misunderstanding somewhere, and the only person who could clarify and explain the questions in my head was my husband, who, I believed, was still lying in the ICU bed.

Immediately, I asked one of the company drivers to get a car ready for me, but no one was moving. It looks like everyone knew about Noah’s decision to divorce me except me.

I could not help feeling bitter, seeing how these same people who used to bow down in my presence suddenly turned cold and uncaring. How have the tides quickly turned?

I pivoted on my heels and started walking back to the hospital. But before I could do that, Uncle Matt called me.

When I turned around to inquire, I was shocked when he upended a box and let its contents drop to the floor. Anger rose inside me when I noticed those were my office things he was throwing. My favorite pens, my mug – one of the couple’s mugs I bought for Noah and me, several notepads, and my framed wedding picture, which previously sat proudly on my desk.

I dropped to my knees to collect them, glaring at Uncle Matt’s smirking face.

Mr. Langley took the box Uncle Noah threw to the side and handed it to me so I could put my things into it. The mug was in disrepair, as was the glass on the frame. Still, I took everything with me.

I thanked him and walked away.

With the box in my arms, I half-run to the hospital and went straight to my husband.

“He was transferred to the ward.” The ICU nurse told me, unaware of my inner turmoil.

Noah Hunter was awake from a coma, and the first thing he did was to divorce me.

Even so, I could not help saying a little prayer in my head for this bit of good news.

Hurriedly, I left the box I was clutching in my arms at the nurse station and proceeded to my husband’s room. My heart thudded in my chest.

A small gasp escaped my lips when I saw him standing by the window. I almost cried at this miracle. How I despaired in the past few weeks when Noah’s condition did not show any improvements.

I drank on the sight of his back.

“Noah,” I called to get his attention.

“I knew you would come.” He told me, still refusing to look my way.

A sudden yearning invaded my senses. I wanted to see his face.

I tried advancing to the room, but my feet would not carry me. I suddenly find it hard to step forward.

“I believe you have our divorce papers?” He asked while his back was to me.

His position denied me a glimpse of his face.

“Why?” I asked in a hoarse voice.

There were a few moments of impenetrable silence between us until Noah broke it.

“Simple. My parents are dead. I no longer have to endure keeping you around. You must know that I did not marry you for love.”

The ruthless words were so not the Noah I know. It was like he was a different person now.

My chest tightened.

“Noah.” I said, trying to make an appeal.

“My parents insisted I marry you after they found you in my bed.” He reminded.

Yes, I knew it had always been his parents’ idea for Noah to marry me. They had been open about it since they took me from the orphanage.

They groomed me to be his perfect little wife.

I have no complaints. I loved Noah the first time I saw him.

But Noah does not share my feelings. He opposed the idea. He left home and did not return for years.

I also knew he loved someone else while he was away.

He had someone he wanted to marry but later called off the engagement. I was not privy to the reason. Back then, Noah returned a changed man, I was so sure love changed him drastically.

It took him a while before he came around and accepted me. We became lovers secretly until the morning when his parents found out about the affair.

Noah married me.

I thought it was because his feelings had changed. In our three years of marriage, I never had an inkling that he was faking it.

“I thought you wanted me, too? That you liked me as much as I liked you?”

“Have I ever told you that?” He countered, that shut me up.

Not once in the three years we were together did Noah tell me that he likes me.

My silence was broken by Noah’s sarcastic laugh. What he said next sealed our fates.

“I am pretending to be happy for my parents’ sake. Now that they are no longer with us, I could not keep the pretense anymore. I want you gone. From this day forward, we do not have any connection with each other.”

“I don’t love you. I can never love someone like you.”

I bit my lip when a whimper started to break out.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” I asked.

“Never been surer.” He replied with a hint of arrogance in his voice.

The room became silent after that. I did not speak because I wanted to give Noah a chance to change his mind, while at the same time, I debated with myself on whether to tell him about the baby.

In the end, I did nothing and just nodded and accepted what he wanted.

“Okay,” I said.

There was a knock on the door, and Mr. Langley’s worried face showed.

“You asked for me, Mr. Hunter?” He asked Noah before nodding at me.

“Give Briana the divorce agreement so she can sign.” He told her without looking back at us.

I took the paper.

“Where do I sign?” I asked Mr. Langley in a voice that surprised even me. It was strong and steady even when my world was crashing down on me.

Mr. Langley pointed at the space where he needed my signature and handed a pen to me.

I took it, walked to the retractable table on Noah’s bed to lay down the paper, and signed my name in bold letters. BRIANA JOHNSON.

Staring at my signature, one fact glared back at me. It is a reality that I have to face from now on. I am no longer Mrs. Hunter.