The Spark He Showed Her, the Flame I Lost Chapter 04
At two o’clock that afternoon, I arrived on time in the conference room at Adrian’s company.
The German clients were already seated inside. Sophie sat beside Adrian, frantically flipping through the documents in front of her.
When Adrian saw me walk in, the deep crease between his brows finally eased a little.
For the next three full hours, I handled an intense simultaneous interpreting session.
I forced myself through the dragging pain low in my abdomen and translated every technical term with precision. In the end, I helped the company land the deal.
When the meeting ended, the German clients left satisfied.
Only the three of us remained in the conference room.
“Claire, you were amazing.” Sophie came over with a cup of water in her hands, looking at me with open admiration.
“I couldn’t understand any of those terms just now. Thank God you were here. Drink some water to soothe your throat.”
My throat was so dry it burned, so I reached out and took the cup.
It was my custom forest-green insulated ceramic mug.
The mug felt warm in my hand. I did not give it much thought before twisting the lid open and taking a large sip.
In the next second, the thick taste of peanut butter exploded in my mouth.
I immediately spat the water into the trash can beside me and began coughing violently.
I was severely allergic to peanuts.
Adrian knew that better than anyone. When we had first started dating, I went into shock after accidentally eating peanut butter. He carried me over a mile through pouring rain to the hospital, his eyes red as he swore he would never let me go near anything with peanuts again.
“What are you doing?” Adrian stood and strode over, snatching the mug from my hand. His eyes were full of blame. “She was kind enough to pour you water. Why are you acting crazy?”
“There are peanuts in it.” I clutched my chest as my breathing turned rapid, forcing the words out with difficulty.
Sophie covered her mouth in shock, and tears immediately rolled down her face.
“I’m sorry, Claire. I didn’t know you were allergic to peanuts.”
“I just thought plain water tasted boring, so I added some crushed peanuts because they’re my favorite.”
“Adrian, I really didn’t do it on purpose.”
She cried as if she were the one who had suffered some terrible wrong.
When Adrian saw her like that, sympathy flashed through his eyes.
Then he turned back to me, his voice cold and impatient. “That’s enough. You spat it out, didn’t you? Sophie didn’t know you were allergic. Did you really have to react like that just to scare her?”
I leaned against the chair, gasping for air as cold sweat soaked my back.
He remembered what Sophie liked to eat, yet he had forgotten that peanuts could kill me.
“Apologize to her,” Adrian ordered, looking at me.
I lifted my head and stared at him in disbelief.
“I said, apologize to Sophie.” He frowned, his voice hardening. “What you did just now scared her. Claire, where are your manners?”
Looking at his self-righteous expression, I found the whole thing absurd.
I used every bit of strength I had to steady my breathing, then dug through my bag for my allergy medication.
Once the symptoms eased a little, I stood and smoothed down my clothes.
“If you keep being this petty and unreasonable, then we should just end this marriage.”
When I still did not respond, Adrian scoffed.
He was certain I could not leave him.
After all, for thirteen years, every time we fought, all he had to do was threaten divorce and I would immediately give in and apologize.
He thought this time would be the same.
But I only looked at him calmly.
“Fine. Then let’s end it.”
I unzipped my bag and placed the signed document on the conference table.
The words Divorce Settlement Agreement stood out in stark black and white.
Adrian’s eyes landed on the document. He froze for a moment, then his mouth curved into a smirk.
“Claire, you’re really pulling stunts like this now?”
He did not even look at the contents. He grabbed the agreement, tore it in half, and threw it into the trash.
Then he planted both hands on the table and looked at me.
“Fine. You want a divorce? Tomorrow morning at nine, outside the county courthouse. I’ll be there.”
“Fine.”
I answered and picked up my phone.
A new message had just appeared on the screen.
[Ms. Lawson, your one-way ticket has been issued. Flight DL264 departs tomorrow at 9:00 a.m.]