The Devorse Confirmation

Yvette, still trembling from his coldness, watched as Owen slowly stood up, his tall figure casting a shadow over her. His expression was still unreadable, distant, like someone who had long since let go of any attachment.

Owen's voice was calm, almost devoid of emotion, as he spoke.

"When are you going to give me the divorce?"

Yvette's eyes widened, the sting of his words cutting deeper than she anticipated. "What… what do you mean?" she snapped, her voice laced with disbelief and anger. "After all this, after everything I've done for you, you're still asking for a divorce?!"

Owen crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze fixed on her with an unsettling calm. "You don't need me," he said simply. "You've always had everything. The wealth, the power, the life you desired. I'm nothing more than a burden to you now."

Yvette's fingers clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. "A burden?" she hissed, her voice rising. "You're not some helpless man I took pity on, Owen! You begged me for everything—my love, my life, my world! And now, you're asking for a divorce?"

Owen took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "I've already left behind that life," he said, his voice even colder. "What I was… what I wanted… it's gone. I don't belong here anymore."

Yvette's chest heaved with rage and frustration. "And you think this is your right? To walk away from everything like it means nothing?!"

Owen stared at her, his gaze unwavering. "I don't belong here," he repeated. "Not in your life, not in this mansion. So when are you going to stop pretending we're still connected and give me the divorce?"

Tears welled up in Yvette's eyes, but she fought them back, her pride refusing to break. "I won't give you a damn thing!" she shouted. "You'll stay here—you're legally my husband! If word gets out about what's happening between us, people will ask questions. They'll want to know why you abandoned me, why you're acting like this!"

Owen didn't flinch. "Then let them ask," he said, his voice monotone. "I've already given up. My answers mean nothing to you."

Yvette's breath hitched, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. She wanted to scream at him, to demand the man who once loved her back, but all that remained was this cold stranger in front of her.

Yvette stood there, still trembling from the confrontation, her mind racing. Owen's calm, emotionless tone only deepened her frustration, but his next words made her pause, the impact hitting her like a tidal wave.

Owen turned slightly, glancing back at her, his gaze piercing. "What about Randall?" he asked, his voice hollow. "Once he comes back, will you still refuse to give me the divorce?"

Yvette froze, the question cutting through her like a knife. Randall… the man she had been waiting for, the one she believed she could build everything with once Owen was gone. He was the reason she hadn't signed the papers yet—her assurance that he would return and everything would fall into place.

Her grip tightened around the edge of the table, knuckles turning white. "What do you care?" she snapped, trying to mask the doubt creeping into her voice. "Randall isn't here. He'll come back, but until then, you're still my husband."

Owen stepped closer, his calm demeanor unshaken. "You're holding onto a promise," he said softly. "A promise that might never come. What happens if he never returns? Will you be able to live with that?"

Yvette's heart raced, her breath shallow. "He will come back," she said, more to herself than to him. "I trust him. He always comes back."

Owen tilted his head, his expression still unreadable. "What if he doesn't?" His voice was devoid of any emotion. "What if, even after all this time, you're still waiting… and he never shows up? Will you continue to cling to what might never be?"

Yvette felt the weight of his words, the certainty behind them striking a chord in her. She clenched her jaw, refusing to let him see how deeply his questions affected her. "It doesn't matter," she said coldly. "Randall will come back. And when he does, I'll be ready. But until then, you're still mine, Owen."

Owen stared at her for a long moment, his gaze unyielding. "Is that what you truly want?" he asked, his tone flat. "To hold onto someone who's already let go? To live in a future that may never come?"

Yvette gritted her teeth, the bitterness rising within her. "I don't need to explain myself to you."

But Owen didn't back down. "I've already let go," he said, almost in a whisper. "I'm asking for the divorce now because that's what I want. Not because I need your wealth or your power… but because I need my freedom."

Yvette's breath hitched, the anger building once again. "Freedom?" she scoffed. "You think you can just walk away from me and take your freedom? You'll always be my husband, Owen. You'll always belong to me."

Owen didn't flinch. "I belong to no one," he said, his voice cutting through the silence between them. "Not you, not this house, not this life. And that's something you'll have to accept."

Yvette stared at him, the reality sinking in. "I won't accept it," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I won't."

Owen didn't say anything more. He turned away from her, walking back into the garden, leaving Yvette to stand alone with her shattered pride and uncertain future.

"You're not going anywhere," Yvette whispered, more to herself than to him. "You're mine, legally and in this house."

Owen didn't respond, only turning his back on her and walking toward the garden gate. "Then I'll sleep in the garden," he said softly, leaving Yvette standing there, broken and unsure of what came next.