Divorcing The Wrong Man: Her Regret

Chapter 2: Ding Dong

Her laugh was sharp, cutting. “A divorce? You? Are you fucking nuts?” She stepped closer, swaying slightly. Her eyes blazed. “You don’t get to walk away, Adrian. You and Aria — you’re my anchors, dragging me down. You think you can just leave? You’re nothing without me. If there’s anyone to initiate the divorce, it should be me, not you!”

Adrian didn’t answer. He just shook his head, the disappointment settling like ash in his throat. Finally, he’d seen her true colors —he actually had for a while now— but hearing it, feeling it, was different. He turned, walking toward the guest room. 

Behind him, a plate crashed to the floor, then another, and another. Vanessa in her rage, began smashing the dishes, screaming, turning the kitchen into a pile of mess. 

Adrian didn’t look back. Aria was asleep upstairs, her tiny heart counting on him. And tomorrow, the Cross family would remind Vanessa exactly who she’d just thrown away.

Vanessa stood in the wreckage of the dining room, shards of porcelain scattered across the floor. The table was a battlefield — smashed plates, spilled Merlot wine, lamb stew lay in greasy chunks across the carpet. A fork was stuck, improbably, in the curtain.

All the works of her hands.

Her head throbbed, the whiskey haze slowly fading into a dull ache. She didn’t care. Adrian’s words; ‘I want a divorce’ burned hotter than the liquor ever could. 

She pressed both hands into the edge of the table — or what was left of it — and tried to steady herself. Who the hell did he think he was, walking away from her? She grabbed her phone, her fingers shaking, and she dialed Lisa’s number.

“Hey V, it’s one in the morning,” Lisa’s voice crackled, groggy but sharp. “What’s up?”

“He’s done, Lisa. Adrian. He wants a divorce.” Vanessa’s voice broke, not from sadness but fury. She paced the living room, stepping over a broken candle. “Can you believe this guy? After everything I’ve built, he thinks he can just… leave?”

Lisa was a professional divorce lawyer and friend of Vanessa’s. She had always despised Adrian. Her laugh was cold, like ice clinking in a glass. “Oh, honey, that’s the best news I’ve heard all week. He’s finally crawling out of your life, why do you sound so upset? This is a good thing. But you do know he’s after your money, right? Guys like him always are.”

Vanessa leaned against the wall, the paint cool on her temple. She hadn’t thought of it like that, but now that Lisa said it… yeah. Adrian would want his slice. Especially with tomorrow’s deal. The Cross family signing meant her company’s value would shoot through the roof. The thought of him touching a cent of that made her want to put her fist through another plate angrily.

“No way. He’s not getting a dime. I’ve worked too hard for this. Over my dead body, Lisa. I am not fucking allowing that.”

“Oh dear, don’t worry, V,” Lisa reassured, her tone slick with confidence. “I’m the best divorce lawyer in this city. I’ll make sure he walks away with nothing but his pathetic apron. You focus on that Cross deal and make sure you are ready for your big day tomorrow, okay? I’ll handle the rest.”

Vanessa nodded, though Lisa couldn’t see it. “Make it quick. I want him gone.” She hung up, her eyes darting to the photo on the mantle — her, Adrian, Aria. She quickly turned away, her chest tight. She wasn’t the bad guy here. She was the one building something, while Adrian played house-husband. She was the man and he was the… nany? Househelp? Maybe both.

Upstairs, Adrian slipped into Aria’s room, the glow of her nightlight casting little stars across the ceiling. Her small form was curled under the blanket, but her eyes were open, wide and wet. “Daddy?” she whispered, her feeble voice trembling. “I heard Mommy yelling. And… and.. stuff breaking. Mommy said she regrets marrying you.”

Adrian’s heart cracked as he heard his pretty little baby say those words. He knelt by her bed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I’m so sorry, pumpkin. I didn’t mean for you to hear all of that.”

Aria sat up, clutching her stuffed bunny. “Mommy doesn’t love me, does she? She’s always gone, and she is mean to me. But you’re here. You’re always here.” Her voice was small but fierce, and it hit Adrian like a freight train.

He pulled her into a hug, her tiny frame warm against his chest. “I love you, Aria. I always will, and I will always be here for you. No matter what. Nothing else matters, okay?” His voice was steady, but inside, he was breaking. Vanessa’s words echoed — you’re my anchors, dragging me down — but Aria’s love was the only thing keeping him grounded.

Once Aria’s breathing slowed, her eyes fluttering shut, Adrian stepped into the hall. He pulled out his phone, hesitating only a second before dialing. The line picked up instantly.

“Young master!” The voice remained respectful. Although John Cross hadn’t expected Adrian to call again so late at night, he was always on standby.

If anyone else were to witness this, they would surely be shocked beyond belief—after all, he was the head of the Cross family, a dominant figure in the city. He was the kind of man who, with just a casual favor, could make someone like Vanessa feel endlessly grateful!

“Tell me what you need.”

Adrian’s voice was low, firm. “A place to stay. For me and my daughter.”

John’s breath hitched, like he was holding back tears. “Anything, young master. Anything. The family will be ready. Tomorrow, we welcome you home.”

****************

Meanwhile, back in his mansion, John Cross stood in the grand hall of the Cross estate, his hands trembling as he hung up the phone. The young master — Adrian West — had decided to show up.

All these years, the young master had only communicated with him by phone, always refusing to show his face.

Was he doing well?

John’s chest swelled, his old eyes stinging with tears. He shuffled to the ancient brass bell mounted on the wall, its surface polished by decades of reverence. He gripped the rope, took a breath, and yanked hard.

Ding Dong!

The bell’s clang tore through the mansion like a hammer on steel. It rang twice, maybe three times — hard enough to make the chandeliers sway and the glass in the tall windows vibrate.

Doors banged open along the hall. People began to spill out in half-dressed confusion — a cook in an apron with flour on her hands, one of the gardeners still in muddy boots, a pair of the younger cousins blinking like they’d been dragged out of sleep. Advisors shuffled in too, murmuring to each other.

Nobody could remember the last time that bell had been rung. Most news these days came by text or through John’s personal assistant.

Ethan pushed his way forward, phone still lit in his hand, tie hanging loose around his neck. “Grandfather? What’s going on? It’s…” he glanced at the phone, “...past midnight.”

John stood at the far end of the corridor, leaning on his cane like he’d been waiting for them all to gather. His face gave away nothing, but when he spoke, his voice carried right to the back.

“An important person,” he said, slow and deliberate, “is coming home. Tomorrow, we go to him. All of us. To welcome him.”

The words rolled through the group like a spark through dry leaves. Whispers broke out, unsure of who John was referring to.

“Um.. Grandfather, who is this 'Important person'? This is the first time you speak of him. Is he some sort of…”

“He is the most important man in this family. His family and the Cross’ have a long-lasting, unseverable relationship.” John Cross cut him. “More details will be disclosed soon. I will make a personal introduction when you all meet him. Tomorrow, we welcome him.” John ended.

Ethan frowned. “Tomorrow? But…” He hesitated, glancing at one of the uncles. “The contract with Vanessa Lang… it’s set to be signed. It’s worth millions. Besides, how do we know that this… ‘important’ man would be worth attending to over Vanessa Lang?”

Almost instantly, John’s eyes darkened, his jaw tightening like a vice. “Do you hear yourself, child? Millions?” he spat, the word venom. “Vanessa Lang is nothing. An insignificant speck of dust. He is everything. I value family more than anything. Therefore, tonight, anyone who chooses her contract over him…” He paused, scanning the room, his gaze cutting through every soul. “….is no longer a Cross. You’re out. Exiled. Done!”

The hall went silent, the weight of his words sinking in. Ethan swallowed, his phone slipping back into his pocket. 

Watching John’s departing figure, some people frowned and whispered, “Has he perhaps grown senile…?”

********

Morning came too fast, the sun slicing through the curtains. Vanessa was already up, her heels clicking as she grabbed her briefcase. She didn’t take care of the mess in the dining room, didn’t even glance at Adrian. 

“I’m heading out,” she said, her voice clipped, backing him. “It’s my big day. Cross family contract. Lisa’s coming over to deal with… you know.”

Adrian said nothing; he just watched her go. The door slammed, and the house felt emptier than ever. Adrian had to clean up her mess. Not because he needed to, or because he was having an undesirable guest. He only did it to keep his little girl safe from harm and injury. 

Lisa arrived an hour later, her designer suit as sharp as her smirk. She held a manila folder like a weapon, tossing it onto the coffee table. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Adrian. Trying to cash out on Vanessa’s success, huh? Not on my watch.” She leaned forward, her eyes glinting. “I’ve got a divorce agreement that’ll leave you with nothing, not a single penny. Sign it, and maybe you’ll keep some dignity.”

Adrian sat on the couch, his hands folded, calm as stone –cold stone. Then, he turned to Lisa, looking her dead in the eye. “I don’t want her money, Lisa. All I want is custody of Aria, my daughter.”

Lisa was shocked. She blinked, caught off guard. Then she laughed, a short, mocking bark. “Custody? Custody? You? A house husband with no job, no prospects?” She leaned back, smirking like she’d just won the lottery. This was easier than she had expected. She slid the divorce papers closer, the pen glinting under the morning light. 

“Well, great! Sign it. Let’s make this quick.”

Adrian’s eyes didn’t waver. He grabbed the pen, his grip steady, and scrawled his name — Adrian West, no hint of the man owned the world. 

“Done,” he said, voice like ice, pushing the papers back.

Lisa snatched them, her laugh sharp and mocking. “Oh, I never knew you had such good handwriting.” Then she turned to him. “Tell me, Adrian. You have no money, no job, no single penny in your leaking pocket. How the fuck are you gonna afford that kid’s shoes, let alone her future? Huh? Tell me, loser!”

“Answer me, thief. I’m waiting!”