"What is going on here?"
The voice was calm, low, but it carries authority, one which couldn't be ignored—even if one tried.
Rebecca's hands paused mid-motion.
Cheryl stiffened in her arms.
Liam straightened immediately.
Cassie lowered her head. "Sir."
Rebecca slowly turned, and her eyes met with Anderson who was standing at the entrance of the dining room.
Hus gaze swept across the table, and his eyes narrowed.
Empty plates.
That was new. The kids never finished their meals.
He walked into the dining room, his presence imposing and commanding.
Rebecca watched him take a seat, and she recalled the conversation they had the previous night.
Her eyes dimmed. She hated to admit it... but she was undeniably hurt by his dismissal.
Rebecca didn't realize when Cheryl had left her arms till she heard chattering from across.
"Daddy, mommy prepared breakfast." Cheryl said, her eyes sparkling. "It was really delicious. And I hope mommy continues to make meals for my brother and me.
Anderson's gaze flickered to Rebecca who flashed him a smile and confusion danced in his eyes.
First, she prepared dinner for him. And now, she made breakfast for the kids.
Her moves were unpredictable. He hated that he couldn't read her.
"Rebecca," he called softly.
"Yes?"
"Can I speak with you?" He requested. "Privately." He added after a few milliseconds.
Rebecca's brows drew together as her mind filled with one question: what did he want from her?
"Fine." She agreed and rose to her feet.
"Follow me." Anderson instructed, handing Cheryl to Cassie.
Stroking her hair, he assured. "I'll be back soon." He then looked at Liam who blinked innocently. "Be good."
Liam nodded. Anderson smiled softly at the two kids before he walked out of the dining room followed by Rebecca.
When they reached Anderson's office, the door was shut with a bang, causing Rebecca to flinch.
"Why did you have to bang it so loud?" She asked, rolling her eyes at him. She was displeased with him.
"To wake you up." Anderson replied calmly while he stood at a distance from her.
Rebecca chuckled, folding her arms. She leaned on the wall while she stared at him. "What do you mean by that, Andy?"
Anderson stilled instantly.
His gaze narrowed at her. "What did you just call me?" He demanded, his eyes darkening.
"Andy." Rebecca replied. "Didn't you always like it best when I addressed you as Andy?" She probed softly, her head tilting to take a good look at him.
Anderson's palms balled into fists. He cleared his throat as he said in a cold, detached voice. "The Rebecca who always called me Andy is dead."
Rebecca's jaw dropped. She never expected him to utter such words.
"You must be joking." She chuckled in disbelief.
"Listen here, Rebecca." He started gaining her attention. "I haven't divorced you yet because of the kids. You should learn to know your place in mine or the kids' lives."
Rebecca laughed once. Then—
It became a full-blown laughter.
"My place? In your lives?"
"Andy, are you forgetting that I'm your wife and the kids' mother?"
This time, it was Anderson's turn to laugh. And he laughed unrestrainedly.
Rebecca took a deep breath as she listened to him laugh.
She constantly reminded herself.
This was her fault... although, she couldn't truly remember a thing.
"Rebecca, do you hear yourself?" He questioned after he was done laughing.
"You? A mother?"
"Ridiculous!" He spat.
"A mother would never use her kids as a leverage to help her lover." Anderson's jaw tightened as he spoke. "Rebecca, you've truly outdone yourself. Do you remember holding a knife to Liam's neck just so you could celebrate Carl's birthday?"
Rebecca's eyes widened as all the colour drained from her face.
"That's impossible." She shook her head.
"Or was it when you slapped three-year old Cheryl for accidentally ruining the love token between you and Carl?"
Rebecca immediately held her head as she shook her head. "That's impossible. I'll never do such a thing."
She kept muttering under her breath as she kept taking steps backwards.
Anderson seemed oblivious to this... or perhaps, he didn't care.
Instead, he continued listing all of Rebecca's hideous crimes.
"That's enough." She fell to her knees, crouching while still clutching her head. "That's enough. I don't want to hear anymore." She said softly, shaking her head repeatedly.
Anderson watched her and his expression turned cold.
"Don't play games with me Rebecca." He muttered softly. "My patience has finally worn out."
He walked to his desk, picked up a brown folder and walked to where she was kneeling.
"Here." He threw the folder at her. "I'm finally letting you go."
He walked out without sparing her a glance.
As his footsteps faded, the turmoil in Rebecca's heart finally reduced.
She looked at the folder which was just a few feet away from her, and she chuckled bitterly.
"What did I really do in these past years?" She asked herself, her lips trembling.
With shaky hands, she picked up the folder and opened it.
The cold words: DIVORCE stared back at her.
Her eyes trailed to the signed part, and she bit her lips.
"He signed it. Anderson really signed it." She murmured.
She sat on the floor, and inhaled deeply. "He must have tolerated a lot."
Her eyes scanned the papers, and her brows knitted.
"What do I do?" Her fingers rested on her jaw. "I have to save this sinking marriage. But how?"
Rebecca's grip on the papers tightened. For a moment, the room felt suffocatingly quiet.
Then—
She let out a slow breath.
"No," she whispered.
Her fingers slid over Anderson's signature again, her gaze hardening bit by bit.
"No… I'm not accepting this."
She pushed herself up from the floor, though her legs felt slightly weak.
"I don't remember what I did," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. "But if it's as bad as he said…"
Her voice trailed off. A flicker of pain crossed her eyes. "…then I'll fix it."
She placed the divorce papers back into the folder carefully—too carefully for someone who was supposedly being cast aside.
"This marriage definitely didn't break in a day," she continued softly. "So it won't be fixed in a day either."
Her lips curved faintly. "But I'm not walking away."
She wiped the corner of her eyes, straightened her posture, and walked toward the door.
Each step was steadier than the last.
"Anderson…" she murmured under her breath.
"You might have given up on me—" Her hand rested on the doorknob. "—but I haven't given up on us."