The chasm between them widened, the once close-knit hearts now adrift in a sea of growing distance.
As Freya’s door clicked shut, a wave of loss crashed over Kristian, leaving him with a poignant ache, as though he were watching a part of himself vanish into the ether.
.
.
.
He furrowed his brow deeply, and his hand moved to adjust his tie, his slender fingers looking strikingly elegant and alluring – a sight to behold.
He glanced toward the closed door twice before decisively stepping out of the villa and heading to his office.
The mystery surrounding Ashley’s car accident still loomed large, demanding further scrutiny.
Meanwhile, Freya indulged in a long, soothing shower and then drifted into a light nap, only to be jolted awake by the insistent ringing of her phone.
Across the room, Kristian’s eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze intensifying as he watched Freya, who sat across from him, perfectly poised.
He had a nagging suspicion that she was using the show’s dialogue to subtly taunt him.
“Freya,” he started, his voice a mix of resignation and resolve.
She turned to face him, her expression unreadable. “Yes?”
Kristian took a deep breath, steeling himself. “I can agree to your terms for the divorce,” he admitted reluctantly. “But before we cut all ties, I need to look into her car accident.”
“That’s acceptable,” Freya responded evenly, her indifference clear. “If you need to discuss anything with Ashley during this period, please have Gerard handle it.”
Kristian wanted to protest, to insist on handling things his way, but the thought of his family’s deep affection for Freya held him back. With a resigned sigh, he conceded, “Fine.”
“Better get moving,” Freya suggested crisply. Truth be told, she wanted the divorce more than he did and had no interest in dealing with him.
“Pick me up at six.”
“Sure,” Kristian agreed, a hint of defeat in his voice.
With their arrangement settled, Freya grabbed the remote, shut off the screen, and disappeared up the stairs.
The chasm between them widened, the once close-knit hearts now adrift in a sea of growing distance.
As Freya’s door clicked shut, a wave of loss crashed over Kristian, leaving him with a poignant ache, as though he were watching a part of himself vanish into the ether.
He furrowed his brow deeply, and his hand moved to adjust his tie, his slender fingers looking strikingly elegant and alluring – a sight to behold.
He glanced toward the closed door twice before decisively stepping out of the villa and heading to his office.
The mystery surrounding Ashley’s car accident still loomed large, demanding further scrutiny.
Meanwhile, Freya indulged in a long, soothing shower and then drifted into a light nap, only to be jolted awake by the insistent ringing of her phone.
Blinking away sleep, she noticed Frederick’s name flashing on the caller ID. She massaged her temples to clear the lingering fog of sleep and answered with a groggy, “Hello?”
“Freya! Freya! Freya!” Frederick’s voice came, bubbling with boyish enthusiasm and a tinge of urgency.
Freya pulled the phone slightly away from her ear, waiting for him to continue. After a brief pause filled with silence, she queried, “What’s going on?”
.
.
.
“Trent is on his way over to see you,” Frederick finally said, his tone now laced with a hint of seriousness.
Freya’s brow creased in confusion.
“Trent Seymour,” Frederick hurriedly added.
“Why is he coming?” Freya pressed, her curiosity piqued.
“He’s been sent by your father to manage your divorce proceedings with Kristian Shaw,” Frederick explained, his voice hesitant yet tinged with unmistakable curiosity. “Did you really secretly marry that man?”
Freya massaged her temples, her frustration building like a storm.
Frederick, oblivious to her mood, prattled on. “Freya?”
“When will he be here?” Freya’s voice wavered slightly, revealing her underlying helplessness.
“Around eleven tonight,” Frederick replied, his tone cautious. Though burning with curiosity, he dared not probe deeper. “He’s just set off for the airport.”
Freya pondered her options to thwart the impending situation. “Understood,” she muttered finally, before abruptly ending the call.
Back when she and Kristian had exchanged vows, he had never delved into her past. On holidays, he would gently ask if she wanted to visit her family, but never pressed when she declined.
Now, with Trent’s imminent arrival, she feared it would ignite Kristian’s suspicions about her past.
Frederick stared at his phone, the silence echoing his unanswered questions. His mind swirled with inquiries that begged for attention. He couldn’t hold back any longer. His fingers danced feverishly over his phone’s keyboard as he unleashed a torrent of messages. “Freya, you never confirmed if you’re truly married.”
“Why did your father mention a divorce?”
“What’s been going on with you these past two years? I need answers!”
Freya scanned the barrage of incoming messages, her brow furrowed in contemplation, before finally responding succinctly, “Yeah… things just fell apart between us.”
Jack’s jaw dropped, and all he could manage was a frantic message full of exclamation marks – barely scratching the surface of how he felt. Freya had been the woman he looked up to for as long as he could remember – and now she’d dropped the bomb that she was married!
It wasn’t just a rumor; she was truly married.
Frederick, incredulous, typed back rapidly. “Are you kidding me?”
Freya dismissed his disbelief and insisted firmly, “Keep this quiet for now. Just between you, me, and Trent; let’s not tell the others yet.”
Frederick’s reply was lost in a heavy silence.
He glanced around nervously at the curious faces peering over his shoulders, their eyes glued to his screen. Cold sweat trickled down his temple as he wrestled with the dilemma.
How could he convey to Freya that the secret was already out, that everyone huddled around his computer was now privy to her revelation?
With Frederick’s messages finally answered, Freya dialed Trent’s number, but the call refused to connect.
With the beep of a failed connection still ringing in her ears, she decided on a proactive approach. Tonight, she was scheduled to visit Kristian’s family home, and she wanted no unexpected encounters.
She tapped out a quick text to Trent. “Once you’ve arrived in Jeucwell, give me a heads-up. We can meet tomorrow.”
She felt it was wiser to manage the situation herself rather than let Trent surprise her and potentially catch her off guard.
Exhaling a weary sigh, she mulled over her predicaments. Turning down her father’s requests was one thing; dealing with Trent was an entirely different challenge.
As the clock ticked towards six, she hurriedly changed her outfit and was about to step out when Kristian’s driver called her. She answered swiftly and then rushed out to the waiting car.
To her surprise, Kristian was already inside, looking slightly worn from the day but still undeniably handsome. His suit was the same one he had worn since noon, now creased, and his hair fell carelessly over his forehead, lending him an effortlessly charming, yet somewhat untamed look.
Freya chose silence as the car glided towards the opulent family estate. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken thoughts until they neared the grand gates of his family residence.
Breaking the silence, Kristian’s voice cut through the tension, contemplative and a bit uneasy. “If my mom asks why you don’t like me, what will you say?”
Freya met his gaze and replied without flinching, “The truth.”
“Freya,” he called her name, a note of caution in his tone.
“Hmm?”
“If you bring up Ashley, my parents and grandpa will never agree to our divorce.”
Kristian’s sharply defined features hardened, his eyes shadowed with a frosty glint.
Freya regarded his sudden concern with a mix of amusement and confusion. “Who said I was going to bring her up?” she asked, her voice laced with intrigue.
Kristian hesitated, a flicker of suspicion crossing his face. “What do you mean by that?”
“I simply don’t like you,” Freya stated with disarming frankness, her tone light but cutting. “Spending time on you feels pointless – I’m just not interested.”
While her mind lingered on thoughts of Trent, Freya had little interest in dragging out a nonsense debate with Kristian.
Despite Kristian’s efforts to brush off her words as mere spur-of-the-moment anger, her earnest expression conveyed her true feelings – she genuinely disliked him now. This harsh truth gnawed at him, stirring a blend of irritation and a profound, aching feeling he couldn’t quite define.
“We’ve reached our destination,” the driver announced as he swung open the car door.
Stepping out into the crisp evening, Kristian was about to remind Freya of their facade to avoid any talk of divorce when she smoothly took his arm, her actions belying her earlier detachment. “Let’s go,” she said flatly.
Kristian was momentarily dumbstruck.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.