When I married him, I brought a massive amount. Even that wasn’t enough to save the Dorance Industries from collapse.
I didn’t want to put too much pressure on him, so behind the scenes, I created a second identity to invest in his company.
But apparently, even just the dowry was enough for him to resent me…
I bent down, carefully gathering the ashes, tiny bit by tiny bit, and wrapped them in a white cloth I had brought with me.
Just then, a mocking snort came from behind.
“I knew it. You could never leave me.”
He must’ve thought I was only emotional when I brought up the divorce. Now that I never said it again, Cortland’s eyes gleamed with contempt.
“Still pretending to be cold? You really think that’ll make me treat you better?”
Saylor’s POV
Cortland lowered his head and gently kissed Thalia on the forehead. His voice was slow, almost mocking when he looked at me again.
“To marry me, didn’t you force Thalia to leave? Didn’t you think you were a noble, waving your father’s filthy money around like it was some divine blessing?”
He sneered. “Did you really think I’d be grateful?”
Thalia tugged lightly at his sleeve, her eyes filled with pitiful innocence. “Cortland, please don’t say that… Your wife had a hard time too.”
“Don’t call her that,” Cortland snapped, a cold huff leaving his throat. “Does she even deserve that title?”
I stayed silent, my arms tightening around the urn I held. Slowly, I rose to my feet, my steps unsteady.
Ysabella came over, her eyes filled with disdain and superiority. “Saylor, move out of the master bedroom. Thalia’s not well—she needs peace and quiet. You’re fine with the guest room, right?”
Before I could respond, she went on with her instructions. “And don’t just stand there. Go prepare her miscarriage-prevention medicine in the kitchen. She hasn’t had much appetite lately—remember to add some red dates.”
At that moment, I nearly laughed out loud.
I was Cortland’s lawful wife, the largest shareholder in this company, and the fool who once poured money into saving the Dorances from ruin.
And now?
To his mother, I was just a useless ornament—stripped of value the moment I could no longer bear children. A disposable object expected to prepare some medicine and give up my place in the bed.
I didn’t acknowledge her. I didn’t acknowledge anyone.
I just carefully wrapped the urn and walked out.