Inside the room, Bill Henson lay in the hospital bed with gauze wrapped around his forehead, looking frail and pathetic. Louise sat at his bedside, her eyes swollen to the size of walnuts from crying.
When I walked in, Ivor Sullivan's face darkened, but he said nothing. Ann shot me a look dripping with contempt and let out a heavy, derisive snort.
Bill flinched, shrinking back against Louise as if terrified. She rubbed his back soothingly.
"You wanted to see me?" I looked at Ann, my expression blank.
"You have the nerve to ask?"
Her voice spiked to a shriek. She snatched the cup from the bedside table and hurled it straight at me.
"Julian Gilbert—look at what you've done! Look what you've reduced him to! He's shaking!"
"My daughter must have been blind to marry a violent thug like you."
"Do you have any idea—Louise was so traumatized she cried the entire night!"
Ann was hysterical, unleashing a torrent of accusations without pausing for breath.
Right on cue, Louise let out a couple of pitiful sobs, the picture of a woman who'd suffered some unforgivable wrong.
"Julian," Ivor spoke up, his tone measured and righteous, "last night, you went too far. Bill grew up under our watch. He and Louise are naturally close. You had no right to attack someone without hearing them out first. That was wrong."
I stared at his self-assured face and laughed—a cold, hollow sound.
"And then what?"
"And then what?"
Ann bristled like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
"You get on your knees and apologize. You kowtow until Bill and Louise forgive you. Only then do you get to stand back up."
She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
In the past, the Sullivans had never hesitated to use my love for Louise as leverage. And for five years, I'd swallowed my pride every single time to keep the peace.
Ann was certain—absolutely certain—that I'd fold again, the way I always did.
Not this time.
"Are you finished?"
The room went still.
"Good. Because now it's my turn."
I locked eyes with Louise.
"Louise, let's get a divorce."
I slapped the agreement—the one my lawyer had drafted through the night—onto the bed in front of her.
Louise froze. The sobbing cut off mid-breath.
Ivor and Ann stared, blindsided. The word divorce coming from my mouth was something none of them had ever imagined.
Every pair of eyes in the room fixed on me in disbelief.
Every pair except one.