Facade of Love (Yvette Scott and Idris Young) novel Chapter 92

Chapter 92 He Agrees to Divorce 

Idris furrowed his brows deeply, his dark eyes fixed on me as he said, “Yvette, what exactly are you trying to say?” 

I smiled faintly and continued, “Today at the Youngs‘ Old Manor, you asked me for the real reason I wanted a divorce. At that moment, I wasn’t really sure what I felt. I always thought although we’re not the most in love, our marriage over the past two years wasn’t too bad either. At least, you’ve been quite good to me, and you’ve been a good husband and father. If I were to obstinately disregard everything you said and deem our two–year marriage a death sentence, then I’d be too rash of a person. After all, as you said, what happened between you and Moore wasn’t exactly infidelity, so you aren’t entirely at fault.” 

Some things were hard to express, but at this point, a decision had to be made. 

Looking into his deep black eyes, I took a breath and said, “But, Idris, the past few months in this marriage have been truly exhausting for me. Indeed, it seems like you’ve done nothing wrong, and you still take care of me like before. But I’m just so tired. These days, I’ve been convincing myself not to make hasty decisions and not to completely deny you. However, I no longer have any expectations for our marriage. So, Idris, I still want to divorce. This decision isn’t because of Moore’s existence, nor is it for any other reason. I just don’t want to continue. living my life with you anymore.” 

The autumn night seemed filled with a silent fear. 

He did not speak. His upright figure was wrapped in the dim street light, exuding an eerie stillness and desolation, like a god hidden in the darkness. Because of his silence, the situation seemed particularly helpless. 

“Okay,” he finally said after a long silence, his voice neither loud nor soft. 

I nodded, took a deep breath to steady my emotions, and said, “I’ll draft the divorce agreement. Don’t worry, I know my limits and won’t take anything from the Youngs.” 

Noticing his tightly clenched hands by his side, I felt an uncontrollable pang in my heart. 

He pursed his l*ps, his handsome face hidden in the dim light, so his emotions were inscrutable. His voice seemed much heavier as he asked, “The child… what do you plan to do about it?” 

The child! 

on–existent child. What else could be done? 

Having said what needed to be said, the rest seemed inconsequential. 

Looking at him, I replied, “The pregnancy isn’t far along. I’ll make time to go to the hospital.” 

The temperature in the air suddenly dropped, and I shivered involuntarily, meeting his grim black eyes. “Go to the hospital?” he echoed. 

I nodded, unconsciously tugging at my clothes, feeling intimidated by his gaze. However, I still said, “We’re both still young. You will marry and have children in the future, and so will I. If I meet the right person, I will remarry. If this child is born now, it will inevitably complicate our lives later. Since the pregnancy isn’t far along, aborting it is for the best for both of us.” 

Bang! 

Suddenly, a tall flower pot nearby shattered under his kick. Before I could react, Idris grabbed my wrist, holding me tightly, and said, “Yvette, do you view life so cheaply? To be so casually thrown away?” 

His grip was so strong that it was painful. I tried to pull away but could not. Then, frowning at him, I said, “Idris, you’re hurting me.” 

He was unmoved, his dark eyes boring into me with cold fury. 

I took a breath, meeting his gaze. “I’m not throwing away a life, but this child must be aborted.” Even if I wanted to keep it, how could I keep a non–existent. child? 

This predicament Madam Young bestowed upon me was too difficult to resolve. Over the last few days, I thought of countless solutions, but it seemed the only outcome was this, whether Idris and I continued to be together or separated. This non–existent child was too hard to deal with.