Resent, Reject, Regret

Chapter 5 The Divorce Agreement

and tell your entire family!” Brendan immediately held her in a chokehold, fury blazing in his black eyes. “How dare you threaten me, McKinnon!” Deirdre forced herself to ignore the sting in her heart and closed her eyes. “No. I just want you to know that I’m digging my heels in for my child.” “F*ck! F*cking noble, are you?!” he jeered as he released her from his grip. He looked at her with pure, ugly disgust. “Fine. I’ll let it live. But mark my words, Deirdre McKinnon—if you break any of the goddamned rules, I’ll make both you and your kid wish you were in hell instead!” He signed the papers and slapped them on Deirdre’s face. The poor woman tried to pick them up, but the pain on her hand stopped her for a little bit. “What now, drama queen?” Brendan snarled. “Casting for a new excuse not to sign?” “No.” She lowered her head, suffered through the pain silently, and signed the papers quickly. It was a brief moment, but Brendan caught sight of her sore, blistered hand. It looked really bad, and for that millisecond, he realized she had not been acting at all.  That moment of sympathy passed, though. He told himself she deserved it for trying to harm his beloved. “Pack all your things today and get the hell out of here as soon as you’re done!” he barked. “If you’re thinking about causing a scene or pulling any new tricks? F*cking don’t. Steven will be watching you until he makes sure you’re out of this country!” Deirdre nodded, and Brendan practically sprung out of the hall with the agreement in his hand. He could not wait to have Steven process it. His excitement at the prospect of their divorce was all over his face. Deirdre laughed mirthlessly and went to her room. It was time to pack, but she had never really had any possessions. The only thing she’d had when she had become Mrs. Brighthall was love—a foolish infatuation more than anything else. She had very few things in her possession. After rummaging through her room, the only things she put in her suitcase were two outfits. Smiling self-deprecatingly to herself once more, she pushed open the door, ready to bid this life farewell. Then, she remembered. Her phone wasn’t with her. Had she dropped it back in Charlene’s room while being forced to donate her blood? She left her suitcase and headed to the second floor. Just before she opened the door, however, she heard Charlene talking. Her hand froze, her fingertips resting on the metallic knob. “I don’t know how Brendan found her, but I swear, it was way too f*cking close! Like, thank God he didn’t find out anything in the past two years, girl. I’m telling you—he could have found out about my facial surgeries six years back!” Facial surgeries? Charlene had had surgeries before? “Took me some tricks, but I got her *ss kicked out of the house as soon as I could. The last thing I want is for Brendan to realize that I wasn’t the one who saved him from the fire. Brendan is nice and all, but that other side of him? God, he’d put me through hell if he knew! “I am done. Like, so done with the sh*t I had to suffer, the hoops I had to jump through—I am done!… He was holding her f*cking hand, f*cking blabbering about marrying her and making her his wife back then, okay?! And I just—no. F*ck her, f*ck no. That’s why I had them cut my face up and make it look like hers. He has to believe that I’m the one who saved him, not that b*tch who came out of nowhere! “Do you know how much I’ve sacrificed for this? I lost my real face over it! And now, this is the last hoop I have to jump through. It’s all or f*cking nothing! I’m not letting Deirdre-f*cking-McKinnon steal what’s supposed to be mine!… Yeah, don’t just sit there! You want money? Get your *ss moving and finish that b*tch once and for all! She’s pregnant with his child, for god’s sake! She is not leaving this city with that thing still inside of her! I won’t allow it!” Deirdre’s eyes widened in disbelief. All this time, she had thought Brendan had simply forgotten the promise he had made to her in his post-rescue delirium. She had thought he had simply realized he had fallen in love with Charlene after all. But the truth was that she had stolen Deirdre’s rightful place from her! The shock made her mind go blank. She stumbled backward and crashed onto the railing behind her. “Who the f—?” Charlene swung the door open and found herself staring at Deirdre. She froze before willing herself to recover and demand, “You didn’t hear anything, did you? I was just horsing around with my friend. It wasn’t real!” Deirdre glared daggers at her, and her lips were trembling. “How… How dare you?! How dare you! That thing between you and Brendan isn’t true love at all! You went through multiple surgeries to look like me so he would think you’re the one who saved him six years ago!” Deirdre had believed she was the impostor for two years! Two years! Charlene panicked. “No, you misunderstood! I love him! Our love is real!” “How about you try to convince him yourself?! Because I’m telling him the truth!” Deirdre roared. Her blood was boiling. She started toward the stairs, her footsteps quickened by adrenaline. Charlene sprung up and gave chase. As Deirdre was nearing the end of the stairs, Charlene’s desperation morphed into an ugly thought. Her eyes hardened, and she shoved the former with all her might. “Ahhhh!” Deirdre felt her weight pulling her forward. She instinctively covered her abdomen with her hands, but the rest of her body answered gravity’s call and plummeted. Her head slammed on the cold, hard floor at full impact, and pain temporarily blinded her. For a while, her body refused to move. She watched Charlene descend the stairs steadily before glowering at her. “Can’t you just be happy living out the rest of your stupid life in the slums? Why the f*ck did you have to steal Brendan from me? Stupid b*tch. You really think he’ll believe you if you tell him the ‘truth’? Get real, sweetie. To him, you’re just a clingy, delusional c*nt who doesn’t know