Mila gently closed the bedroom door behind her, then turned to her father-in-law with a worried expression. What’s going on, Conrad? Everything seemed fine before. How did things get so serious over just a few words?
Conrad shot a disapproving glance at Lysander, who trailed behind them, before addressing Mila politely. Let’s talk in the study, he suggested, leading her away from the others.
In the study, it was just Mila and Conrad. The air was tense.
You want a divorce, and I won’t stand in your way. That’s between you and Lysander, Conrad began. But we had an understanding, didn’t we? You two would handle your issues quietly, giving your mother-in-law time to adjust gradually. But what have you done instead?
Conrad’s face darkened, his tone stern. You’ve been rejecting her repeatedly. Even someone less sensitive would notice something was wrong by now.
We agreed you’d handle the divorce discreetly. But instead of easing Felicity into it, you’ve cut her off abruptly, without any warning. It’s harsh, Mila.
You know how Felicity feels about you. For seven years, she’s adored and depended on you. And now, you’re ready to walk away without a second thought, discarding her genuine care for you.
Just because things didn’t work out with Lysander doesn’t mean you should be at odds with Felicity.
Mila had no words. She realized she had been too hasty, too harsh with her mother-in-law. But it wasn’t entirely her fault; communicating with Lysander was like talking to a wall.
Seeing her silent and torn, Conrad softened and offered a compromise. How about this? Instead of coming every week like before, you could visit every two weeks, then once a month, and eventually, less frequently, until you no longer need to come at all.
That way, it won’t be too many visits, and Felicity can gradually get used to the change.
Mila considered this and agreed it made sense. I’ll make time to visit, but I can’t be here for the holidays. I have family obligations too.
But now…
Conrad’s gaze shifted to his son, Lysander, who stood awkwardly near the doorway. A surge of anger flared up inside him, and he landed a heavy punch on Lysander’s shoulder.
You fool of a son!
The study door slammed shut with a forceful bang.
Lysander stood there, bewildered, rubbing his shoulder. What had he done to deserve this today?