Chapter 1
“Sebastian, I miss you so much~” The sugary voice on the phone dripped with coquetry. Eleanor Knight pushed the prenup agreement across the table with an impassive expression.
“Sebastian Sinclair, we’re getting a divorce.”
Her voice was soft, yet it sliced through the thick air like a sharp blade.
Sebastian didn’t even glance up. His long fingers scrawled his signature across the last page of the document with practiced ease, as if signing a check.
“Sweetheart, I’ll be right there,” he murmured into the phone before hanging up and tossing the file onto the coffee table. “What is it this time, Babe? Another penthouse?”
Eleanor stared at his indifferent profile and suddenly found it laughable.
In his eyes, she would always resort to buying property to vent her emotions.
“It’s a divorce agreement,” she enunciated slowly.
Sebastian’s hands paused on his tie before he chuckled. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m in a hurry. Isabella Whitlock is throwing a tantrum—I need to go smooth things over.”
He turned to leave but glanced back as if remembering something. “Oh, and next week’s my mother’s birthday. Don’t forget a gift.”
The moment the door clicked shut, Eleanor finally laughed.
How ironic.
The boy who once set off fireworks for her couldn’t even be bothered to hear her out now.
She remembered the day they met—Sebastian, drunk and slumped outside a bar, and her offering him a bottle of water. When he looked up, his eyes had sparkled like starlight.
“I’m Sebastian Sinclair,” he’d said with a grin. “You’re beautiful.”
Later, the whole city knew the infamous playboy had fallen for Eleanor Knight. He quit partying, gave up smoking, and even stayed up all night massaging her stomach during her cramps.
At their wedding, his eyes had been red-rimmed as he vowed, “Babe, you’re the only one for me.”
But promises faded faster than echoes.
By the third month of their marriage, Sebastian stopped coming home. At first, he made excuses. Eventually, he couldn’t even be bothered to lie.
“Eleanor, don’t be so dramatic,” he’d muttered, loosening his tie. “It’s just harmless fun.”
Then she saw him at a hotel, his arm wrapped around a model’s waist.
That night, she stood in the pouring rain, crying like a madwoman. Sebastian had only frowned. “You’re exhausting me.”
Then she met Lucas Chase.
The boy who stayed up all night when she had a fever. The one who always smiled and said, “Just be happy, Babe.”
“Divorce him,” the young man had whispered, cradling her hands with eyes as clear as fresh snow. “I want to love you openly.”
Now, staring at the signed prenup on the table, Eleanor felt nothing but relief.
