Chapter 18 

Thunder crashed. 

A jagged crack split the sky, and rain started pouring down in sheets, pounding the pavement and sending up shimmering sprays of water. A black Maybach tore through the storm, like a lone boat fighting waves on a wild sea. 

Inside the car, Patrick stared at his phone, his brow furrowed tight. Another call to Maisy–still 

no answer. 

Today was supposed to be the end of their divorce cooling–off period. He’d planned to meet Maisy and cancel the divorce together. But when he’d arrived at the civil affairs office, the staff told him Maisy hadn’t turned up. 

And now, every time he called, she didn’t pick up. 

At first, Patrick could come up with reasons–maybe she was busy, maybe her phone was off. But today was the day. No matter how angry she was, she should’ve shown up. Why wouldn’t 

she come? Did she not want the divorce after all? 

Suddenly, hope flickered in Patrick’s eyes. 

Yes, that had to be it. Maisy loved him. There was no way she’d really want to leave. 

If that was the case, he could just go in and cancel the papers himself. Maybe he could even surprise her with the news. 

Thinking of this, Patrick leaned forward and urged the driver, “Go faster!” 

“Yes, sir.” 

A sharp brake later, the Maybach slid to a stop outside the civil affairs office. Patrick didn’t even bother with an umbrella–he jumped out and rushed inside, rain soaking his hair and shoulders. He walked straight to the counter. “Hi, I need to cancel the divorce agreement for myself and Maisy Gilmore.” 

voice was tight, urgent. If he was even a minute late, the divorce would go through for real. 

lease wait a moment,” the staff member said, fingers flying across the keyboard. 

But in seconds, she looked up with an apologetic face. “I’m sorry, Mr. Walsh. You can’t cancel 

he divorce.” 

Patrick froze. “What do you mean?” 

He glanced at his watch. “The deadline hasn’t passed. Why can’t I cancel it?” 

She explained quickly, “According to our system, you and Ms. Gilmore are already divorced. The certificate’s already been processed.” 

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Patrick’s mind went blank. “When did we get the divorce certificate?” 

He remembered it clearly–after signing, there was supposed to be a one–month cooling–off period. Either of them could back out at any time. He’d even filed a special request: unless he personally agreed, the divorce couldn’t go through, not even after the cooling–off period. 

But now, not only had the divorce been approved, the certificate was already done. 

He shot to his feet, voice trembling with anger. “I told you–no one was to process anything without my permission! What happened?” 

The staff member looked helpless. “I’m sorry, Mr. Walsh. We really don’t know…” 

“Enough. Get your supervisor.” 

A few moments later, the department head hurried over and, after hearing Patrick out, started to explain. 

“Mr. Walsh, after you dropped off the agreement, Ms. Gilmore came in soon after. She used her special authorization and insisted we process everything right away.” 

The supervisor pulled up a security video on the computer. On screen, Maisy appeared in a long dress, calm and collected as she spoke to the clerk. The staff stamped the paperwork and handed her the divorce certificate. Seconds later, she disappeared from the camera’s view. 

Patrick watched the short clip over and over. 

It was her. No matter how many times he replayed it, the woman in the video was definitely Maisy. She’d known about his plan to stall. That’s why she came early–she’d made sure to end things before he could stop her.