Chapter 10 - THE DIVORCE PAPERS HE SIGNED FOR LOVE
Three weeks later, Bradley Harrington was indicted on twenty-eight federal counts.
Attempted murder.
Wire fraud.
Conspiracy.
Obstruction.
Corporate theft.
Witness intimidation.
Marcus Lowell accepted a plea agreement that still guaranteed years in federal prison.
Lydia Ames cooperated.
Two former security employees were arrested.
Harrington Global’s board formally reinstated Christopher as chairman, though he appointed an interim chief executive while he continued rehabilitation.
Everything that had been broken seemed to be moving toward justice.
Except Madeline’s marriage.
The annulment papers sat on the library table.
Christopher had already signed.
Madeline stared at his signature.
Christopher Harrington.
Strong.
Deliberate.
Different from the one Bradley forged.
He had recovered enough control in his right hand to sign his own name.
She should have been happy for him.
Instead she wanted to throw the papers into the fireplace.
Rachel Stein sat across from her.
“You don’t have to sign today.”
“Christopher thinks I should.”
“Christopher thinks a lot of things.”
Madeline looked up.
Rachel smiled.
“I’m his attorney, not his priest.”
“Why is he doing this?”
“You know why.”
“He says I deserve a choice.”
“You do.”
“That’s annoying.”
Rachel laughed.
“Choice often is.”
Madeline looked toward the windows.
Christopher was outside with his physical therapist.
He could walk without a cane for short distances now.
Every afternoon she watched him go farther.
Ten steps.
Twenty.
Across the terrace.
Down the garden path.
He was rebuilding himself inch by inch.
Madeline wondered whether he had already decided she belonged to the part of his life he needed to leave behind.
“I’m not signing today,” she said.
Rachel closed the folder.
“Then don’t.”
Madeline moved temporarily into a townhouse Abigail owned in Manhattan.
Christopher did not stop her.
That hurt too.
He sent no dramatic flowers.
No billionaire gestures.
No private jets.
He texted once.
I hope you’re safe.
Madeline stared at the message for ten minutes before answering.
I am.
Nothing else.
She wanted him to fight.
Then became angry at herself for wanting a man to ignore the very freedom she had demanded from everyone else.
So Madeline tried to build a life.
She reopened her mother’s accounting files.
With Christopher’s encouragement, federal investigators created a restitution fund for companies and employees harmed by the Harrington fraud.
Madeline joined the independent oversight committee.
She also returned to school to finish the forensic-accounting certification she abandoned during her mother’s illness.
Daniel entered a residential gambling-addiction program.
He pleaded guilty to obstruction and conspiracy-related charges under a cooperation agreement.
Madeline visited once.
He did not ask her to forgive him.
He told her about therapy.
About Claire.
About all the ways shame had become an excuse.
Madeline listened.
When she left, she hugged him.
Not because everything was repaired.
Because repair had finally begun.
Christopher, meanwhile, became infuriatingly respectful.
He never pressured her.
Never asked about the papers.
Never appeared unexpectedly.
Then Abigail called.
“Christopher is an idiot.”
Madeline almost dropped the phone.
“Good afternoon to you too.”
“I am eighty-one. I don’t have time for polite openings.”
“What did he do?”
“He intends to leave for Switzerland.”
Madeline stood.
“What?”
“Rehabilitation.”
“For how long?”
“Three months.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
Madeline’s chest tightened.
“He didn’t tell me.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because, as previously stated, he is an idiot.”
Madeline closed her eyes.
“Abigail.”
“He thinks you haven’t signed because you’re afraid of hurting him.”
Madeline stared at the wall.
“What?”
“He thinks you want the annulment but feel guilty because he recovered.”
“That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard.”
“Yes.”
“Why would he think that?”
“Because you moved out.”
“He told me to choose.”
“And you chose a separate address.”
“He signed the papers first!”
“Christopher has always been brilliant with acquisitions and profoundly stupid with emotions.”
Madeline grabbed her coat.
The Harrington estate looked different when she returned.
Not because the building had changed.
Because she had.
The first time Madeline entered those doors, she had been a purchased bride.
Now she walked in because she chose to.
Christopher was in his father’s old study.
Two suitcases stood by the desk.
He looked stunned when she entered.
“Madeline.”
“Switzerland?”
He blinked.
“Grandmother.”
“Yes. Your grandmother.”
“I was going to tell you.”
“When? From the airport?”
“I thought you wanted space.”
“I wanted choice.”
“I gave you choice.”
“You gave me annulment papers.”
Christopher stared.
“Because you never agreed to marry me.”
“Neither did you.”
“Exactly.”
Madeline stepped closer.
“So what?”
His expression tightened.
“So I don’t want the most important relationship of my life to exist because your father was desperate and my grandmother was terrified of a trust clause.”
Her anger vanished.
“The most important relationship of your life?”
Christopher realized what he had said.
Madeline waited.
He looked away.
“Christopher.”
“I heard you.”
“What?”
“In the coma.”
“I know.”
“No. You don’t.”
He sat slowly.
“Do you know what nine months feels like when you can hear people discussing whether to turn off machines but you can’t move your finger?”
Madeline’s eyes filled.
“People came into my room and talked about stock prices.”
His voice cracked slightly.
“Bradley discussed my company. Lowell discussed my medication. Grandmother told me to fight.”
Christopher looked at Madeline.
“Then one afternoon, a woman I didn’t know sat outside my hospital room and read a terrible mystery novel to someone she thought was unconscious.”
Madeline laughed through tears.
“It was not terrible.”
“The murderer was obvious by chapter four.”
“You were in a coma. Your literary criticism doesn’t count.”
Christopher smiled.
Then became serious.
“You came back three times.”
Madeline remembered volunteering at the hospital.
She had read in several rooms.
She never knew his name.
“You talked to me.”
Christopher stood.
“You didn’t talk about Harrington Global. You complained about parking. You told me your coffee tasted like burnt tires. You read books. You talked about your mother.”
Madeline could no longer stop the tears.
“I waited for your voice.”
He stepped closer.
“Then it disappeared.”
Her volunteer program ended when funding was cut.
Christopher continued.
“Eight months later, I heard it again.”
“The wedding.”
“Yes.”
His mouth curved faintly.
“You were furious.”
“I was.”
“You called the marriage a prison sentence.”
“I had a difficult morning.”
“I knew your voice before I knew your name.”
Silence stretched between them.
Madeline whispered, “Then why are you letting me go?”
Christopher’s eyes met hers.
“Because loving your voice doesn’t give me the right to own your life.”
There it was.
The word.
Loving.
Madeline’s heart pounded.
“You love me?”
He laughed softly.
“Apparently near-death experiences destroy subtlety.”
“Christopher.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“That is a terrible answer.”
“Probably before I opened my eyes.”
Madeline stepped closer until barely a foot separated them.
“Do you want me to sign the annulment?”
His face changed.
“No.”
“Do you want me to stay?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you say that?”
“Because I wanted you to be free.”
Madeline reached into her purse.
Christopher’s expression fell when he saw the legal envelope.
She removed the annulment papers.
He looked away.
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t.”
Madeline tore them in half.
Christopher stared.
Then she tore them again.
And again.
Pieces fell onto the carpet.
“Madeline.”
“Our first wedding was your grandmother’s idea.”
“Yes.”
“My father accepted money.”
“Yes.”
“You were unconscious.”
“Mostly.”
“There was no kiss.”
“No.”
“The flowers were awful.”
Christopher blinked.
“They were imported lilies.”
“I hate lilies.”
“Noted.”
Madeline stepped closer.
“So I have a proposal.”
His eyes warmed.
“I’m listening.”
“We end this marriage properly.”
His face fell again.
Then she smiled.
“And if you still want me after the annulment is official, you ask me out.”
Christopher stared.
“You want to divorce me so I can date you?”
“Annul.”
“Madeline.”
“I want a first date.”
He started laughing.
“A real one.”
“Fine.”
“I want you to pick me up.”
“I own helicopters.”
“A car, Christopher.”
“Fine.”
“And no board members.”
“I wasn’t planning to invite any.”
“No attorneys.”
“Agreed.”
“No contracts.”
He looked at her.
“Agreed.”
“And if eventually you decide you want to marry me…”
Christopher stepped close enough that she could feel his breath.
“Yes?”
“You ask.”
His voice became soft.
“I will.”
Then he kissed her.
No chapel.
No trust.
No witnesses.
No unconscious groom.
This time, both of them chose it.
One month later, their annulment was finalized.
Christopher called Madeline that evening.
“Are you free Friday?”
She smiled.
“Why?”
“I’d like to take you to dinner.”
“Are you asking me on a date, Mr. Harrington?”
“I’ve been informed that is the procedure.”
“By whom?”
“My grandmother.”
“That explains why you sound like you’re negotiating a merger.”
He laughed.
“Friday at seven?”
“Seven-thirty.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m already establishing boundaries.”
“Seven-thirty.”
Madeline smiled.
“I’ll see you then.”
After ending the call, she looked down at her bare left hand.
For the first time since entering Harrington House, she had no ring.
No legal obligation.
No contract.
No debt tying her to Christopher.
Nothing forcing them together.
Which was exactly why, when the doorbell rang Friday evening and she saw Christopher standing outside with a nervous smile and a bouquet of wildflowers instead of lilies, Madeline knew she was in trouble.
Because she was falling in love with her former husband.
May you like
And this time, there was no contract to blame.
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