Divorce Is a Stretch, Don't You Think?

I wasn't in the mood to talk to Cameron, so I used the restroom as an excuse to leave.

He followed me. "I've explained this already—the house was something I promised her long ago. Don't make me come off as heartless. Sylvie, I've treated you well, too."

I hummed in reply and walked right into the ladies' room.

When I returned, Rowena had taken my spot, sitting beside Cameron and practically glued to him. I glanced at them and sat beside Brandon.

Rowena spotted me and said dramatically, "Oh my gosh, sorry! I'm just so used to sitting with Cameron. You don't mind, do you?"

I shook my head. "Honestly, I'm grateful you're putting up with him for me."

Cameron's face immediately darkened.

Rowena dug her nails into her palms, barely holding up her smile. "Cameron's a great guy. He bought me that house, which is worth tens of millions. I didn't spend a dime! Guess I should be thanking you for letting your husband spend so much on me."

Her words had everyone around us gasping

Rowena had been Cameron's girlfriend for eight years, while I was his wife.

Everyone knew about the tangled relationships between us. They knew how Rowena got her new house, but they kept their heads down and never mentioned it.

Brandon sighed and got up to smooth things over. "Alright, chill. Sylvie the Stunner, you're first! Dance, sing, swim—what's your choice?"

He paused, pointed to a big ice bucket about three feet tall, and said, "We're each taking a turn. Whoever does the worst gets a punishment."

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my abdomen.

I was about to pick singing when Rowena jumped in, "Come on, it has to be dancing! We're here to have fun. Who's holding back?"

The pain got worse, and I said, "I'm not feeling well. I'll sing, or you guys can go first."

Cameron shot me a look, his face hardening. "What's that supposed to mean? Are you still throwing a fit? I gave you a way out and invited you to hang out, but now you're acting stuck-up again?"

Rowena shot a pointed glance at my abdomen and signaled the DJ to crank up a thumping track. She went wild with her dance. Then, she came over and yanked me up.

I fought to keep my temper in check and said, "I told you, I'm not feeling well. Go on without me. I'll sit this one out."

Rowena glanced at Cameron, giggled, and tried to pull me up again.

Frustrated, I pulled my hand back, and it ended up shoving her a little. She stumbled back, slipped, and crashed to the deck, letting out a painful yell.

Everything went silent, even the music stopped.

Cameron's face darkened with anger. He stepped toward me and slammed his wine glass onto the deck.

"Sylvie, what the hell's going on with you? Rowena danced first and invited you to join. She was trying to make peace, and you just shoved her! You're plain evil!"

Rowena pressed herself into Cameron's arms, sobbing with her head down.

I shot him a cold stare and smirked. "Trying to make peace? She's forcing me, isn't she? I said I'm not feeling well. Are you both deaf or something?"

Rowena's sobs grew louder.

Cameron's heart ached as he wiped her tears away. Then, he turned to me, his eyes cold and threatening.

"So, you're being difficult, huh? Since you're not playing along, get ready for the punishment!" He yanked me off the couch and shoved me onto the deck.

I felt a sudden warm rush flooding out of me. I struggled to rise, but Cameron stomped his foot on me.

Then, he grabbed the huge ice bucket—about three feet tall and a foot and a half wide—and emptied it all over me.

Heavy chunks of ice rained down, scraping my skin and numbing my scalp as they hit. My vision was blurred with tears as I tried to dodge the ice, but his foot was on me, and he pressed down harder.

It felt like forever before the ice finally stopped. Every inch of me was numb and sore. The sharp pain in my abdomen almost knocked me out.

Cameron held Rowena as she kept crying. He bent down to comfort her. "There, I've taken care of her. If she doesn't apologize later, I'll immediately—"

I pushed myself to my feet and interrupted him sharply, "You want a divorce, right? Fine! Let's get one and be done with each other for good!"

He looked at me, his eyes briefly flashing with shock.

I dragged myself forward, each step a struggle against the pain. Everyone stared as blood started running down my thighs.

Before everything went dark, I heard a waiter yell, "She's bleeding! Someone help! Oh God, there's so much blood. Is it possible she had a miscarriage?"