A Divorce He Regrets (Alissa Nexus) novel Chapter 80

RAINA

I didn’t even bother forcing a smile. My patience was far too thin, and my mood too sour to entertain any pretense of civility. “Hi, and bye,” I said curtly, hoping to escape without further interaction.

But of course, she grabbed my arm.

“Raina, wait,” Alex’s mother said, her tone unusually sweet, dripping with a sugary kindness I’d never heard from her before. If I didn’t know better, I might’ve believed she was trying to be genuinely pleasant. But I knew better.

Her grip on my arm tightened as she continued, her voice smooth and calculated. “You know, since you’re still married to Alex, wouldn’t it make sense to move back in with us? Or…” She tilted her head slightly, like she was about to offer me the most brilliant solution to all my problems. “Since you’re a Graham, you could always buy us a bigger property to live in. Somewhere more spacious, more elegant—something fitting for a family of our status. Or, if you really hate living with us that much, Alex could always get you a separate place. Somewhere private, where you could have all the space you need.”

My body tensed as anger bubbled under my skin. I yanked my arm away, glaring at her with a look sharp enough to cut steel. “You think I’d entertain that nonsense?” I spat, my voice cold and biting. “Alex has already been summoned to court. We’re getting a divorce. It’s bad enough I have to be tied to your family because of the kids. Never again will I be connected to you in any other way.”

Vanessa, who had been standing nearby with her usual air of smug superiority, let out a scoff. “Doesn’t matter,” she said, her tone laced with disdain. “You’ll always be beneath us. A low class, no matter what name you carry. But for the sake of the kids, maybe you should let bygones be bygones.”

Her words hit me like a slap, sharp and infuriating. My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I turned on my heel, desperate to walk away before I did something I’d regret. My breathing was shallow as I stormed out of the boutique, my pulse pounding in my ears.

By the time I reached my car, my hands were trembling with rage. I climbed in and slammed the door shut behind me, gripping the steering wheel tightly as I tried to steady myself. I couldn’t start the car—not yet. Not like this.

Instead, I sat there, taking deep, measured breaths, willing the tension to leave my body. “Focus, Raina,” I muttered to myself. “Don’t let them get to you.”

After a few minutes, the anger began to dissipate, replaced by exhaustion and a hollow ache in my chest. I needed to regroup. To find my balance again.

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