Her Divorce Lawyer Want Her novel Chapter 62

Chapter 62

In the end, he just sighed and said, “Look, violence isn’t the answer. And seriously–where’d you score that sulfuric acid You raid the chem lab or something?”

Freya flashed a sly grin. “If it had been the real deal, his windpipe would’ve been fried to a crisp by now. He’d be gagging, no howling like a stuck pig.”

“So… what was it, then?”

“Piss,” she said deadpan. “Bribed a guy from my class to hook me up. Hits that gross–out sweet spot–shocks the hell out of you without any real damage. Ideal for a slimeball with a motor mouth.”

As she headed out, she stopped and glanced back at him. “Hey, thanks, dude. You’re one of the good ones.”

Ryan had no clue why, but that line burrowed into him right then and there, lodged deep in his memory banks.

The lilt in her voice, that steely glint in her eye, the cocky little chin–tilt as she sauntered off like a pint–sized general claiming victory–he could replay it all in HD.

Fifteen years later, it was still on loop.

But some memories were his alone now. She’d scrubbed hers clean.

“Why…”

Tears started slipping out.

She must’ve hit a raw nerve in her dream–quiet sobs shaking her even in sleep, face slick with them.

He pawed through the car, hunting for napkins–nada. In the end, he peeled back the softest bit of his shirt lining and wiped the streaks from her cheeks, feather–light.

“Liam… Liam…”

His hand stalled.

He thought, ‘After all the ways he’s screwed you over, you’re still whispering his name in the dead of night?

“That deep, huh?

I crossed your path first. I fell hard first.

‘One missed shot at spilling my guts, and he’s just… camped out in there forever?

‘Bullshit.

‘How could I swallow that?‘

“Don’t–get off me! Let go, Liam! … Ryan, help-”

Freya snapped awake, heart hammering from the nightmare.

Darkness swallowed the car, broken only by a thin ribbon of moonlight.

12:42 pm P P P

Chapter 62

She was still tangled in the panic, breaths ragged, struggling to ground herself.

“Where… am I?”

Ryan kept his voice low and steady. “My place. You’re safe. No Liam in sight.”

Her whole body unclenched in a rush, tension melting away. “Oh, thank fuck.”

“What was the dream?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“…He come after you in it?”

She sagged against the seat, lids drooping, bone–tired. “Natalie was out for my blood, and Liam? He was yanking me straight into her path. Ha—”

A dry, bitter chuckle escaped her. “Talk about a joke.”

“It’s no joke,” Ryan said quietly. “Sounds like straight–up pain. Like you’re cornered.”

A flicker of her old spark returned as she met his eyes. “Deep down? I’m a total scrapper. You probably have no idea–in middle school, I laid into this jerk. One of my seniors, even. Busted him up till his face ballooned like a prize hog. Hilarious. right?”

Ryan glanced down. “I know all about it.”

Her brows shot up. “Liam spill? He wasn’t even around for it–he got the story from me way later. We weren’t a thing back then.”

But just as quick, her voice cracked, heavy with defeat. “So why’s the fighter in me gone soft? Why am I this total doormat now? Hell, even asleep, I’m just taking hits from Liam and Natalie–no backbone, nothing.”

“Dreams flip everything. You’re still that badass–in real life.”

She mustered a wry half–smile, “I’ve been chewing on this a lot lately. Marrying Liam? That’s when I started fading out. His folks couldn’t stand me, so I twisted myself into knots–prim little trophy wife, dutiful daughter–in–law, all shiny and presentable. But it was bullshit. Like I’d crammed myself into a steel trap, morphing into some lifeless puppet.”

“What about now?”

“Divorce is locked in. I’m this close to breaking free.”

She twisted toward him, searching his face. “Mr. Reed–you swore you’d see this through. No cold feet, right?”

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