The Day Silence Spoke novel Chapter 51

In that single minute, a lifetime of memories flashed through her mind. Clifford’s neglect, his coldness, his indifference. But also his moments of warmth, the times he had ruffled her hair and smiled at her. Viewed through the lens of his lack of love, the neglect and indifference all made perfect sense.

And for that very reason, her hand steadied. She lowered the pen to the paper and began to write her name, stroke by careful stroke.

She had to let him go, let him be with the one he loved. She also had to let herself go—release her own greed, her own unspeakable love.

She had just finished writing ‘Lati—’ when the pen slipped from her grasp, dragging a long, black line across the page.

In the next second, the divorce agreement was in Clifford’s hands.

“Time’s up,” he said.

Latisha stared at him, stunned. She watched as he casually tore the document in half and tossed the pieces into the trash can.

His deep eyes met hers. “You’ve lost your chance, Latisha.”

She didn't know how to react, only able to stare at him blankly, the pen still clutched in her hand.

Clifford stood up and walked over to her. He stood over her, his body blocking the light from behind, casting her in his shadow.

“Don’t ever let me see you sign those words again.”

He leaned down, bracing one hand on the sofa beside her, bringing his face so close their lips were inches apart.

She looked up at him, her long lashes trembling.

“Do you understand?” Clifford whispered.

Clifford knew she was on her period and didn’t push her too far, but he still found other ways to get what he wanted. He was not a man who denied himself pleasure.

Their two-week ultimatum ended as abruptly as it began, like a farce.

Later, lying in his arms and listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, Latisha couldn't help but feel that her insistence on a divorce must have seemed like a childish tantrum to him.

Her fingers drifted to her lower abdomen. His hand covered hers, pressing it gently against her stomach. His palm was warm, the heat seeping through her nightgown.

Latisha’s heart skipped a beat.

She turned her head, but the room was dark, and she couldn't see his face. His even breathing told her he was likely asleep. But she couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned until dawn before finally drifting into a restless slumber.

When she woke again, the space beside her was cold. She pushed herself up and saw her phone on the nightstand. She picked it up. The battery was full.