Chapter 3 Then Let’s Get a Divorce
At that moment, a cold gaze fell on her, and Waverly immediately turned to look.
Beckham’s tall, commanding figure entered the room. As he walked in, he casually unbuttoned his shirt, the motion effortless yet exuding an inherent air of elegance and authority.
His sharp, chiseled features stood out, defined by a strong bone structure and thick, dark brows. Beneath them, his eyes carried a trace of cold detachment. His thin lips were pressed into a faint line, his demeanor distant and aloof.
Waverly slowly sat up, maintaining her amnesia persona. “You’re my husband. Why did you say that we’re just friends?”
Beckham paused mid-motion, his hand lingering on his shirt button. His cold eyes swept over her. “Because my marriage has no love.”
Waverly pressed further. “Then why did we get married?”
Beckham replied bluntly, “It was an accident.”
Under the covers, Waverly’s hand gripped the bed sheet tightly. “And the child… Is he ours?”
Beckham’s expression showed a hint of impatience. “That was also an accident. Don’t overthink it.”
“Perfect. Just perfect,” Waverly thought.
It turned out that their five-year marriage was nothing more than a series of accidents to him.
Waverly felt a mix of pain and mockery in her heart. She lowered her gaze slightly, her delicate, pale face furrowing in confusion. “If that’s the case, we don’t seem happy together. I don’t like you, and you don’t like me. So, let’s get a divorce.”
With that, she lifted her gaze to meet Beckham’s. She thought he would agree. After all, his first love was back. She was sure that he would want to marry her instead.
Naturally, Waverly would step aside.
Then she thought about Arthur. The image of her son’s face, which was so much like Beckham’s, flashed across her mind, and her chest tightened.
Waverly suppressed the discomfort in her heart and waited for Beckham’s response. But the answer she was expecting never came.
Beckham’s voice was cold as he said, “Even though our marriage was arranged, we’ve lived peacefully for five years. There’s no need for a divorce.”
Waverly nearly let out a sarcastic laugh. She couldn’t believe he’d rejected the idea of divorce. What about his first love?
But she held back. She kept her expression blank and said, “But I don’t like you. I don’t even know you. How could we be happy living like this?”
Beckham’s expression instantly darkened.
He strode toward her without warning, pushing her down onto the bed. Leaning over her, he lowered his head, his intentions clear.
Waverly immediately covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes widening in alarm. “What are you doing?”
Beckham frowned slightly. “Showing you how harmonious our marriage is.”
Waverly could barely keep up her act. She couldn’t believe this man. How shameless could he be?
He called her a friend and claimed they had no feelings for each other, yet he wanted to do something so intimate. She thought it was utterly ridiculous.
Was she nothing more than a tool for his physical needs to him?
Ignoring the sharp ache in her heart, Waverly shook her head firmly. “No. This kind of thing can only happen with someone I love. I don’t love you, so you can’t do this.”
Beckham’s frustration grew, his chest tightening with irritation. His voice turned even colder, and his eyes, usually so mesmerizing, were now devoid of any warmth as they bore into her.
In contrast, Waverly’s clear eyes filled with fear. She shrank back, trying to avoid him.
Beckham’s inexplicable annoyance surged. He stood abruptly and left the room in large strides.
The bedroom door slammed shut behind him, and Waverly exhaled a long, shaky breath.
