_OceanofPDF

Enthusiastic even. That was what the drumming fingers were about. He
wasn’t nervous or impatient. He was excited.
There would be no halfway.
He was already gone.
“Just one correction to initial.” The lawyer in the lavender suit slid the
pages across to my counsel. “Then we’re good to go.”
“Logan,” I said.
“Ella?”
“I just want you to know—”
“This isn’t the divorce agreement,” my lawyer sniped.
“I want him to know…” I snarled at him before turning back to my
husband. “That it was never you. I think, under different circumstances,
with different expectations… we could have been happy.”
He nodded. No words. No change in his expression. Not even a whiff of
agreement.
Just a nod to recognize that he heard me loud and clear.
I willed myself not to cry, because fuck him and his control. If he could
shut off his emotions like a faucet, I wouldn’t let my tears flow like one.
“What is this?” my lawyer said, flipping through.
“My client wants this revised first,” she replied.
“This?” He held up the pages. “It’s the initial contract.”
“Yes.” She slid a pen across to me. “Just initial.”
I leaned over to look at the document. It was our initial deal, with
redlines we scratched over terms in Bianca’s office a million years ago. I
took the contract from my lawyer, looking for something significantly
different.
I found it.
Children resulting from this union will be named Crowne.
Next to the red to be decided he’d written on our wedding day was a
new line, in black and initialed, which amended the line to:
Children resulting from this union will be named Crowne-Papillion
“I don’t understand,” I said.