Page 113 of The Wreckage Of Us
For the first time in years, a crack of light slices through the dark.
I hang up, staring into the night, pulse thundering.
Brittany is here.
There’s a way out.
And maybe, just maybe —
I can still fight for her.
Chapter 44
Ace
The elevator doors slid open with a faint ding, and I stepped into the sleek, glass-paneled office. My heart was thudding in my chest—not from nerves, but from the anticipation clawing atme like a caged animal finally seeing the gate swing open. I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply as I approached Mr. Delgado’s office.
“Ace, come in,” my lawyer greeted, rising from his chair.
I took a seat across from him, my fingers tapping restlessly on the leather armrest. “Tell me you’ve got good news.”
He offered a tight smile, pulling out a thick folder and opening it. “It took some digging, but we found it—a loophole. The prenup your father drafted didn’t account for mutual coercion. Both you and Sierra were under duress when signing. That invalidates the contract. You’re no longer bound to the conditions tied to the marriage.”
I leaned forward, gripping the edge of his desk. “You’re sure?” My voice came out low, hoarse.
He nodded firmly. “I’m sure. I’ll prepare the papers for filing.”
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. I stared past him at the framed certificates on the wall, my mind flooded with memories of Brittany. Her laughter, her eyes glistening when she was passionate about something, the way she used to pull me back when I drifted too far into my own head. Five years. Five goddamn years. And now—
I shot to my feet. “Thank you, Miguel. You’ve no idea what this means.”
He gave me a knowing look. “I think I do.”
I drove home like a man possessed. The streets blurred past, the city lights turning into smears of gold and white. My hands clenched the steering wheel, heart racing ahead of me.
At home, the house was quiet—too quiet. Sierra was in the living room, curled on the couch with a blanket draped over her shoulders, her eyes tired but alert when I walked in.
“Ace,” she murmured, setting down her cup of tea. “You’re back early.”
I dropped onto the armchair across from her, my elbows on my knees. I watched her carefully—the girl I once knew, the girl I thought I could save, the girl I ultimately couldn’t love the way she needed.
“Sierra, we need to talk.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I figured.”
“There’s… been a development.” My fingers twisted together. “The prenup. The contract. Miguel found a loophole. We can dissolve the marriage.”
She closed her eyes, a single tear slipping down her cheek. “So that’s it?”
“Sierra, you know we tried,” I whispered. My throat felt raw. “We tried for Karla. We tried for us. But we both know this isn’t a marriage—it’s a prison.”
Her shoulders shook as she laughed, bitter and broken. “I know… I know, Ace. But do you know what’s worse than a broken marriage? A broken home. For Karla.”
My chest caved in at the sound of our daughter’s name.
“I don’t want her growing up watching two people who can’t even share a real kiss,” Sierra continued, her voice trembling. “But… I’m scared, Ace. I’m scared of what this will do to her. I don’t want her to think she wasn’t enough to keep us together.”
I crossed the room, kneeling in front of her. “Hey.” My hands gently wrapped around hers. “Karla will always be our priority. Always. But we can’t keep pretending, Sierra. She’s smart, she senses the tension. She deserves to see what love really looks like—not… this.”
