Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love

"Rosemary, what's this divorce agreement all about?"

Rosemary snapped to attention when she heard Maxwell's gloomy voice on the line.

"Literally what it says."

Maxwell chuckled coldly, "Before you clock in for work, come to my office and take this piece of trash back with you. At 8 PM, I expect to see you and your luggage at the Meadowlark Retreat."

Rosemary shot back with a cold laugh of her own, "Maxwell, are you” out of his mind?

Her voice trailed off as she suddenly grasped the hidden meaning behind his phone call.

"Don't worry about Victoria getting labeled as the 'other woman'. Only our parents and a few friends know we're married. To everyone else, you're still that devoted partner who would go through thick and thin for your girlfriend's career. Now that things have turned as the way you wanted, everyone's happy for you."

If the divorce papers got out now, right after Maxwell was spotted dropping Victoria at the hospital last night, Victoria would be stamped as the homewrecker for sure.

Rosemary had barely finished her thought when she realized Maxwell had already hung up on her. That douchebag.

Her current hotel was just a stone's throw from the Templeton Group. Rosemary wasn't in a rush. She leisurely enjoyed her breakfast before taking the subway over.

After marrying Maxwell, she took up the role of his personal assistant at the Templeton Group at her mother-in-law's request.

Assistant, my foot. She was more like a caregiver. Her job was basically to handle Maxwell's meals and all the other mundane life details, the type that just coasted along collecting a paycheck.

No one at the company knew she was Maxwell's wife, the wife of the Templeton Group’s boss. It was pretty pathetic when she thought about it. Everyone knew about the mistress, but the legit wife had to sneak around like a spy; there were a couple of times when she was in Maxwell's car, she had to get out two blocks away from the office in advance.

When Rosemary got to the office, she went straight to her computer and began drafting her resignation letter. She was getting a divorce, so let someone else play his caregiver!

Someone walked by and asked surprisingly, "Assistant Chambers, you're quitting? Did that rich boyfriend of yours finally pop the question?"

Rosemary froze mid-typing. Once, she'd been seen getting out of Maxwell's car; the person was surprised and asked her if she was in Mr. Templeton’s car.

At that time, she didn’t want to let others know their relationship, so she had to lie that it belonged to her boyfriend.

The next day, rumors flew around the office about her wealthy boyfriend with a car just like Mr. Templeton's.

Nobody connected the dots to Maxwell because everyone on the thirty-sixth floor knew that Assistant Chambers' meals were always tossed, untouched, by Mr. Templeton. Only Rosemary was clueless enough to keep putting them out, meal after meal.

At that moment, Rosemary denied it, "No, we broke up."

"You really let go of such a catch? If it were me, I'd be crying my eyes out by now!" Someone sympathized, though how much of it was schadenfreude was anybody's guess.

Thinking of her “golden boyfriend”, Rosemary replied airily but with an edge, "A man whose only virtue is downright toughness, you think I should keep him for Christmas?"

"What about other aspects?"

A cough broke the awkward chatter, and everyone turned to see the man who had arrived at the office entrance, scattering in fright.

"Mr. Templeton."

The cough came from Christ, the president's assistant, who glanced at the boss beside him and said, "No personal chit-chat during work hours, especially not that kind."

Maxwell's gaze swept over everyone, finally resting on Rosemary with a deep and heavy look, "Assistant Chambers, to my office. And everyone involved in this chat, a hundred bucks off your paycheck. Go sign the penalty form at finance."

The crowd dispersed in an instant, but Rosemary kept typing, unfazed.

Maxwell's office was minimalistic. When Rosemary walked in, he was lazily flipping through a document - it was the divorce agreement she had sent to the house that morning.

Rosemary stood firm in front of his desk, "Mr. Templeton."

He looked up, his face expressionless but his voice growing increasingly ominous, "Toughness is the only virtue; where did you come up with such a theory, Assistant Chambers?"

Rosemary pressed her lips and played dead. She'd have to be kicked in the head to go along with that line of questioning.

After a tense few seconds, Maxwell dropped the subject. He tossed the divorce agreement onto the desk, "Explain this to me, what's the meaning behind the reason for divorce listed here?"

Rosemary hesitated for a second before replying confidently, "Exactly what it says."

It was crystal clear to anyone who understood.

"Three years of marriage without sex, failing to meet the basic needs of the wife, suspecting the husband of erectile dysfunction."

With every word Maxwell read, Rosemary felt her scalp tighten. She feared this man might strangle her in a fit of rage. But she spoke the truth; in three years of marriage, he never touched her.

As he got to the part about dividing assets, a chill flickered in his eyes, "Seems like these past three years as an assistant weren't for nothing. You know my properties like the back of your hand. But Rosemary, do you really think you can take a cent from me?"

Rosemary was ready to walk away with nothing, so the dig didn't faze her. But her indifference seemed like a challenge to Maxwell. His well-defined fingers reached out, pinching her chin, "What will you live on after leaving me? With that pitiful salary of five hundred a month? Forget rent, can you even buy the necklace you're wearing?"

The sarcasm was clear. Rosemary tried to turn her head to escape his grip, but failed, the pinch growing more painful.

Bearing the pain, she retorted, "That's my business, not yours."

"Pfft." Maxwell snorted with a sardonic laugh, an aura of menace around him that felt like it could tear her apart, "So, found yourself a new sugar daddy to take you in?"

Seeing her silence, Maxwell took it as a yes. He suddenly chuckled, his thin lips curling up in a mocking smile, releasing his grip on her chin, "Seems like you've got something twisted. You don't get to call the shots on whether we divorce or not. There's still three months left on that agreement." Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

But to Rosemary, it made no difference. He hadn't treated her like his wife for the past three years, so why would the last three months matter?

His attitude now was just because the divorce was her idea - it bruised his ego and tarnished Victoria's reputation. Typical male pride!

Looked like there was no chance of settling the divorce today, so Rosemary decided to lay her cards on the table, "No matter how much time is left, I'm not moving back in."

Maxwell looked down at her with a condescending glare, "Are you trying to tell me you want a separation, huh?"