When His Eyes Opened by Simple Silence Chapter 142
The black Rolls-Roice slowed down as it approached the school’s iron gates and waited for them to open.
Avery instinctively picked Hayden up in her arms and turned the other way.
Soon after, the Rolls-Roice sped off in a flash.
Hayden watched as the black luxury sedan drove off into the distance, then glanced at his mother’s anxious expression.
He had a feeling that she knew the person in that car.
He had never seen his mother afraid of anyone, and her fear at this moment piqued his interest.
Once Avery and Hayden walked into the school, a representative from the academy took them on a tour of the grounds.
Angela Special Needs Academy truly lived up to its reputation as Avonsville’s top special needs school.
Not only was the campus an impressive sight, everything from the instructors to the facilities was world-class.
Even though the fees were high, Avery was very satisfied with the place.
She pulled her son aside and said, “Would you like to give this school a try, Hayden? I can send you to class every morning and pick you up in the evening. What do you think?”
Avery would not force Hayden to enroll at the school if he shook his head.
Even if he was different, he was still her baby boy.
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She would gladly spend the rest of her life taking care of him. Which was why she was taken aback when Hayden nodded his head yes.
Was she imagining things?
Hayden actually agreed!
“Are you surè, sweetie?” Avery asked as she held her breath.
Hayden fixed his twinkling eyes on his mother and nodded once again.
Avery pulled her son into her arms; tears began to form in her eyes.
This was only the first step, but it was a giant leap from the past.
At 10 a.m. that morning, Mr. Vaughn had finally managed to get through to Elliot on the
phone.
“Hello, Mr. Foster. I’m Miss Avery Tate’s lawyer, Vaughn…” Mr. Vaughn was worried that Elliot would hang up the phone, so he quickly got to the main point and added, “I’m calling because Miss Tate is back in the country.
Sure enough, Elliot did not hang up on him.
Mr. Vaughn let out a sigh of relief, then said, “Miss Tate called me last night and insisted that I get in touch with you today. She hasn’t changed her mind about the divorce. She wishes for you to sign the divorce papers as soon as possible. Otherwise, she will be taking this to court.”
On the other end of the line, Elliot’s breathing turned distinctly heavier.
“Mr. Foster, I can’t quite understand why you refuse to go through with the divorce. Miss Tate isn’t asking for a penny from you. All she wants is to divorce you. You won’t lose anything from this.”
Vaughn’s annoying voice led Elliot to rub the area between his brows.
“I’ll only do it if she meets me face to face and asks me for a divorce!” he snapped, then hung
up.
Mr. Vaughn passed Elliot’s answer over to Avery.
“Why won’t you just go and meet him, Miss Tate? He said he’d divorce you as long as you meet with him!”
After a moment’s consideration, Avery asked, “Will not divorcing him affect my life?”
Mr. Vaughn was shocked, then answered, “Of course, it will! First of all, all of the money you’ re earning would be considered a part of your marital property…”
“You’re kidding me. He makes a lot more than I do. Why should I be worried if he isn’t?”
“You might have signed a prenuptial agreement, but he did no such thing.
“I’ll just give him whatever he wants if he has the guts to ask me for it.”
“Has your relationship irretrievably broken down or not? I honestly can’t tell.”
“It’s broken,” Avery answered bluntly.
“I see. Would you like to take this case to court, then? It’s a lot more troublesome than meeting him.”
Avery raised her brows, then said, “Let me think about it.”
“Alright. I wish you a smooth divorce,” Mr. Vaughn said, then added after a brief pause, “I still don’t understand why you’re divorcing him. He’s THE Elliot Foster! Countless women couldn’ t marry him no matter how much they wanted to, and here you are insisting on getting a divorce from him.”
“I wish you good business,” Avery said, then hung up. Her head was killing her.
