Midnight Intruder’s Milk Claim - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
You are reading Midnight Intruder’s Milk Claim, Chapter 4: Chapter 4. Read more chapters of Midnight Intruder’s Milk Claim.
My thoughts were interrupted by Nathan Evans' sudden call.
Turns out yesterday marked the end of our cooling-off period. His message was clear—meet him at the courthouse today to finalize our divorce.
His voice was clinical, detached. Just business.
"Keep the baby or don't—your choice. Either way, I won't be involved."
I didn't miss a beat.
"You absolute bastard! As if I'd let you within a mile of my child. You and your little homewrecker deserve each other. Honestly? This kid's lucky to dodge having you as a father."
The sting of his betrayal—cheating while I was pregnant, filing for divorce—still burned fresh.
But part of me was grateful. Better to see his true colors now than waste more years on him.
"Relax," I snapped. "The agreement already absolves you of child support. Just don't come crying to me when you're old and alone."
Financially, I was set. A six-figure salary, healthy savings, and supportive parents—this only child wasn't lacking resources.
Single motherhood didn't intimidate me. I'd raise this baby right, with or without him.
And let's be honest—I wasn't exactly hard on the eyes. Once I bounced back post-pregnancy, dating wouldn't be an issue.
Nathan traded diamonds for dirt. His mistake, not mine.
After court, I snapped a victorious selfie with my divorce decree and posted it to Moments.
Caption: Freedom has never smelled sweeter.
The notifications exploded.
Friends, family, even acquaintances flooded the comments—including Theo Valentine, the painfully attractive plumber in his early twenties who'd fixed my pipes last month.
His message stood out: a surprisingly heartfelt paragraph congratulating me. I replied with a polite thanks before treating myself to retail therapy and a decadent solo dinner.
By 8 PM, I stepped into my building's elevator—and collided with Theo.
The kid practically folded into himself, cheeks flushing as he stammered, "H-Hey, Evelyn."
I offered a smile, about to chat, when it hit me.
Mint.
Faint but unmistakable—identical to my masked intruder's scent from last night.
My gaze sharpened on the bashful boy shrinking against the elevator wall. "D-Do I have something on my face?" he squeaked.
No trace of last night's dominance. This nervous wreck couldn't possibly be the man who'd pinned me down and—
I shook my head, chuckling as I exited. "Just enjoying the scenery."
Exhaustion clung to me after the day's events, yet the memory of his promise—I'll return tonight—sent an illicit thrill down my spine.
I didn't understand this anticipation coiling in my stomach.
But I followed his instructions anyway.
Showered meticulously. Slathered on my most luxurious body wash.
Ready.
Turns out yesterday marked the end of our cooling-off period. His message was clear—meet him at the courthouse today to finalize our divorce.
His voice was clinical, detached. Just business.
"Keep the baby or don't—your choice. Either way, I won't be involved."
I didn't miss a beat.
"You absolute bastard! As if I'd let you within a mile of my child. You and your little homewrecker deserve each other. Honestly? This kid's lucky to dodge having you as a father."
The sting of his betrayal—cheating while I was pregnant, filing for divorce—still burned fresh.
But part of me was grateful. Better to see his true colors now than waste more years on him.
"Relax," I snapped. "The agreement already absolves you of child support. Just don't come crying to me when you're old and alone."
Financially, I was set. A six-figure salary, healthy savings, and supportive parents—this only child wasn't lacking resources.
Single motherhood didn't intimidate me. I'd raise this baby right, with or without him.
And let's be honest—I wasn't exactly hard on the eyes. Once I bounced back post-pregnancy, dating wouldn't be an issue.
Nathan traded diamonds for dirt. His mistake, not mine.
After court, I snapped a victorious selfie with my divorce decree and posted it to Moments.
Caption: Freedom has never smelled sweeter.
The notifications exploded.
Friends, family, even acquaintances flooded the comments—including Theo Valentine, the painfully attractive plumber in his early twenties who'd fixed my pipes last month.
His message stood out: a surprisingly heartfelt paragraph congratulating me. I replied with a polite thanks before treating myself to retail therapy and a decadent solo dinner.
By 8 PM, I stepped into my building's elevator—and collided with Theo.
The kid practically folded into himself, cheeks flushing as he stammered, "H-Hey, Evelyn."
I offered a smile, about to chat, when it hit me.
Mint.
Faint but unmistakable—identical to my masked intruder's scent from last night.
My gaze sharpened on the bashful boy shrinking against the elevator wall. "D-Do I have something on my face?" he squeaked.
No trace of last night's dominance. This nervous wreck couldn't possibly be the man who'd pinned me down and—
I shook my head, chuckling as I exited. "Just enjoying the scenery."
Exhaustion clung to me after the day's events, yet the memory of his promise—I'll return tonight—sent an illicit thrill down my spine.
I didn't understand this anticipation coiling in my stomach.
But I followed his instructions anyway.
Showered meticulously. Slathered on my most luxurious body wash.
Ready.
End of Midnight Intruder’s Milk Claim Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to Midnight Intruder’s Milk Claim book page.