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illa'
d between us." I explained, my words tumbling out in a rush. Lawrence's expression softened momentarily, but the doubt still lingered in his eyes as he handed me a pile of papers. "I wanted to make you my forever wife, Camilla. But you've shattered that dream with your betrayal, this is a stain on my image and reputation. The pictures are already everywhere on the media and internet," he revealed bitterly. Tears welled up in my eyes as I reached out to take the papers. My heart fell as I realized it was a divorce paper canceling our contract marriage which is yet to come to an end. "Please, Lawrence, you have to believe me," I pleaded, but he refused to even look at me. "Before I return, I want you to leave my house," he said coldly and turned to walk out, leaving me shattered and alone. How was I supposed to know Clinton had set me up? I honestly thought everything that happened that night was behind me. I didn't expect it to come back and ruin everything. We were just having a drink, and I was trying to be polite because things between us had ended on good terms. But then, out of nowhere, I started feeling dizzy and passed out, and the next thing I remember was waking up alone in a hotel room. At the time, I thought he had helped me, maybe taken me somewhere safe after I passed out. That's what made sense to me. I never imagined he had planned something so terrible. I never thought he'd go as far as setting me up like that. I sank to the floor, completely overwhelmed, letting the weight of his accusations crush me from the inside out. I didn't try to hold back the tears-they came freely, without warning. And right then, the truth of it all hit me. Our marriage hadn't just gone through a rough patch. It had fallen apart right in front of me. At that moment, I realized I had probably lost the one person I had ever truly loved. Everything was happening so fast, I didn't even get the chance to tell him about my pregnancy. The one thing that could've changed everything. But now it didn't feel like something I could mention, not in the middle of all that. Not when he looked at me like I was someone he could never trust again. If I told him now, what if he said the baby wasn't his? What if he believed Clinton was the father? Hours passed without any sign of him coming back home. I tried to contact him but all to no avail. Pain, confusion, and silence filled the space as I pushed myself to start packing my things slowly. I had already called Jane. She didn't understand much from the call and had promised to show up at the house as soon as possible. A few minutes later,
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