After the Divorce: Crushed on My Lawyer Ex-wife

#207 “That Doesn’t Mean I Have to Like It.”

In the archives, Sophia and Alexander were immersed in a sea of papers, their brows furrowed in concentration as they sifted through document after document. Sophia meticulously combed through bank accounts, her frustration mounting with each unremarkable find.

“It’s not going to happen this way,” she growled, her voice tinged with irritation as she tossed another set of papers aside. “There’s absolutely nothing here that can mitigate the situation. Maybe my grandfather was just a criminal, and there’s nothing good about that.”

“Easy, love,” Alexander intervened gently, approaching her with concern etched on his features. “You’re tired. You don’t really think so.”

Sophia sighed, her shoulders sagging with exhaustion. She could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on her, the pressure to find a solution overwhelming.

“How about I go get us some food and coffee?” Alexander suggested, his voice soft and reassuring. “You can rest for a bit.”

“Do you really think there’s a chance for us to get out of this situation?” Sophia asked, her gaze still fixed on the scattered documents littering the floor.

“I believe your grandfather isn’t a monster,” Alexander replied, his tone gentle yet resolute. “He did what he had to do to protect his family.”

doubt still lingered in her mind. “It’s just… infuriating,” she confessed, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “To constantly feel like the world is working against us. I’ve worked hard, I’ve tried to do what’s right, and yet we always

it’s an inevitable part of the job,” Alexander

declared, her resolve firm. “I’m just… angry.

the sound a welcome relief amidst the tension. “I’ll go get some food,” he offered, squeezing her hand gently before

movements methodical yet urgent. Each transaction bore the name of the National Bank of England, a connection that hinted at a deeper truth waiting to be

reaching a dead end. With

a concerned furrow marring his brow as he

“he chided her lightly, though his

you don’t know

he set down the food he had

replied, her tone

knit together in

I think most of the

out before her, pointing out the recurring mention of her grandfather’s home in London as a pivotal

the last time, I don’t know if

your father acts and you’re not here to

“We can send someone…”