(Leigh’s POV)
“Alexander Hearst, what have you done?” I ask furiously as I watched him roam around my tiny bedroom as if he is in a museum. I am crying in a panic, but my crazy husband seems to be amused with my artwork and the cleanliness of my room.
“A week delayed?” I yelled, growling at him.
He turns to me. “It was taking you too long to think. If you’re not pregnant, then it’s easier to file the divorce.” He pulls the chair on my study table and pulls me to him, sitting me on his lap.
I bit my lower lip to stop myself from crying, but the back of my legs was swollen after my father paddled me five times that I could not help myself from yelping. I grip his arm, stopping myself from screaming.
Alex’s forehead knitted, and he seemed unhappy with how I reacted.
“Take off your pant
