"I think we should divorce," Sabrina announced, her tone steady.

Tyrone froze, his hand mid-pour. He turned to gaze at Sabrina, disbelief etched across his face. "What did you just say?"

He was oblivious to the glass overfilling.

"I said, we should get a divorce," Sabrina reiterated, meeting Tyrone's stare.

Tyrone's heart stuttered.

His gaze betrayed his shock, so absorbed in his thoughts he failed to notice the water spilling onto his hand. His fingers reddened, his sleeve soaked by the scalding overflow.

Realizing he remained silent, Sabrina continued, “Let's keep this from Grandpa as long as possible."

Tyrone didn't respond, simply Looking at her.

"Sir, you're spilling water!" Karen, exiting her room, saw Tyrone's mess and rushed over to relieve him of the glass. "Are you hurt? I can fetch the ointment."

"No. Return to your room," Tyrone commanded in an icy tone.

Karen flinched, recognizing his fury. She was mindful of Sabrina's pregnancy. Before leaving, she reminded Tyrone, "Sir, please calm down.

Don't hurt Mrs. Blakely."

Once Karen's room door was shut, Tyrone fixed his chilly gaze on Sabrina. "Why the sudden talk of divorce?"

“Aren't we heading towards a divorce? There's no sense in pretending otherwise."

“Whether it's senseless or not isn't for you to decide!"

"I don't wish to argue. I've decided."

“Well, I don't agree!"

"I recall Grandpa mentioning that if we still desire a divorce after he's gone, then we should proceed with it. Grandma won't intervene. So, why waste time now?"

Sabrina recalled Cesar's recent hospitalization and her ensuing fear.

The doctor's words had painted a bleak picture of Cesar's future.