Billionaire, Let's Divorce!

EMILY'S POV

A dull throbbing behind my eyes pulled me from the depths of unconsciousness. I groaned, rolling onto my side and burying my face in the pillow. The sudden movement seemed to make me feel more nauseous and I lay still, willing my stomach to settle.

Some fragments of memories zipped through my mind...a bar... whiskey burning my throat... angry words spilling from my lips; trying to piece all of them together only intensified the pounding in my head. I opened my eyes to the rays of sunlight dancing through a gap in the curtains and it was painfully bright. I blinked rapidly so that my vision would gradually adjust to the surroundings, which I soon noticed was my bedroom.

But how did I get here?

The last thing I remembered was...what? Falling? Someone catching

me?

I pushed myself up to a sitting position, immediately regretting the sudden movement as my head spun again. Clutching my temples, I took deep breaths and tried to ward off another wave of nausea. Questions began swirling in my mind, each one bringing with it a fresh ache to my temples.

Who brought me home?

What happened after I blacked out?

And why did I feel like I was forgetting something important?

The effort of trying to remember proved too much. I got out of bed and stood on shaky legs. First things first, I needed to deal with this

hangover.

I shuffled to the kitchen, still squinting against the bright morning light. My body moved on autopilot, gathering ingredients for my tried-and-true hangover soup. Ginger, garlic, chicken broth, which was a soothing routine that required little thought from my foggy brain.

While I chopped vegetables, I heard,

"Emily."

The voice came from behind me, startling in its familiarity. Something stirred in my chest like a mix of emotions I couldn't quite place. Anger, hurt, betrayal...why? The soup forgotten, I gripped the edge of the counter as a fresh wave of pain lanced through my skull.

"Em? Are you okay?"

Then when the footsteps approached, I tensed up.

Why did Adam's voice fill me with such unease?

Why couldn't I remember?

"I've been calling you all night. I was so worried. When you didn't show up for dinner, I thought...well, I didn't know what to think. Then some guy answered your phone, said you'd had too much to drink and he was bringing you home. What happened?"

His words triggered a flash of memory-Mia's smug face, a phone screen filled with damning messages and photos. Then the stirring with the wooden stopped as the entire memories from yesterday started coming back.

remained silent and focused on the soup. The smell of ginger and garlic that should have been comforting was now turning my stomach.

"Emily, please talk to me. Are you mad about something? Did I do something wrong?"

Adam's hand touched my shoulder and I flinched.

"What's going on? Why are you ignoring me?"

I turned to face his disheveled appearance. He looked like he didn't sleep all night. For a moment, I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

I smiled, "I'm fine."

"But-"

I cut him off, reaching past him to grab my bowl of soup.

"I said I'm fine."

And then, I brushed past him, leaving him standing bewildered in the kitchen. As I walked away, I could feel his eyes boring into my back, but

I didn't turn around.

I settled into the armchair with the bowl of soup. I could see Adam in the kitchen, gulping down water like a man dying of thirst. His adam's apple bobbed with each swallow, and I found myself wondering how many times it had done the same while he was with Mia.

The thought made my stomach churn, and I forced myself to take a sip of the soup. As the ginger and garlic hit my tongue, I contemplated my

next move.

Confront him now?

Wait until the fog of my hangover cleared?

And after the confrontation, what then?

Adam's eyes turned in my direction, and I quickly averted my eyes to focus on my soup.

knew he was coming to where I was so I didn't look up.

"Something's wrong. I can feel it. Please, talk to me. Whatever it is, we

can work through it together. I'm here to help, always.l

I laughed. I imagined standing up and pouring the hot soup over his head, then watching his face contort in pain and shock. The image was so vivid and satisfying that my hand twitched on the bowl. "Nothing's wrong, Adam. I just went out for a few drinks last night. Didn't see your text," I forced a smile.

He nodded, seeming relieved.

"Of course. I was just worried. You never ignore my messages."

I hummed noncommittally, taking another sip of soup. "How was your trip?"

Adam's face lit up, and he started giving me details of how the

supposed trip went, while I noted every lie after lie that made the anger in me grow like a living thing inside me.

"You must have had a really great time with Mia," I said casually, cutting him off mid-sentence.Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

Adam froze, "What are you talking about?"

I set my bowl down carefully, meeting his gaze.

"Oh, I think you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Emily, I don't-"

"Save it," I snapped, my calm facade cracking.

"I know everything. Your mistress paid me a visit yesterday. Told me all sorts of interesting things. She showed me some rather vivid evidence too."

Adam's face drained of color. "Emily, I can explain—“

"Explain?" I laughed, the sound harsh and humorless.

"Explain what, exactly? How you've been fucking your ex behind my back? How you've made a fool of me for years?"

I stood up, my hangover forgotten in the face of my rage.

"You're a cheating bastard, Adam."

I turned on my heel and headed for the bedroom.

Adam scrambled after me.

"Emily, wait! Please, let's talk about this. It's not what you think-"

I turned around angrily. "Don't you dare follow me. Don't you dare try to explain or justify or whatever the hell you think you're going to do. Just stay away from me."

The door slammed behind me with a satisfying bang. Through the wood, I could hear Adam's frustrated growl, followed by the sound of something shattering— a glass, maybe, or a picture frame.

I wanted to go back out there to scream and rage and make him feel even a fraction of the pain I was feeling. But I held myself back.

In the bedroom, I leaned against the door, listening. Adam's voice drifted through, low and angry.

He was on the phone.

"What the hell were you thinking? Are you insane?"

I couldn't make out the response, but Adam's next words were clear enough.

"A few pictures? Mia, you showed her pictures of us together. Do you have any idea what you've done?"

My lips curved into a bitter smile. Oh, Adam. You have no idea what's coming.

I moved away from the door, not wanting to hear anymore.

+