Billionaire, Let's Divorce!

EMILY'S POV

The burden I'd been carrying for the past day seemed to have reduced on my shoulders because, now, it was out in the open and I'd confronted him.

No doubt, the pain was still there, raw and throbbing, but it was accompanied by a fierce sense of

liberation.

My eyes went to my closet on the other side of the room, which was filled with designer clothes and shoes. I was already beginning to calculate in my head how long it would take for me to pack all of my belongings; how many bags would I need to make sure left and left nothing behind?

Or maybe I could just walk out and leave everything behind. It would be so easy to just disappear and start fresh somewhere new where no one knew me as Adam's wife or as part of the country's elite.

But then, on another hand was the media frenzy that would undoubtedly follow the news of our separation. The gossip and speculations were always waiting in a corner, for the right time to be spread. Power Couple Splits,' would be a front page-worthy headline for sure.

People would talk, they always did. They liked to dissect other people's lives to look for signs they might have missed.

Maybe some would pity me.

Maybe others would blame me and say "She must have driven him to cheat," "Maybe if she'd been a

better wife..."

I shook my head as I felt some anger flaring up again. No. Fuck all of that. Fuck what people would say; fuck their judgments and their gossip. I was Emily fucking Cartwright before I became Emily Sinclair, and I'd be damned if I let fear of public opinion keep me trapped in a loveless and disrespectful marriage.

Just then, the shrill sound of my phone ringing cut through my thoughts.

I stared down at the device lying innocuously on the bed as its screen lit up with an unknown number.

At first, I considered ignoring it. I wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone right now, least of all a stranger. But something, intuition perhaps, made me reach for it. I swiped to answer, bringing the phone to my ear.

"Hello?"

"So," a familiar voice purred, "Have you left him yet?"

"My life and my dealings are none of your fucking business," I snarled into the phone and without waiting *for a response, I jabbed the end call button. "That bitch" I muttered, tossing the phone onto the bed like

it

was contaminated.

Before I could process the audacity of Mia's call, a knock on the door made me turn my eyes to the door and I already knew m who it was, almost rolling my eyes. I didn't have the energy for another confrontation. So I crawled into bed and pulled the covers up to my chin like a shield against the world.

"Emily, please," Adam's frustrated voice drifted through the door.

"We need to talk about this. Just hear me out for a minute."All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

1 squeezed my eyes shut because the sound of his voice irritated me so much.

What could he possibly say to redeem himself?

Sorry, I've been fucking my ex behind your back for years? Oops, my bad for making you look like a fool. Yeah, right.

The knocking continued, interspersed with Adam's pleas, but I tuned it out. My mind was imagining all the ways I could make him suffer for what he'd done. Revenge fantasies played out behind my closed eyelids.

Eventually, the knocking stopped. I held my breath, straining to hear if he was still out there. There was no sound. Did he give up already? Hell, he couldn't even knock for an hour or something.

I sighed again and turned around under the sheets. I didn't realize when I drifted off to sleep. But my last conscious thought must have been a vague hope that when I woke up, this would all turn out to be some horrible nightmare.

When I opened my eyes again, the room was bathed in the golden light of late afternoon. For a blissful moment, I forgot everything but only for a few seconds, then I remembered again and the knot in my stomach tightened once more.

I lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling, and maybe trying to summon the energy to face the world. Then I threw back the covers off my body and padded to the door.

Slowly, I turned the handle, cracking the door open just enough to peek out.

There was a box sitting directly in front of the door.

I frowned. Was I expecting a package?

I opened the door wider, now checking the hallway in both directions. There was no sign of Adam or anyone else, just that mysterious box sitting there.

For some reason, I wanted to kick it down the stairs and be done with it because it was probably some pathetic attempt at an apology. As if he could buy his way out of this mess.

But then, there was that part of me that was too curious for my own good. I wanted to know what was inside. What did he think was worth leaving outside my door? What could possibly make up for his betrayal?

I bent down to pick up the box.

It was lighter than I expected and didn't make any noise when I shook it gently. No ticking, at least, so probably not a bomb.

I brought it back into the bedroom and set it on the bed. Then I grabbed a pair of scissors from the nightstand, attacking the tape with more force than necessary.

The box popped open, revealing a nest of tissue paper. I pawed through it, my fingers brushing against something soft. A cashmere scarf- my favorite brand

I scoffed.

Under it was a small velvet box that probably had some jewelry.

And there was a folded note amongst the gifts. I plucked it out and read:

"Can we talk?"

I scoffed, "Seriously?"

Not even a sorry. Not like I cared for that anyway.

I dumped the note back in the box, scooped up the entire contents of it, and stormed to the bedroom

window.

I yanked it open and unceremoniously dumped the lot into the lawn below.

The scarf fluttered down like a deflated parachute. The jewelry box popped open mid-fall, scattering what looked like diamonds across the grass. Adam's note sailed away on the breeze, probably to land in some neighbor's yard. Let them deal with his bullshit.

"There's your answer," I muttered as I slammed the window shut.