Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 28033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
“I still want a divorce.“
Nothing had changed.
Chapter Two
One moment, Leonidas was already envisioning their future together—
And then the next moment, his world came came crashing back down.
“I still want a divorce.“
Because apparently, nothing had changed, with her words catching him off guard and causing his grip on her wrist to loosen. “What do you mean you still want a divorce?”
Despair squeezed her heart. So, so many things she wanted to say. So, so many things she were feeling. But instead, she heard herself stammer, “I...I n-need to rest.”
Leonidas didn’t even have a chance to respond, with his wife actually running—running!—past him, her sensible flats slapping against marble, dark hair escaping its careful arrangement, before locking herself inside her suite like a child trying to escape her parent’s scolding.
Sovará? Seriously?
It would have made him laugh, this glimpse of the stubborn girl her mother had once warned him about.
And it would have...if she had not asked him for a divorce.
Twice.
The unmistakable click of a lock followed, the sound snapping him out of his senses, and Leonidas’ lips tightened.
In mere moments, he had crossed the living room in measured strides, his footsteps unhurried despite the unfamiliar tension coiling in his chest. The guest room door was solid oak. Italian craftsmanship. Built to last generations.
He could break it down if he wanted to.
His knuckles rapped against the wood instead.
“We are not finished talking, Lexina.”
Silence.
“I am aware that you can hear me.”
More silence.
“Lexina—”
“We can talk tomorrow.” Her voice was muffled through the door, but the strain underscoring her words was still evident. “I need to rest.”
“We need to discuss—”
“I just found out you had a mistress, okay?”
The words cracked on the last syllable, and it was that...
It was that sound which made his own chest crack.
And his hand, already braced against the doorframe, slowly lowered.
“Alright.” His voice sounded strange to his own ears, but he could not for some reason explain why. “Tomorrow then.”
He didn’t say anything else.
But stood there a full minute.
Waiting for something. Anything. But eventually, he had to turn away and accept that he was waiting for nothing.
A heavy sensation settled in his chest as he forced himself to walk back to the living room.
His gaze strayed to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked a city he had conquered in every way that mattered.
But he saw none of it.
In his mind, all he could see was her.
His wife.
Lexina...from the eight years they had spent together.
And throughout it, she had always been smiling. Laughing. Or sleeping.
So why then?
Why did she still want a divorce?
Or was the reason something that was already in front of him—but had a hard time accepting?
Did she want a divorce...because she could not forgive him for having a mistress?
A mistress that he believed in full conscience she had given him permission to acquire.
A mistress he had already stopped visiting months before he had learned of her work at Aivan’s company...because of reasons he still refused to spend time deciphering.
It was one thing to give their marriage a real shot.
Another thing entirely to make their marriage something that was not based on logic and convenience.
****
Inside the guest room, Lexy had her back pressed against the locked door, one hand clamped over her mouth.
She could still feel him out there.
And it hurt so, so much that she did.
He wanted them to keep talking.
Tomorrow even.
Like this was something one night’s sleep could fix.
Or that there was something to even talk about in the first place.
Lexy pushed herself off the door and crossed to the en-suite bathroom on unsteady legs. Closed that door too. Locked it too. Sank down onto the cold tile floor with her back against the bathtub and finally—finally—let herself fall apart.
The tears came in waves. Silent at first, then shaking, then ugly. The kind of crying she hadn’t done since...since, oh, it had been so long, she couldn’t even remember when was the last time she did. Or maybe she had never cried like this. Since she had never been hurt like this.
Lexy pressed her palms against her eyes as if she could push the tears back in.
It didn’t work.
Nothing worked.
Because even if Leonidas hadn’t technically lied, even if she had technically signed that amendment, even if everything he said was technically true—
It changed nothing.
Because of that phone call from three hours back.
“Mrs. Gazis?”
A woman’s voice. Accented. Unfamiliar.
“Yes?”
“I apologize for calling you like this. I know it must seem...” A shaky breath. “My name is Lydia. Lydia de Castro.”
Even now the memory made Lexy feel like her whole world was spinning.
“I am...I was your husband’s...”
She remembered trying to just breathe because she already knew.
“I’m sorry. This is harder than I thought it would be.”
Because she recognized the name, and so she knew, of course.
“I know I should not call you like this. It is inappropriate, and Leonidas—”
Oh, to hear that woman say her husband’s name...the mere memory of it had Lexy clutching her chest.