Bound to Burn

By the time I woke up, my head was heavy. Lewis’s arms were wrapped around my waist. If he were awake, I would have completely lost it. I tossed and turned throughout the night. Added to that, the bed was small. This wasn’t the kind of luxury I was accustomed to. But I was learning to deal with it. I assure you.

It’s just a temporary arrangement, and I feel incredibly fortunate that Lewis has allowed me to share his tiny apartment. What would I do without his support? Enduring the tight space is a minor inconvenience to experience the comfort of a dear friend.

Going through a divorce when your spouse is a billionaire is never straightforward. The process tends to drag on longer than it would for a typical couple. Just managing the process made my head spin. Balancing my new life as a single woman, keeping track of my small company’s finances, and trying to be a good friend to Lewis was enough to give anyone a headache.

Fortunately, Noah, my husband , finally signed the divorce papers. Even if everything happened too smoothly, I don’t mind. At least I will finally be liberated from his control. The mere thought of him sends a shiver down my spine. The prospect of freedom from him is all I needed to endure whatever I face now.

My previous lifestyle was nothing but a façade. The sparkle and extravagance concealed all the pain I carried within. I grew weary of the gossip, the insincere sympathy, the forced smiles, and the overall pretense. You can only maintain a lie for so long.

As I began to look at the ceiling, praying I can drift off to sleep again, my phone begins to ring on the bedside table. I reach out blindly, closing my eyes and swiping right without glancing at the caller ID. If I open my eyes, there’s a high likelihood I won’t be able to sleep again.

“Hello,” I mumbled, attempting to keep my voice low so that I wouldn’t wake Lewis.

“Mrs. Hernandez,” the soft voice on the other end says. It’s Mary Anne, the head maid from Noah’s place.

I almost corrected her immediately. I’m no longer Mrs. Hernandez.

“What do you need?” I replied, discarding any hint of politeness. We were quite close and respected each other, but I’m no longer part of the household, and courtesy doesn’t thrive on caffeine deprivation and a few hours of restless sleep.

“Mr. Hernandez would like to know where his black tie is.” I immediately furrow my brow.

“Bedroom closet, left drawer, second row, third on the right.” I sit up in bed.  

Why can’t he just let me be? Why is he constantly trying to undermine everything I have? Look at him, attempting to exert control from afar. I shake my head and lie back down.

The phone buzzes again. I pick it up the second time, preparing myself for anything that was about to come..

“Mrs. Hernandez,” Mary Anne says in her trembling voice. Noah has undoubtedly made her cry again.

“Mr. Hernandez requests that you come and pack for him. He has a business trip to Paris in two hours.”  

My patience frays instantly.

“We're divorced,” I snapped. “Tell him to pack for himself.” I refuse to be at his beck and call for the rest of my life. My finger hovers over the end call button.  

“Get here in thirty minutes,” he commanded.

There he stands. Determination and a complete lack of courtesy. He will not change ever. 

“I’m not your free maid anymore, jerk.” We’re no longer together, and there’s no chance ” 

"You still need to pay me two million dollars," he snarled into the phone, interrupting me. His voice is deep. "I'm reviewing your IOU at this moment, so..." 

Crap!

I immediately switched to my courteous tone. The person he was familiar with from six years of difficult, yielding marriage. 

"I'll arrive immediately." 

I would assist him with packing, sure, and I would throw his two million dollars at him. That was sufficient to deter him for a while. 

Rest is not an option. 

Swinging my legs off the bed, I slip my feet into my warm slippers and put on my robe. 

I begin filling my bathtub. I move at my own pace. I understand how furious he would be if I were to be one minute late. However, he currently lacks any control over me. I’m no longer his wife. I continue to add the extra lavender oil that Noah really enjoys. I’ve already poured it before I realize what I’m doing. Will I ever recover? 

After enjoying my long, relaxing bath, I slipped into the most alluring dress I own in my closet. Anything to reassure him that everything has been alright. Coffee seems ideal. It would help me recover after my encounter with Noah and allow me to collect myself before going to work from the Hernandez Estate. 

As I arrive at the last step, Lewis raises his cup in acknowledgment. 

“Good morning, Sunshine,” he replies, grinning and taking a sip of his oatmeal milkshake. His headphones are placed on the table. He likely just returned from his run. 

He has been begging me for the past month to join him. I want to, but I don’t have that much time to spare.

My company is still a start-up and everything has to be in place. I shuffle to the counter and pour myself a cup of coffee, adding enough milk. I take a long satisfying sip, allowing the coffee to settle my nerves and warm my insides.

“Good morning,” I finally answered Lewis. “Another long run?” He nods.

His muscles appeared toned and he has been getting fit, but I would not tell him that. He would use it to judge me forever.

I’m about to ask him who he saw on his run this time, when my phone rings. I jump and Lewis stares at me weirdly.

It's Noah. He called with his own number this time.