Chapter 3

Ring.. Ring… Ring…

My phone has been ringing nonstop since this morning and I know exactly who’s calling—Christian, my husband—or maybe I should start calling him my soon-to-be ex-husband.

He must have already received the divorce petition my lawyer sent this morning.

Yesterday, before I contacted Edward Cross and finally met him at The Whitmore, I’d already visited Evelina, my best friend who, fortunately, is a lawyer.

I showed her everything—the photos, videos, messages, and every little piece of evidence I’d gathered over the past few weeks since discovering Christian’s affair.

She didn’t ask many questions. She just examined everything carefully before telling me she’d take care of the necessary paperwork.

This morning, she told me that the divorce papers had been sent to Christian via email. He is still in Chicago on a business trip—or at least, that’s what he told me two days ago.

But I know full well that Anna is there with him.

My phone vibrated again, Christian Black. I stared at his name for a few seconds before flipping my phone face down on the coffee table.

I wasn’t ready to talk to him. I’d spent long enough staring at his face, listening to his excuses, and pretending that everything between us was fine.

And right now, I don't want to do that anymore—disappointment, sadness, and anger were overwhelming me so much that  I’m sure that talking to him would make that anger explode.

Christian and I have known each other since the beginning of college, and our relationship began in our sophomore year; we promised to achieve everything we’ve accomplished today.

However, after getting it all, he was the one who broke that promise.

My phone started ringing again, and I sighed before finally picking it up, intending to silence it, but another call came in before I could do so.

This time, it was Evelina, and I answered right away. “Hey, bestie?”

“Have you talked to him yet?” she asked without any small talk or pleasantries.

I sighed and leaned back on the sofa. “Not yet.”

“I’m sure he’s been calling you, right?” She asked quickly.

I glanced at my phone screen. “Since this morning.”

“Good. Don’t pick up if you don’t want to.”

I chuckled at her words. “You’re a lawyer. Shouldn’t you be telling me to communicate with my husband, Eve?”

“Not if your husband is busy with another woman.” She sounded annoyed as she spoke, and I couldn’t help but smile.

That’s Evelina… She’s always blunt—sometimes even too blunt—but I know she’s completely trustworthy and means well.

“Have you received his confirmation yet?” I asked after a while.

“Yes. The documents have been sent, and he’ll probably keep contacting you once he realizes you’re serious and that this could jeopardize his career.” She explained.

I looked out the window.

Outside, the morning sunlight illuminated the surrounding buildings. It was a beautiful day, though I wasn’t really in the mood to enjoy it.

“Priscilla?” she called softly, in stark contrast to her firm tone from earlier.

“Hmm?”

She hesitated for a moment before finally asking, “Are you okay?”

I was silent for a moment.

That question reminded me that she had asked me the same thing yesterday. I’d known her for as long as I’d known Christian; we went to the same college—though she majored in law—and I ran into her at the library, where she always spent her time.

“Are you okay?” Evelina asked the same thing when I sat across from her in her office with the evidence I’d gathered.

I remember staring at the photos scattered across her desk.

There was Christian, smiling as he lovingly wrapped his arm around Anna, a young woman who looked glamorous and incredibly beautiful.

He looked happy—even happier than I’d ever seen him in all those months whenever he was around me.

I stared at the photo for quite a while before taking a deep breath.

Then I nodded. “Yes. I’m fine.” 

Evelina looked at me sadly.

“Priscilla, you don’t have to pretend in front of me,” she said firmly.

I forced a smile. “I know.”

“Then stop doing it!!!”

I looked at her, and she reached across the table and gently squeezed my hand.

“How long have you been dealing with this?” she asked, sounding concerned.

I shrugged. “A few weeks.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” She looked shocked and angry, but I knew her anger wasn’t directed at me—it was at the situation I was in.

“I’m not sure what to do,” I said softly, giving a bitter smile.

“Well, you don’t have to figure it all out today. But you do need to start thinking about yourself,” she said firmly.

I could only nod silently.

It sounded so simple when she said it. Thinking about myself. Yes, all this time I’ve sacrificed everything to help Christian achieve his goals, telling myself it was all for our future together.

Only to find out in the end he didn’t choose me back.

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