Too Late To Regret Divorcing Me

(Julia’s POV)

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A rainy day in Emerald City would call for an invitation to rest while guiding one’s mind to relax. The current heat felt in the city for the past couple of weeks, made me almost forget how the cooling breeze felt like.

With a glass of iced chocolate on my hand, I sat near the slightly opened window feeling the cool air blowing on my face, while patiently waiting for him. I sighed looking at my handphone. There were no calls or response received from my messages sent to him.

“Where are you Vincent?” I asked myself while staring at the messages I had sent to him.

It has been six months since I had said “I do” to him. But, I am seeing less of him lately. I knew this was what was expected for a contract marriage. It was just marriage on paper. No love, no emotion.

However, there was a time where I had thought I had a chance with him. At the beginning of our marriage, he showed signs he cared. Not a perfect husband but he had made sure my needs were provided for, on financial and security. But not on fulfilling my sexual desires for him.

I’m working on that.

I needed to try. I was also hoping we could have a serious talk about something dear to me. I needed to get some information about my parent’s accident, from him. He was the clue in me finding some answers.

For the obvious reason that he was there when it happened.

My mind drifted on remembering that one night that he had come home in a cheerful mood bringing a bottle of expensive champagne to share with me. I had never seen him so happy.

But, we were too drunk to talk about serious matters.

So drunk that I woke up that day with a massive headache and pain all over my body, on my bed. A bed I was sleeping on, separate from his. He did not want me to share his room with me.

I exhaled loudly to myself while looking around the huge luxurious penthouse that he had kept me staying outside the limelight. Only close family and friends of his knew about our marriage. He did not want it to be known on that fact that he had chosen a simple and poor nurse to marry.

If only he knew who I truly was. I smiled and rested my head on the chair.

After an hour waiting for my husband, I dozed off on the comfortable lounge chair. It was a long day of cleaning the house and cooking for him. There are times I don’t understand why I placed so much effort to be a good wife.

He never did treat me as one that he loved. I was more like a maid in the house and a puppet for him to show around to his parents. ‘A pretty puppet maid I hope’ that thought made me chuckled.

It felt safe living with him in his secured home with a bodyguard and a driver who protected me all these months. Things were going on as planned.

Another hour had passed. The sound of the door to the private elevator to our penthouse woke me up. I knew it was him. His scent of mixed vanilla and a hint of citrus, were pleasing to me. It was sweet and warm, definitely a turn on for a woman like me.

“Vincent, is that you?” Why did I even bothered to ask such stupid question? He was not going to answer me. Never did. I sighed a little with my sweet smile kept on my blushed face.

So much for the silent treatment I had to endure living with him for the past few weeks, I did not understand why he had treated me differently all of a sudden. Something was going on and I had no clue what it was.

Despite the arrogance and cold treatment he gave me, I knew deep inside my heart that I was making some progress. At least, he came home to me.

“I’ll warm up the food for you. Have a seat. I cook your favourite steak” I walked towards him and helped him remove his expensive looking coat. ‘Oh, his coat smelled nice too’

He scoffed and shook his head. “My favourite steak?” he said and walked towards the dining room leaving me hanging his coat in the wardrobe.

I knew I might have oversold my cooking for a bit. But, in my defence, he had never complained about my cooking. I thought he did like them. He had always finished the dishes I had prepared for him. All the time.

I sighed realising I might be wrong. Maybe, he was just hungry.

Seeing he walked towards the dining table, I stared at his broad back. For a moment I was daydreaming and imagined he would turn around and whisk me away to make love to me in his bedroom. There it goes again. I smiled like a virgin girl meeting her crush in person, for the first time.

“Why are you still standing there, smiling like an idiot?” his deep voice brought me back to reality.

‘Urgh, this man. Why does he likes to break my moment?’ I thought with a fake smile still plastered on my face as I walked towards the kitchen to serve him his dinner.

Vincent Verdi came from a very wealthy Italian family. Their wealth could last for many generations. He could afford a dozen of helpers to maintain the house to its finest state.

But, he wanted me to do it all by myself. I knew he wanted me to suffer. I knew he enjoyed seeing me working like a maid in his house. ‘Hey, I was not going to give up’

As long as he did not mention the word divorce, the marriage contract was still valid. With that condition set in the contract, I still had another six months left to get some answers from him.

A moment later, I sat opposite him and was watching him eat. It was pleasant. I did not mind the silence between us.

He had such good eating manners. Looking at his perfectly shaped jaw moving made me want to jump on the table and smack his lips with mine. My eyes went down from his light grey eyes to his lips that I had long wish I could taste them again one day.

The brief kiss we had was only for one second on our wedding day. It made my heart flutters remembering that special kiss from him. Of course, we did kiss several times infront of his parents to trick them of thinking we were in love.

His parents loved me. There were times, I thought they knew who I really was.

Vincent saw me staring at him which I knew made him uncomfortable. As he lifted his two fingers to his glass, I knew he wanted me to pour some wine in it.

That was my moment to ask him some important questions. He was a better person when he was a little drunk. It was like a moment when he had put down his guard on me.

I placed my silver cutleries on my plate and poured him his favourite red wine. I poured some for myself as well. We both drank in silence with him clearly avoiding to look into my blue eyes. It was as if my eyes were making the cold hearted and arrogant husband of mine, weak.

“Vincent, I need to ask you some questions. About the –“ my sentence got cut off with a call coming from his handphone. ‘Great! Another missed opportunity’ I thought and sighed in annoyance.

He was staring at his handphone for a moment before reaching for it with his slightly trembling hand.

I wondered who it was. The look of his cold face suddenly turned into a small smile showing part of his deep dimples. The call must be from someone special. ‘Who could it be?’

He got up immediately from his chair and walked towards the door as if his life depended on it.

“Vincent, what’s going on? Are you leaving?” I asked gently while standing up to walk towards him.

With no words coming from his mouth, he left me alone in the huge penthouse.. again.

I sat back on the dining chair and sighed in defeat. “Who the f*ck called him in the middle of the night?”