Semua Bab Would You Divorce Over a Cup of Coffee: Bab 1 - Bab 8

I was dying from my fear of heights, but my husband, Don Vincent, was busy with his assistant, savoring the latest coffee flown in from Hawaii that morning."You're a grown woman, Bella. What's the big deal? You're stuck on a roof, figure it out."Then he hung up on me.I collapsed onto the hot tar of the roof, my body shaking uncontrollably before everything went black.It was two hours before building security found me.When I got home, I asked Vincent for a divorce.He rubbed his temples, his patience worn thin, looking at me as if I were a child throwing a tantrum."Over a cup of coffee? I told you, the heights are all in your head. You’re perfectly safe now. Stop making a scene alright? What's this nonsense about a divorce? I have more important things to deal with. Calm yourself down."I stared at his back as he left, tears already streaming down my face.Something important?Did he really think I couldn't hear his assistant, Sophia, murmuring in the background?Did he think I di

"Bella, aren't you allergic to lilies? Let's get these flowers into Sophia's office." Anna pointed at the bouquets, pulling me away.Even my co-workers remembered something like that. Had Vincent really forgotten?Sophia loved strong scents. Jasmine perfume, lily bouquets.I remembered when we first got married, Vincent memorized everything I liked. I loved the delicate scent of lily of the valley, and he had them specially ordered and planted all around our villa. I was allergic to lilies, so he'd never let one in the house.Now, he'd even forgotten my allergies."Bella, are you okay?" Anna asked, her voice full of concern."I'm fine." I looked away. "Let's get back to work."I went to my office and started preparing for next month's big exhibition. It was a project I'd been planning for six months, featuring ten up-and-coming artists. The client was one of New York's biggest art investment funds. The deal was worth millions. This exhibition was supposed to be a major milestone in my

On the flight to Seattle, I leaned against the window, staring out into the night.Three years ago, I gave up everything for Vincent.My family’s art business. My life in Seattle.“Come with me,” he’d said. “You're with me now. No one will ever touch you again.”And he did, back then.He’d hold me tight when my fear of heights kicked in.He’d remember every little thing I liked.He’d fly into a rage if anyone so much as looked at me the wrong way.When did it all change?Probably a year after we got married.He started saying things.“Bella, you have nothing without me.”“Your family disowned you. I’m the only one who’ll take care of you.”“So you’d better be grateful. And you’d better listen.”He weaponized my dependence. Took my love for granted.The plane began its descent.Seattle’s lights twinkled outside my window, warm and familiar.I was finally home.Outside the terminal, I spotted my uncle holding a sign.“Uncle Charles!”“Bella!” He wrapped me in a huge hug. “My favorite nie

Vincent pushed the glass door open, his voice pleading.“Bella, I’ve been looking for you for so long,” he said, his voice raspy. “Can we please talk?”“There’s nothing to talk about, Vincent.”“Yes, there is. A lot of things.” He took a step forward. “I know you didn’t send those messages. It was Sophia.”“I know.”“You know?” Vincent stopped, confused. “Then why didn’t you say anything?”“Would you have believed me?” I stared into his eyes. “Back at the restaurant, did you even give me a chance to explain?”Vincent opened his mouth, but no words came out.“Bella, I was wrong,” he said, his voice practically a plea. “I shouldn’t have distrusted you. Come back to New York with me. We can start over.”“Start over?” I laughed, a cold, sharp sound. “Vincent, do you even remember why I wanted a divorce?”“Because of the Sophia thing—”“No,” I cut him off. “It was because while I was clinging to a ledge forty stories up, praying I wouldn't fall, you were buying her a necklace and sipping co