All Chapters of She Was Never Just the Billionaire’s Wife: Chapter 201 - Chapter 210

(James)I knock at seven.Chase opens the door with a dish towel over his shoulder, which strikes me as distinctly out of character.He looks at me. I look at him.This is the first time we’re meeting in a social setting and neither of us appear to know how to act.I’d been surprised when he invited me, and more pleased than I’m going to admit out loud.“James. Come in. Thank you, that’s very kind."He takes the bottle of wine I brought and sets it on the counter without checking the label.He's a man trying to behave normally inside his own apartment and not quite managing it.I have a feeling he hasn’t had many people over here.Natasha and I have been spending quite a bit of time together, working at building a relationship, and she sometimes drops little crumbs about her… I’m not sure what to call him.Technically husband.They’re not estranged. They’re not divorced. But they’re also not together.I think she still loves him, and even if things don’t work out for them he’s Lily’s

(Julian)I have started showing up once a week.Not exactly invited, but Natasha hasn’t refused me entry yet.Or asked me to stop coming by.It helps that I’m not making any moves of a sexual nature.Let’s be clear, if she initiated anything I’d be naked and doing cartwheels in a heartbeat, but that’s not happening, so my bits are safe from dangling upside down."Julian.""Darling.""What's this?""A flat white with the abomination you like to add to it.""Honey.""Yes. Disgusting."She lets me in.Lily is on her stomach on the living room rug, head up, gnawing on a yellow plastic ring.She looks at me without interest.I have done nothing entertaining to earn her interest yet and I respect her for withholding it.Natasha takes the coffee and leads the way to the lounge. I follow enjoying the view from behind."How's it going with the garage? Day three today, isn’t it?""Three minutes today. Without Nathaniel in the car.""Darling, that's wonderful!""It's three minutes, calm down.""

(Gloria)I hang up the phone on a long exhale.A minute ago I would have told anyone who asked that I had no idea whether I'd say yes if he calls.Then I said yes without giving it too much thought and I have to admit I was just being precious about it.I'm in sweatpants and a sports bra, hair in the bun I twist when I'm working, makeup eaten off by a fourteen-hour day.I look like a woman who didn't expect company.I have about twelve minutes.I very briefly consider jumping in the shower, or at least fixing my make-up, before deciding fuck it.If he wants me he can have me in the bun. I’m not bending over backwards for anyone anymore.When I open the door it’s immediately obvious that he’s been pushing his hand through his hair repeatedly.Is adorably mussed.His eyes go over me and I see him decide to say nothing, which is the correct decision."Hi.""Hi."I step back. He closes the door himself.Doesn't sit.Stands in the middle of my living room with his hands in his coat pockets

(Mason)Dinner is at a long wooden table with eight people and one dog that’s decided I have the safest pair of legs in the room.Which as everyone knows, is a great honor, and I am the chosen one.The food is fine.Nobody is ever going to be coming here because they couldn’t get enough quinoa and chickpea salad.It’s edible and good for me, I’m okay with that given the other perks.Chloe is sitting across the table from me, having a conversation with a woman named Linda about whether crystals work.Chloe's position is yes, with caveats.They must be naturally occurring and not grown. And harvested at the full moon by virgins in muslin dresses or something.I’m not really listening, I’m too busy watching her.I watch her for most of dinner.She's in a short, swingy dress, those long, tan legs shamelessly seducing me.Hair up off her neck because Sage cooks with a wood fire and it gets warm and stuffy in the hut.She laughs at something Linda says and the dog under the table thumps its

(Piper)Gloria finally texts me on Monday morning.Meet me for coffee at the place on Beverly at 10.No are you available. No if you can make it.Not even a question mark.She knows I’ll be there.I reply fine. No punctuation on my end, either.We’ve known each other for eleven years, and we’re way past using punctuation that costs us pride.If this was good news she would have invited me to dinner. Not coffee in a public place on a weekday morning.My traitorous heart keeps insisting there’s still a chance though.I walk in at nine fifty-seven.She’s already there, a large coffee in front of her.She’s wearing a fitted black pantsuit with a red blouse.She wears red when she wants to portray confidence.Her hair is up in a high bun, which takes forty minutes with her curls. I know because she’s complained about it before.She does that when she’s nervous and needs to keep her mind off whatever’s bothering her for a while.Mostly she just wears it down or in a ponytail.This is defini