All Chapters of She Was Never Just the Billionaire’s Wife: Chapter 211 - Chapter 220

(Sonia)The apartment has not grown on me.Whoever wrote the original listing should be shot.It said the place was charming, which apparently just means old.The radiator clanks. The window sticks.The waiter at the cafe down the street still pretends not to recognize me, even though I’m there every morning and always order the same thing.Of all the numbers in my phone, only two people ever text me back.My mother and my stepfather.I know how that sounds. I'm aware.It's the kind of thing I would never have admitted in California.There would have been no need to.In California I had a phone that never stopped chirping.I was the girl people wanted at the thing, because I was beautiful and I was a Morton and I came with access.I confused the access for me.That was a big mistake.It took Paris to show me none of them actually gave a damn about me.Paris has been a hell of an eye-opener and I’d prefer to put the blindfold back on, thank you very much.Hendrik cut my allowance when

(Sonia)I sit on the floor for an hour after I hang up with my mother.Then I do the thing I’ve been putting off for months.I call Nathanial.The phone rings seven times.Just when I’m sure he’s going to let it go to voicemail, he picks up."Sonia."His voice is the same and not the same. Same baritone. Different weather."Hi."He doesn’t say anything, waiting for me to explain why I’m calling."I'm coming home.""That’s nice."Cold enough to give me frostbite."Mom called me. She told me everything. About Will's father. Why she left.""I don’t suppose you care much. You never knew any of them.""Right. Of course."I don't know what I expected.A how are you?An are you all right?Something.Surely he should have thawed a little in the time I’ve been gone. Maybe even missed me some.He doesn't give me anything.He’s decided in advance what this call is going to be, and he’s sticking to that.I decide to try and lighten the tension with a joke."So I'm Natasha's aunt now, technically.

(Natasha)The kitchen light is too bright.The kitchen is too sunny.The world has, overnight, decided to be lit from inside and I hate it.I’m at the island in the same sweatpants I wore to bed, with a glass of water one hand and orange juice in the other, considering the fundamental question of whether to eat anything ever again.Lily is in the bouncer in the corner gnawing the yellow ring with no awareness that her mother is dying.The doorbell goes."No," I say.The doorbell goes again.I get up to open the door.Liam is on the step in a denim jacket that’s wrong for the weather, but looks great, and holding a paper bag from the bakery on the corner."Hi.""Why are you here?""Croissants.""At dawn?""It's eleven, Natasha.""It is not.""It is."I look behind him at the sky as if the sky will arbitrate.The sky agrees with Liam, so I’m forced to let him in.He puts the bag on the island and goes to Lily.Picks her up like a person who knows exactly what he’s doing because he’s don

(Chase)I’ve been back in my corner office at Warren Global for a week and a half now.It doesn’t feel bigger than it used to, but it has a different weight.I’m not sure yet how happy I am about being back in the CEO seat.On the one hand it feels good to be back to making deals and juggling six projects at once.I missed finishing the day instead of letting it finish me.But I loved the freedom of the last few months.The ability to take my daughter to the beach on a whim.Feeding her lunch. Having time to be silly and irresponsible.I’ve enjoyed being a full-time father much more than I’d expected to.I know it’s possible to have both. The world is full of working parents, I just have to make sure to find the balance and keep it.I’m not allowing Lily’s childhood to pass me by.Natasha invited me over for dinner because I kept pestering her for photos and videos of Lily all week.I can’t help it. I’m having withdrawals.She’s the cutest baby in the world and suddenly I’m expected t

(Natasha)The first text comes on Thursday morning.Hi Natasha. It's Sonia. I'd love to talk if you're willing. No pressure. Whenever you’re available.I read it and put the phone face-down on my desk.I don’t reply.The second text comes on Saturday at noon.Hi. I know you probably don’t want to meet up. I'm sorry for being a pest. I'm not going to text again. I just wanted you to know I'm here whenever, if ever, you change your mind.I read it. Put the phone face-down. Make a cup of coffee. Drink it. Look at the phone.I try to keep busy, but my mind keeps wandering back to those damn messages.She says she won’t send another one, but she’s not used to being told no. Eventually she’ll want to just check in again.And no matter what I do, I’m going to keep thinking about it.It’s not that I feel guilty about not wanting to talk to her, I’ve earned that right.But I know how this goes. I’m going to be thinking about Sonia at three in the morning instead of sleeping.It would be better