All Chapters of Divorce Suits Me Better: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

(Sabrina’s POV)Cortlandt Yards was heat and noise and Nate Cooper’s forearms, and I hated how much of my morning I spent noticing the third thing.He had his sleeves shoved to his elbows and a white hard hat pushed back off his forehead, and the sun had already found him, turning his skin warm and gold everywhere his collar hung open.There was concrete dust along his jaw. I wanted to reach up and brush it off with my thumb. I curled my fingers into my palm instead and kept walking.My own hair was pulled back under a hard hat two sizes too big, sweat gathering at my hairline, my vest stretched tight over a belly that hadn’t fit into anything normal in weeks.Frank Diaz trailed us with a clipboard, calling out numbers I only half heard. My whole attention kept snagging on the four feet of gravel between me and my ex-husband.“Here.” I stopped at the east wall and pressed two fingers to the seam where new concrete met old. “This part still needs work before Thursday.”Nate stepped in

(Sabrina’s POV)The ceiling was moving. White rectangles sliding past, one after another, the bright lights making me squint.“Get me a line in, BP’s dropping—”“Eighty over fifty, she needs fluids now—”A needle stung the back of my hand. Something cold started climbing up my arm toward my shoulder. A blood pressure cuff squeezed my left arm tight enough to bruise, and someone pressed a fetal monitor across my belly.The room filled with the baby’s heartbeat and I grabbed the edge of the gurney with my free hand.“The baby,” I croaked at whoever was closest. “Is the baby okay?”“Heartbeat’s beautiful, ma’am. One-forty, nice and steady. Try to hold still for me.”I pressed my palm over the monitor and felt the baby kick against my hand. My eyes burned as I lay there, counting kicks until all I could hear was the thumping and my own ragged breathing and, somewhere past the curtain, a phone ringing and ringing and ringing.The last thing I remembered clearly was gravel. Gravel and heat

(Alexis’s POV)Mara’s apartment was a third-floor walk-up in Chelsea.She had a green velvet couch from a vintage shop on Ninth Avenue. It was not the Cooper house. There were no marble floors or a thirty-foot foyer, nor a closet the size of this living room.Still, it was warm, and it was hers, so lately I kept finding reasons to be here instead of anywhere else.We were on the couch with the second bottle of wine open between us. Mara had her legs thrown across my lap, bare feet, chipped red polish on her toes. She was wearing an old Bryn Mawr sweatshirt and cotton shorts, her dark hair half-undone from its bun, loose strands falling against her neck.She was laughing so hard she had to lean forward and set her glass on the coffee table before she dropped it.“The JACKET,” she gasped. “Alexis. Oh my God. The jacket.”“I was aiming for HER—”“You hit Charlie!” Mara pressed both hands over her mouth, her shoulders shaking. “The biggest man in the entire room. He looked down at it. He

(Nate’s POV)Felix found me in the cafeteria at four in the morning.I was at a corner table with a coffee I wasn’t drinking. He came across the room and sat down across from me without a word. Charlie followed a minute later. He put a paper cup on the table, pulled out the chair on my left, and lowered himself into it. He started stirring his coffee with a little wooden stick and didn’t stop for the rest of the conversation.“Funny thing,” Felix said. He leaned back and hooked one ankle over his knee. His hair was pushed off his forehead and he looked very pleased with himself. “You’re always around when something goes wrong with her.”“I was at the site because it’s my project.”“Sure. And the gala was the foundation. And France was the ceremony.” Felix tilted his head. “And tonight you beat all five of us to the hospital.”“I called Eric.”“You did.” He smiled. “You’ve got a real pattern going, is what I’m saying.”Charlie stirred his coffee. “He’s kidding.”“I’m not.”“He’s mostly

(Sabrina’s POV)They discharged me on a Wednesday.Adrian signed the papers. Charlie brought the car around. Eric was on the phone in the corridor with someone from Cortlandt about the site inspection, one hand pressed to his temple, muttering yes and no in a tone that made me pity whoever was on the other end.Felix was next to me in the wheelchair, walking slow so the orderly could keep up, and he had spent the entire walk making me laugh about the man in the next room whose wife smuggled fried chicken to him under her coat.“Tomorrow,” I told Felix, “I am going to eat like a normal person. There is nothing anyone can do to stop me.”“There is one thing,” Adrian said behind me.“No there isn’t.”“There’s a doctor. He signs paperwork. He revokes people.”“You can’t revoke a person, Adrian.”“Watch me.”Felix was grinning. I was grinning. The double doors slid open and the cold hit my face and I understood, at last, that I was out.Desmond was waiting by the car.He wasn’t leaning aga