The soft wind of the night continued to whip my hair to and fro while I stood outside with my suitcase next to me. I was already out of that house, finally. Not quite far ahead into the streets, I noticed the headlights flashing brightly in my direction, and a faint smile quirked up my lips because I recognized who it was in an instant.
The flamboyant red sports car pulled over right in front of where I stood, and an even more flamboyant woman was in the driver's seat twiddling her fingers at me as she wound down the windows.
It was Grace.
Grace was not only my best friend, she was also my business partner. We've been inseparable since our college days. And because we both shared a passion for fashion, we both decided to turn our dreams into reality by co-founding Luxe Vogue, a fashion-forward online shopping website that quickly became a favorite among young trendsetters.
Grace had a keen eye for design, so she was in charge of designing stunning clothing collections, while I focused on designing jewelry at our equally jointly-owned studio, Atelier. Atelier was a high-end fashion studio catering to elite clientele. Our business acumen and creative vision catapulted us into the world of high-ranking millionaires.
I knew right when I saw that grin on her lips that she was going to tease me next. Playful banters for us were as natural as breathing. I stepped into the passenger's seat of Grace's car, sighing and immediately clicking my seatbelt in.
"Finally willing to leave that bastard and return to work?" Grace quipped with a mischievous grin.
"I really don't understand why you would waste three years of your life to be a housewife, taking care of an asshole who doesn't love you at all."
I rolled my eyes, "Because I was blind, but now I can see. Heard of that song?”
Grace chuckled, starting the car. "Well, I'm glad your eyes are wide open now. We've got a whole lot to run, we can't have you distracted by some guy who doesn't appreciate you."
“You know, Sydney, I have to say this again, that whole 'married'...with that guy? I hated it on you!” She glanced briefly at the gate of Mark's house. “Gosh, I've been dying to say that.”
I chuckled, resting my elbow tiredly on the car door, “Oh please. From the onset, Grace had always hated my marriage to Mark. She had tried, in her way, to convey her disapproval, both indirectly and directly. There were times when she would come open about it, and other times, it was more subtle, like the way she would hesitate before congratulating me on another anniversary or the way she would change the subject whenever I brought up something related to my marriage. I was glad we could finally freely talk and make jests about it.
“I mean, what was with all those frumpy dresses and sensible shoes? Eww!”
“Grace!” I laughed again.
“Mr. Wrong really had an influence on your wardrobe? I've never seen you in so much beige in my life. And the day I saw you wearing flats with a cocktail dress, trust me, I nearly died.”
I burst out laughing again, shaking my head, “Oh, come on. You know I was just trying to fit into the whole 'perfect wife' image. Never again.”
“Thank goodness you're back out of that hole.”
I still thought the things she'd said earlier were funny, so I playfully swatted at Grace.
"Hey, but I thought I looked pretty good in those dresses though!"
“Huhn?” Grace funnily raised her upper lip, "Maybe to a blind man.”
This reminded me of a function I had attended with Mark, wearing a dress I'd thought was elegant, which he later deemed too revealing and promiscuous for a wife. Not only did his insults hurt, but what hurt even more was the public humiliation I faced when others witnessed it too. The incident had reached my parents' ears and led to further embarrassment. I think that's when my wardrobe began to change. I'd been trying to please everyone, especially Mark and my parents. What a fool I'd been.
I sighed, “Goodness. I missed us."
Grace nodded. “Yeah, me too,” she said, stepping on the gas pedal, and as she did, the engine roared to life before dashing out into the road and merging into the flow of traffic.
"So, where are we headed now?"
"To the airport, of course. I've got a sudden urge for a short trip."
"Wow, I thought you were going to come over to my place at least for the night or something," Grace remarked.
I shrugged. "Just want to get away for a bit."
Grace leaned back in her seat, resting a hand on the car door while the other stayed on the steering wheel. "Well, needed anyway."
"That reminds me," Grace said, "A company is interested in buying the website. And I kid you not, it's an insane offer. I'm tempted."
"I'm really not in the mood for work right now. We'll talk about that when I return," I said, glancing at Grace. Grace nodded understandingly. "Totally get it.”
I really needed this trip, to get my mind out for a bit, to revel in my freedom from Mark and the suffocating routine I had fallen into. I knew my parents were going to be mad; they always were when I tried to break loose from their demanding decisions. But I couldn't even care less for whatever was to come. The thought of finally leaving everything behind was just liberating.
Grace pulled into the airport. As the car came to a stop, I unclicked my seatbelt and reached for my handbag, eagerly taking out my phone. I dialed a number and held the phone to my ear.
"I'm here now, where are you?" I spoke first. "Alright, alright," I added as the receiver responded before ending the call.
Grace looked at me curiously. "Who was that?" she asked.
"You'll see," I grinned cryptically. Grace gave me a suspicious look, but didn't probe me any further.
While we waited in the car, a man in a sharp suit approached the car, carrying a briefcase. Immediately recognizing him, I told Grace, “Wait here," before getting out of the car to meet him.
"Good evening," He greeted me professionally and I returned the pleasantries with a nod.
He was the lawyer I had called earlier to help draft the divorce papers.
The lawyer opened his briefcase and took out an envelope containing the papers. While he did, I glanced back at the car and saw Grace watching curiously.
“Here,” he handed me the papers. I glanced through them one after the other, feeling an overwhelming feeling of finality wash down on me.
"Do you need some more time to go through them?" The man asked. I shook my head, determined. "No, where do I sign?"
He pointed to various areas on the pages, "Here, here," flipping through them, "over here and here," he directed. Then, he handed me a pen.
I signed each page and spot that required my signature. Finally handing the papers back to him along with the pen.
"I'll have Mr. Torres receive a copy as well and will send yours too,” he said as he placed the papers back in his briefcase.
“You can have them sent to my mail.”
“Will do,” he said.
I nodded, “Thanks,” shaking his hand.
"It's my job," he replied, smiling.
As I got back into the car and shut the door after me, I let out a heavy sigh. It felt kind of warmer in the car compared to outside.
Grace looked at me, immediately asking, "So, are you going to kill my curiosity now?"
I looked at her and replied, "That was the lawyer. I signed the divorce papers."
Grace's eyes widened, and she let out a dramatic scream, "Are you crazy? You're actually giving up on asking him for alimony? He's a billionaire, you could get a hundred million in alimony!"
I chuckled bitterly, "It doesn't matter. I just want to divorce him as soon as possible! I'm a millionaire by myself; I don't need him to raise my value."
Grace shook her head, "But still, a hundred million…” she looked so pained, so much so I nearly chuckled.
I shrugged, "Let him keep his money to himself; we're bigger than that anyway. I just want to move on with my life."
“Aww, girl. I totally get it.” Grace reached out and squeezed my hand, "I'm here for you, no matter what."
“And that's all that matters to me,” I smiled and squeezed her hand in return. We must have looked like two typical best friends acting in some kind of soap opera for a minute.
Grace snapped us out of our little emotional moment. "Alright, let's get your things," she said, getting out of the car to help me pull my suitcase from the backseat and raising the handle tall.
"Tell all the eligible bachelors in town, the Queen is back!" I announced loudly into the wind
"Woo-hoo! The Queen is back, everyone!" Grace hooted after me.
MARK POVI pulled into the driveway, exhausted. Another long day of both work and fun had left me drained, and all I wanted was to unwind and relax. I stepped out of the car and loosened my tie, eager to get inside and finally relax. When I entered the house, I saw Sydney sitting there, staring at me with her usual blank look. I barely spared her a glance while heading straight for my study."I want a divorce," Sydney said before I could even reach the sanctuary of my study.Divorce? Ridiculous was the first word that came to my mind, and ridiculous it was indeed. The family business of Sydney's parents had been lent to the GT Group, which I owned. This was a contract that benefited both parties in every sense of the word. Sydney was only a woman I'd married, who depended on her parents and me for survival.Divorce, huh? It was obviously her new way of crying for attention, like she was fond of doing. It used to be the pitiful demeanor she carried around her, which was enough to convi
SYDNEY'S POVAs soon as I returned to the airport, I could already see Grace waving eagerly at me from the other side. Enthusiastic smiles and grins curled up my lips the closer I got to her. My short trip had come to an end, and might I say that those were the happiest three months of my life in a very long time.I wheeled my suitcase faster behind me and rushed, also waving back at Grace and rushing to meet her where she was standing. I hadn't noticed for a second at first, but someone familiar walked quickly past me. I couldn't help stopping to turn; I could swear I knew that back. No one could tell me otherwise, it had to be Mark. It was him.I was right, I confirmed with myself when I actually stopped and turned back to look at the person. It was Mark, I couldn't have missed it, walking with those fast strides of his as usual. He probably didn’t see me? Or if he maybe didn't recognize me again? I'd been gone for just three months, but if that was enough time for him not to know w
SYDNEY'S POVI threw that damn agreement into the shredder," he spat. "I've already canceled an important meeting for you, I can't waste any more time."He hadn't changed one bit. He was still that angry, impatient man I'd left behind who thought the world revolved around him. Rather, “my world”. If he didn't want his time wasted, why the hell did he follow me back there?Whether he threw the documents into the shredder, or burnt them to ashes with a lighter from his study, or kept them somewhere, none of that was my business.I stepped back from the door and stared angrily at his face."My intention to divorce you is serious and solemn. If you don't accept a divorce by agreement, then I will have to file a lawsuit for divorce. That will only waste more of your “precious” time, Mr. Man!" I made that much clear.At a point, my mind would slide back to think about the man who was probably still hiding somewhere in the house. I was also standing in front of the door and making sure to bl
MARK'S POVI groaned as I turned in bed. My head throbbed dully and I held it as I slowly rose from the bed. I looked at my surroundings and wondered why I was at home. I should be at work.I dropped my head in my hands and tried to remember. It didn't even take a second before the memories rushed back.My assistant had been able to locate where Sydney was and I had left every work I was doing to speak some sense into her. I remember that I had ordered her to follow me then…I frowned. Everything had gone black."That witch! How dare she hit me?" I gritted as I got off the bed. I glimpsed some medication on the drawers as I staggered out of my room.What was wrong with her? Why was she taking this far? I thought.The sound of wood banging against walls reverberated through the house as I threw every door open."Where the heck is she?!"The staff of my household just stood there speechless. Some of them flinched each time the door banged.I had asked where she was about a dozen times a
SYDNEY'S POVI couldn't stop the laugh that burst out of me as I took in the fourth special order for the day.Usually, Atelier receives a bunch of orders on a daily basis, and our employees take care of these orders. But if the jewelry order were to be custom made, the orders came directly to me.Right there on my screen was an order for two pieces of jewelry from Mark's assistant. It had been included in the preference space for it to 'stand out' from any of our jewelries, then he ended it with 'just name your price'.Typical. Only Mark would be so egotistic to make a request sound insulting. It was Mark's assistant that placed the order, but I was sure the order was on behalf of Mark. There was no way his assistant would be able to afford Atelier's custom-made designs for himself.I swiveled in my chair, whistling, "Time to make some extra millions."I turned back to my laptop's screen and reread the last phrase. My grin widened, "Oh. I am so going to name my price."Briefly, I won
MARK'S POVA knock came on my door."Come in," I called out without tearing my eyes away from the files before me.I heard the smooth creak of the door as it was opened. My assistant's voice drifted to me, "Luxe Vogue has replied, sir.""Hmm," I hummed, and nodded. "When will the necklaces be ready?""It's not about the necklace, sir. It's about the acquisition offer we sent them."I looked up and pushed my chair back. "Oh, really. When are we meeting to finalize the handover of the website?" I asked.It had been a coincidence that Atelier is partnered with the website I've had my eyes on for the past months. Their response hadn't come for months, but I had been relentless. I kept instructing my assistant to keep sending them emails.After Bella had left, I had searched about Atelier myself and damn! Bella was right. They made stunning jewelry. The quality of their stones was top-notch. It had filled me with pride and reassured me that acquiring the website was a good decision. It wou
I kept struggling, pulling at my hands and cussing out as Mark pulled me to the hallway, right beside the male section restroom. I stumbled after him, unable to keep up with his pace in my heels.Even in my wildest dream, I wouldn't have thought I might run into him here. I mean, in our three years of unfortunate marriage, I could count the number of times on the fingers of one hand I had seen him elsewhere apart from home. I had assumed he was always at work then recently, I concluded that he was either at work or in some fancy hotel fucking my sister."Mark, what is wrong with you?" I hit his fingers wrapped around my wrist with my free hand, "Let go of my hand."He didn't say anything, he just stormed ahead, his back rigid.Ever since I proposed the divorce, he seemed to have become a ghost out to hunt and haunt me, appearing everywhere I was.I let out a low groan as he slammed my back to a wall and pinned me to it. The depth of his deep blue eyes were fathomless and they had turn
I would have loved the rough way in which his lips kneaded mine, and I would have kissed him back with equal fervor if it was someone else. But this wasn't some stranger or lover of mine. It was Mark.I struggled between pulling him to me and pushing him away. I wanted to clamp my teeth on his tongue or lips as I did the first time, but I couldn't bring myself to. This feeling was confusing. I wanted him to stop and go far away from me, but, insanely, I was scared that he would actually stop. It was crazy.But I still struggled, and as I did, my eyes squeezed shut. I tried to speak even with his lips on mine. His tongue, somehow, made its way into my mouth. His body pressed on mine, and I could faintly feel the bulge in his trousers against my thighs.My struggles doubled, and a scream rose in my chest.My scream died in my throat because suddenly, his hands were off me, and I couldn't feel his body heat anymore.I brushed off the tiny tinge of disappointment and looked up to find a w