Chapter 1
Royal’s latest fling was having another dramatic episode.
He slid the divorce papers across the table. “Just sign them, okay? It’s to keep her happy.”
Clutching the edge of my vintage dress, I nodded silently and scribbled my name.
As I turned to leave, I caught his buddies ribbing him. “Your wife’s way too obedient. You think she’d still nod if you told her to grab the certificate?”
Royal lit a cigarette, smirking. “Care to bet on it?”
They joked that in a month, at the courthouse, I’d be a sobbing wreck but still go through with it, trading our marriage license for divorce papers.
I glanced at my phone, silent. I replied to the message I’d just received: “Why don’t you just marry me?”
“Okay.”
==============================
“Seriously?” came the lightning-fast reply.
I turned off my phone.
Inside, the laughter and chatter didn’t stop.
“Alright then! If the missus is that easygoing, drinks are on me next month!” one of his friends declared.
“Make it three months,” Royal shot back.
“Deal, deal, deal!” they laughed and joked.
I bolted out as fast as I could.
It wasn’t until I stepped outside the office building, into the blinding sunlight, that the tears finally spilled over.
Royal had his sights set on some young girl, barely out of college. He’d set her up in Miami, showering her with designer everything. But she wouldn’t let him touch her.
She lived in a 3,800-square-foot penthouse, draped in custom couture, boldly declaring, “I won’t be the other woman!”
Royal found it all hilarious.
This was the third time he’d pulled a stunt for her.
The first time, he gushed about our love. I had no clue Cataleya even existed back then. Happily, I posed for endless photos with him, thrilled when he posted a collage of us online. Only later did I realize it was set to “Visible to Cataleya only.”
The second time, we fought, and he left me stranded on the street. He snapped pictures of me crying alone and sent them to her. “See? She just can’t let me go.”
The third time, he wanted a divorce.
My phone buzzed again. I checked it.
“Seriously?”
“You’re for real?”
“Amaris Freeman.”
I wiped my tears and managed a small smile. “Yes, seriously.”