Chapter 57
“Emma! You really are asking for trouble lately, aren’t you?” There was a sharp edge to his voice, eyes flickering with irritation.
She couldn’t help thinking that his temper had been running high too. The
once–unflappable Mr. Whitman had all but vanished, thanks in no small part to
Cecilia.
“So I guess I misjudged you.” He gave her a look. “All this time, I thought you were gentle, understanding, reasonable… Turns out you’re actually quite the handful. Just look at Cici-”
“I won’t. You go ahead and look all you want, take an extra peek for me,” she interrupted quickly, unwilling to hear him praise Cecilia yet again.
He’d been shut down by her more than once lately, and his patience was starting to
wear thin. “Fine. Don’t regret it when I do.”
This time, Emma really did put on her headphones, blocking him out.
He drove her to the apartment complex and pulled over. “I’ve got a meeting. Tonight—”
She was already halfway out the door, slamming it shut behind her. Whatever he had planned for the evening, she didn’t care to hear.
That night, Fallon made spicy crab for dinner. Emma didn’t touch it, picking at the vegetables before excusing herself and heading to her room to check flights. She booked a ticket to the capital.
Going straight to the capital without telling Theodore–she figured that would be fine.
A little after nine, an email came in: her 1-20 form was ready. That was fast…
Emma felt a rush of joy, ticking off each requirement as she filled out the forms, double–checking what else she’d need.
By eleven, she heard the front door. Theodore was home,
She quickly shut her laptop and sprawled on the bed, pretending to scroll through her phone. She could hear him talking to Fallon in the hallway.
“I told you to make something Emma likes. Why’d you go with spicy again?”
“She said… spicy was fine,” Fallon stammered, clearly nervous.
“And she didn’t touch a bite?”
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Chapter 57
“No, sir…”
“Just get me some dinner.”
A few minutes later, Theodore came into the bedroom. His tie was off, the top button of his shirt undone, sleeves rolled up to his forearms.
“Not coming out to eat with me?” he asked as he walked in.
It seemed whatever anger he’d had earlier had dissipated.
For five years, he’d always come home late–sometimes skipping dinner altogether. But on the nights he did eat at home, even if it was late, she used to treat it like a celebration. She’d flutter around him, fixing his plate, pouring his soup, fussing over him as if she could never do enough.
But what did all her effort amount to, really?
Maybe, in the end, it just annoyed him.
“What did you eat tonight?” he asked. “There’s no need for Fallon to cater to your tastes anymore. Tell her to make whatever you prefer.”
Did he really think she’d asked for spicy crab to please him?
He dragged a chair over and sat by the bed. “Emma…”
What now?
He pulled out his phone and, right in front of her, tapped out a few things. Moments later, her phone buzzed–a notification of a hefty transfer.
“Those rings–Cici really likes them. Since you pawned them off, I decided to give them to her. Here, take this and buy yourself something you actually want.”
So that was it. No wonder he was suddenly being so agreeable.
She turned away from him, replying with a nonchalant, “Okay.”
Day 25 of the countdown to leaving Theodore: even our wedding rings have been given away. But honestly, I don’t want him anymore. Why would I care about the rings?
“You’re being awfully compliant today,” he said, his tone softening. “I was going to buy them back for you, but clearly, you never liked anything I picked out anyway.”
“It’s fine,” she said simply.
“So obedient?” he let out a relieved sigh. “Cici likes to post photos. She’s just a kid at
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Chapter 57
heart. Don’t let it bother you.”

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