Stella sat down beside him, carefully watching his expression. She reached for his sleeve, just like she always had.
Every time, as long as she acted spoiled, he would let go of everything.
After all, he loved her, didn’t he?
But this time, her plan failed.
“Stella, this is your last chance,” he said coldly. “If I didn’t have proof, I wouldn’t be here.”
She flinched, her throat tightening. Desperate, she leaned in again, pouting.
“But Martin, you were going to divorce her anyway. I just sped things up. I know I was wrong–don’t be mad at me~”
Her voice was sweet, her usual tactic. But this time, it didn’t work.
“Who said I was getting divorced? Stop making decisions for me!”
He shoved her away, his breathing heavy. Stella stumbled back, falling to the ground.
“Ah!”
Martin stood, ready to leave. Seeing he wouldn’t stay, Stella’s tears finally spilled over.
“If you’re not divorcing her, why did you come to me?”
He paused but didn’t turn back.
“Stella, I only see you as a friend. You misunderstood.”
She laughed, a bitter, hollow sound.
“Friend? Don’t lie to yourself, Martin. Who travels across the world to watch sunrises with a friend? Who abandons his wife over and over for a friend? Who would neglect his wife’s injuries to care for a friend? Who gives away his wife’s gifts to a friend?”
Her voice rose, sharp and accusing.
Chapter 13
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