After I Stopped Loving Him novel Chapter 94

When her script was finally ready and she was about to start filming, Isabella realized all the actors she’d borrowed had been called back. She scrambled to find replacements, but came up empty. The panic set in, and she knew she’d have to swallow her pride and ask him for help.

Things between them had gotten so tense that Ethan had no plans to go home. Just like before, every night after work he went straight to his other villa, avoiding the house he shared with Isabella. He figured if he ignored her long enough, she’d remember that everything she had was because of him. And honestly, he only put up with it all because of Natalie.

If Isabella disrespected him, he could handle it. But when she disrespected Natalie, that was a different story. Natalie was someone he wanted to protect, someone he couldn’t even bring himself to raise his voice at. What right did Isabella have to treat her own sister-in-law that way?

“Alright, I’ll do what you said,” Frank replied. He was dying to know what was really going on, but since Ethan didn’t want to talk about it, he knew better than to push.

After giving Frank his orders, Ethan sank back into the sofa and closed his eyes, hoping to clear his head. He wasn’t sure if it was the anger or the medicine, but soon he started feeling hot and sweaty. He wiped his forehead, trying to ignore the discomfort, and drifted off.

He dreamed about Isabella and Natalie, arguing loudly. Then Isabella shoved Natalie, and Natalie, so gentle and fragile, fell to the floor with a cry of pain. Ethan’s heart twisted as he shouted, “Isabella Lane!”

He jerked awake, drenched in sweat.

The housekeeper came in from the hallway. “Ethan, Isabella hasn’t come back. Her suitcase isn’t at the door anymore. I checked the security cameras. She came home, grabbed her suitcase, and left again.”

Ethan stood up and wandered around the living room for a bit before stopping by the window. He pushed it open and stared outside, reaching into his pocket for a cigarette. Nothing. He wasn’t wearing a suit today, so he didn’t have his usual pack. He crossed the room, opened a drawer in the coffee table, pulled out a pack, and lit one. Then he went back to the window, cigarette in hand, and watched the world outside.

His dream came back to him, filling him with frustration. Isabella wasn’t like that. She would never push Natalie. Why did his mind have to turn her into the villain, even in his sleep?

He muttered to himself, “Isabella Lane, would it really kill you to just apologize to me? I gave you thirty thousand for spending money and ten million to start your business. Isn’t that enough?”