“Isabella…” Ethan moved toward her.
“You’re busy, Ethan. I’ll leave you alone.” Isabella didn’t give him a chance to argue. She rushed out, worried he might actually lose it and do something she couldn’t handle.
Ethan chased after her, but she was fast. All he caught was the faint brush of her sleeve as she slipped into the hallway. With people around, he couldn’t act like he did when it was just the two of them. Besides, his cheek was still stinging and probably looked swollen from where she’d slapped him.
He stood by the door for a moment, watching her go, then closed it quietly behind him. He headed straight to the kitchenette, rummaged in the freezer until he found an ice pack, then wrapped it in a clean towel from the lounge. He settled onto the couch, pressing the cold pack against his face, not daring to show his embarrassment in the main office. The last thing he needed was someone coming in to see him like this.
Isabella hadn’t held back. She’d said she’d wanted to hit him for ages. Was he really so terrible? Sure, he’d lied to her, but he had so much going for him. Being married to him wasn’t exactly a bad deal. If she didn’t want to be in a loveless marriage, he was more than willing to change that. She was the one pushing him away.
As he sat there, Ethan pulled out his phone and started recording voice messages.
“Isabella, you’re my wife.”
“Don’t talk to me about divorce again. If you do, I swear, I’ll take you to bed and make you my wife for real. No more pretending.”
He hesitated, staring at his phone for a minute or two, then sent one more.



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