Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 344

As expected, she grew even more impatient, stepping straight out of the elevator. “Fine. You wait here. I’ll take a different one.”

“Emma!” He sighed, exasperated, reaching out to grasp her shoulders and gently guiding her back inside. “I just want to see you off.”

“Not necessary.” She pressed the close button.

He knew this was all he’d get from her. Quickly, he jammed his hand between the doors to keep them from shutting. “Then at least take me off your blocked list, so I can send you the files.”

Right in front of him, Emma unlocked his number. “Happy now? If there’s nothing urgent, don’t bother me.”

He had no choice. Pushing any harder would only make her hate him more. Helpless, he watched her close the elevator doors, the red numbers on the display counting down as she descended.

Inside the elevator, Emma pressed her palm to her chest.

This place—her heart—over the past five years had accumulated a thousand tiny splinters. Some days they just ached dully, but sometimes, out of nowhere, the pain would stab deep, leaving her raw and bleeding.

She used to think it would take forever to pull out every last thorn, one by one.

But it turns out, she was wrong.

Today, as she pressed her hand to the place that once hurt so badly, she realized—she didn’t feel a thing.

The truth is, only when you love someone can they really hurt you.

No pain meant no love.

And that felt good. Theodore, I don’t love you anymore. Not one bit. Not at all.

She wasn’t expecting to see Hanley when she stepped out of the elevator.

He was obviously waiting for her.

“Emma,” Hanley greeted, looking awkward. “Do you have a minute for coffee?”

“No.” Emma had never liked any of Theodore’s friends. Without waiting for a reply, she walked on.

“A lifetime together?” What a joke. Who would want a lifetime like that?

Her brother had sent a car to pick her up, and she spotted it parked at the curb as soon as she left the building.

She got in. Home. She didn’t want to linger a second longer.

When she arrived, her brother had already decorated the apartment.

She hadn’t lied to Theodore—her brother really was throwing her a “Happy Divorce” dinner.

She opened the door to a house filled with fresh flowers, balloons, and all things shiny and sparkly. There were guests too: Vivian, Sebastian Remington, Serena Innis, and Renee Chance.

Her brother had insisted she invite them. “It’s a celebration—let’s make it lively!”

Why not? Who said weddings were the only reason to celebrate? Divorce could be too.

Her brother ordered a three-tier cake, lit a single candle, and on the cake it read: “Congratulations, Emmie—Here’s to New Beginnings.”