Chapter 8
Amanda moved into one of Marcus’s mansions.
Her mom got proper care too.
She didn’t have to work-just got five hundred grand deposited every month.
He wanted to give her way more, but between her mom’s two hundred thousand in medical bills and me being around, he held back a little.
But he barely came home anymore.
Even did his work over at her place.
Amanda got interested and started whining about wanting to work like a real career woman.
Marcus couldn’t say no to her, so he stuck a desk in his office. But Amanda wasn’t happy with that-said it didn’t feel like a real workplace.
So Marcus had her work with his assistant instead.
Everyone had to kiss her ass and treat her like royalty-nobody dared piss her off.
She became his plus-one to all the fancy events too.
Actually made my life way easier.
Since Marcus and I stopped going places together, people gradually stopped calling me Mrs. Sinclair and started saying Ms. Whitmore, or just Isabella.
Amanda was loving it, thought she’d gotten the wife title.
At some party, I ran into that guy who’d gotten in a fight with Marcus.
He’d helped Amanda out at the nightclub before, so they were tight.
But he kept giving me dirty looks and trying to embarrass me in front of everyone.
After putting up with that for a while, I tanked his company and grabbed some shares from his dad’s business.
Now even his dad was kissing my feet.
Scared I’d get moody and sell those shares to some other major investor.
Two years later, I’d completely separated my business interests from the Sinclairs.
One night, the Whitmore Group’s official account posted that Marcus and I were getting divorced.
Marcus tracked me down while I was vacationing at the beach.
My uncle had set me up with this young model who was rubbing sunscreen on me.
The kid was young but gorgeous.
Way better service than Marcus ever gave me.
But Marcus wasn’t in the mood to deal with that right now-came at me all cold, asking, “How come I didn’t know about this divorce thing?”
“Well, you know now, don’t you?”
“Isabella!”
He grabbed my hand and yanked me up, totally pissed.
“Why do you have to blow everything up like this? What’s in it for you? I told you-you’re the only one I love.”
Totally ridiculous. I pointed at the model standing politely over there.
Marcus, you think I’m that desperate for your love?”
Those eyes that used to light up when they saw me were all cloudy now-could only see my reflection in them, nothing else.
I sighed.
“Marcus, forget about everything else-I gotta admit you were the person I trusted most. You knew what I liked, you got my pain and sadness, you understood me better than anyone. I used to think we were family, but now I think this is as far as we go.”
Those last words finally ripped open the past I never wanted to remember.
When I was five, I stupidly told Mom that Dad and my tutor had their mouths touching. That night Mom went crazy and had this huge fight with Dad, then she dragged him down with her.
The maid said it was my big mouth that got my parents killed before she quit.
So I stopped talking to people,
And I got really bad bipolar disorder and depression.
But Marcus didn’t give a shit what anyone said.
He held my hand at the funeral, went with my uncle to take me to therapy.
Sometimes when they had to draw blood, he’d roll up his sleeve and show his skinny little arm.
‘Isabella, if you’re scared you can bite me. I’m a boy, I’m not scared.”
So every time during treatment when the nurse stuck me, I’d bite Marcus while my uncle cracked up watching.
Later when I grew up, my uncle got caught cheating on his wife. Even though they didn’t divorce, my aunt never had that sweet young look in her eyes again.
Even with my uncle groveling, she stayed cold.
She told me never to make the same choice she did.
I’m a Whitmore daughter. I’ve got two uncles who are rich as hell. I’ve got endless backup plans.
But she’s different. She’s already sitting in that spot with no way to get down.
repeated what my aunt once told me, word for word.
Men never own up to their mistakes. They just pile lie on top of lie to cover their tracks, over and over until they die.”
Marcus went white as a sheet, tears just falling down his face.
Even with the sun blazing, he still looked on edge-like each bright ray was a tiny thorn, pricking at his back till he couldn’t stand still.
You’re never gonna forgive me, are you?”
I didn’t say anything. Just had someone print out all those messages Amanda had sent me, all their cute couple photos, put them in a folder, and handed it to
iim.
‘Marcus, if you ever loved me even a little bit, just sign it.”
That night, warm wind was blowing in while I sat at my computer, totally satisfied watching Marcus finish signing the divorce papers.
Between what I’d gotten during our marriage and splitting half of everything now, it was enough to really hurt the Sinclairs.
No way he could take his family’s business to the next level now.
All he could do was watch me lead the Whitmores higher and higher.
To heights he’d never reach.
The night breeze was gentle, waves still crashing.
And I wasn’t that little girl who needed to bite Marcus’s arm to deal with pain anymore.
