Hannah I couldn’t help but bark out a laugh at Noah’s ridiculous request. “Call off the divorce?” I echoed, shaking my head slowly as my amusement faded into disbelief. “You can’t be serious.” Noah’s jaw clenched, his gaze hardening. “I am completely serious, Hannah. This divorce could jeopard
Noah’s jaw went slack as I pressed my left hand into his chest, the other working at his belt. His hands curled up into fists around the sheets, just like mine had so many countless times. I could see his obvious arousal tenting the fabric of his trousers, straining for friction and release. “But
Hannah I slipped my feet into a pair of black flats and smoothed my hands over the pale yellow dress I had chosen for the day. It was a little tighter and more revealing than I would normally wear, but I wanted to make an impression—both on Drake and on anyone else who might be watching. Noah wa
I was an engaged listener, laughing at all the right moments and politely sipping my coffee. To any outsiders who were listening, we were like old friends spending time together. Eventually, though, the curious bystanders seemed to lose interest. The restaurant began to thin out, and finally, our
Hannah As soon as I stepped through the front door, Noah was there waiting for me like a guard dog on duty, his arms crossed over his chest and a stern expression etched onto his face. “There you are,” he said, his tone clipped. “I trust you had a good time gallivanting around town with your new
Hannah With the ruined charm bracelet clenched in my fist, I stormed down the hallway toward Noah’s office, fury rising in my chest with every step. How dare he? How dare he rifle through my private belongings and defile that gift in such a callous, petty manner? “When did he even…?” I hissed to
Hannah Viona and I stepped out of the nail salon, freshly manicured and ready to take on the world—or at the very least, a tedious dinner engagement with my soon-to-be ex-husband and his would-be mistress. “That color looks perfect on you,” Viona said, admiring her glossy pink nails as we stroll
But no amount of fussing could disguise the truth. I knew deep down this wasn’t a question of an ill-fitting dress—it was my own body that was the problem, soft and ugly and— “Hannah? You okay?” “Fine!” I squeaked out, my head spinning as I hastily unzipped the dress and tore it off over my head