After I Stopped Loving Him novel Chapter 9

The bodyguard riding shotgun looked completely bewildered. Without a word, he unbuckled his seatbelt, ready to give up his seat for Isabella.

The other bodyguard, sitting next to Isabella, leaned in and whispered, “Isabella, I think Ethan wants you in his car.” Even though Ethan didn’t love her, showing up separately would only make people suspicious.

Isabella opened the door and climbed out, calling back over her shoulder, “I’ll give it a shot. If he yells at me, you’re covering my therapy bills.”

The bodyguard just stared at her, lost for words.

Isabella approached Ethan’s car with caution, lightly tapping on the window. Ethan rolled it down, his face set in a cold, unreadable line.

She flashed a playful, almost ingratiating smile. “Ethan, when you told me to get over here, can you be more specific next time? Am I supposed to get in your car, or take the front seat in the other one?”

Without warning, Ethan reached out and flicked her forehead.

“Get in.”

She rubbed the sore spot, frowning. He hadn’t held back, and it actually stung.

“Fine,” she muttered, annoyed. He could have just said what he meant, but instead, he got mad at her for asking. If her IQ ever dropped, she decided, it would be on him, and he’d have to pay for it.

Walking around the car, Isabella slipped into the seat beside him. She kept a careful distance, making sure not to touch him at all. Even back when he was pretending to like her, he never so much as brushed her hand. He always said he was a gentleman, that he wouldn’t touch her before marriage. She’d believed him, and that blind trust had led her straight to this dead end.

“Isabella Lane.” His voice was cold. “Stop pretending. Whatever you’re trying to do, it won’t work. I will never love you.”

She met his eyes, her voice steady. “What am I pretending? What am I planning? I already know you don’t love me. You said you only married me so you could go to the Lane house and see that woman you actually care about. I haven’t forgotten.”

“You can’t force love, not from you, not from anyone. Since you don’t want me, I won’t force it either. You want me to be Mrs. Adams and nothing more, fine. I won’t expect anything else. But,” she added, her tone unyielding, “don’t even think about short-changing me.”

She grabbed his hand and pulled it off her chin, rubbing her sore jaw as she spoke, cool and calm. “Ethan, believe it or not, I’m done with you. The moment you told me the real reason you married me, my feelings died.”

“So don’t worry. I won’t ask for anything more. Except for money, obviously. If you want me to play along with your act, you’ll have to pay for it every time.”