He Thought I’d Cry I Broadcast Their Affair novel Chapter 34

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Chapter 8

When I came to Manhattan at eighteen, I was full of hope and dreams of making it my home.

But after a decade of ups and downs, I found myself missing where I came from.

After wrapping up all the loose ends, I headed back to my hometown in California.

Back when we got engaged, it wasn’t just the Harper family who disapproved–my parents weren’t thrilled either.

Luke had flown back and forth through all four seasons, landing and taking off countless times, trying to convince them to trust him with their daughter.

After visiting my parents, I set my sights on New York for the next chapter.

If you don’t keep moving, your brain dies.

My education and experience wouldn’t let me waste the rest of my life doing nothing.

In my early days with the Harper family, I couldn’t even hold a wine glass properly at formal dinners.

Back then Luke would stand behind me, and his influence was enough to keep

ple from laughing at me.

But I refused to be anyone’s joke, and eventually I learned to hold my own with all those socialite wives.

When I started my company in San Francisco, I had no shame about using the Harper name and Luke’s connections to get ahead and solve problems.

With plenty of capital and contacts, I nailed down every detail within a month.

Besides work, I also worked on myself.

I had to admit that even though that marriage was completely toxic, I still dealt with emotional backlash after the

divorce.

Sometimes I’d wake up in the middle of the night feeling like I was floating, with this hollow emptiness in

that left me ungrounded.

During those seven years of marriage, especially the last three, I’d been like an empty shell.

Now I needed to slowly fill that shell back up–both the psychological void and the blank spaces in my life.

my chest

I threw myself into reinventing myself through reading, traveling, and socializing, becoming more like my old self again.

nedeact Their Affair

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Chapter 8

Once you find the strength to lift yourself up, all those past struggles start looking like decorative touches.

One day, my phone rang, and when I answered, the voice had a familiar accent.

“Ma’am, it’s me–Secretary Stone.” He was talking fast. “Mr. Harper’s drunk and insisting I call you to ask what kind of hangover medicine he should take. He says the wrong kind could kill him.”

I could hear mumbling in the background. “Tell her to come back…”

I glanced at the number. “Secretary Stone-”

“Yes ma’am, go ahead. Oh right, Mr. Harper wants you to come back to Manhattan. When are you coming back?”

My voice was flat. “I’ve been so busy I forgot to block you, Secretary Stone.”

“What-” Before he could finish, the line went dead.

When he tried calling back, he realized he was blocked and deleted.

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