HIS STRIPPER, HIS WIFE novel Chapter 116

Chapter one hundred and sixteen

Bianca

The phone kept buzzing in my hand, his name sitting right there on the screen, calling like nothing had happened, like the whole world hadn’t just found out he was getting engaged to a woman I had never even heard of until a few hours ago.

“Why the fuck is he calling me?” I muttered under my breath, glaring at the screen like it had personally offended me. I hissed, the kind of hiss my mother would have scolded me for in public if she was alive, and tapped the red button to silence the call.

I stood there in front of the office building for a second, badge still in my hand, watching the screen go dark again. Part of me wanted to throw the phone across the parking lot. The other part of me, the part I hated more, wanted to pick up and hear whatever excuse he had cooked up. I shoved both urges down and walked back inside instead.

The rest of the day moved fast after that, almost too fast, like the universe knew I needed the distraction and decided to throw every single task at me at once. Fittings for the new autumn line, a mix up with design orders that had everyone. running around the studio floor, Rae asking me three different times if I could help proof a design brief before it went out. By the time I actually looked up from my desk again, it was already past five and my legs ached from being on my feet the whole afternoon.

I didn’t think about Adrian again until I was in the cab home, staring out the window at the city lights blinking past, and even then I only allowed myself a few seconds before I forced my mind elsewhere. There would be time to fall apart later, just not now, not in a cab with a stranger driving.

When I got to the apartment, I could already hear the loud thump of music coming from Emma’s room before I even got the front door fully open. I smiled, at least someone in this house was having a normal evening.

I dropped my bag by the door and looked around the living room for a second, three rooms now, furniture that actually matched and curtains hat weren’t held up with tape. Everything in its place, clean, ours, paid for with money I had earned with my own two hands and not a single cent from anyone else.

“Is this enough to be happy about and not fuss around or cry for any man?” I asked myself quietly, standing there in the middle of the living room like an idiot talking to furniture. I didn’t get an answer, obviously, but I let myself smile at the question anyway before heading toward my room.

I had barely gotten my shoes off and my bag down on the chair when the door opened without a knock. Emma, of course. There was nobody else that could come in.

I opened my mouth, ready to pull the same tired trick I always used on her, the big smile, the everything is fine act, the one that had worked on her since she was small enough for me to trick easily but she beat me to it.

“I saw the news,” Emma said, arms crossed, eyes already scanning my face like she was looking for cracks. “Are you okay?”

I smiled anyway, because the last thing I wanted was to break down in front of my sister over a man, of all things, especially not after everything we had been through to get to this life that finally felt like ours.

“Yes, I am baby,” I said, keeping my voice light. “Do I even have a choice?”

“You sound like someone who had given up from the beginning.” She tilted her head, “did you even like my friend at all?”

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