No Sex for Six Years Because of Her? I'm Done novel Chapter 11

**TITLE: My Heart Waited Too Long and Choosing Freedom**

“Ms. Harlow,” the agent began, his tone casual yet persuasive, “that place is empty anyway. It won’t take long for us to check it out. If you find it appealing, I can have another word with the owner. I promise to negotiate a good price for you.”

Amelia hesitated for a moment, pondering the idea. She had yet to encounter anything that truly captured her interest, but what harm could there be in taking one more look? With a slight nod of agreement, she decided to follow him.

As they approached the small villa nestled within Maplewood Estate, Amelia felt a flicker of intrigue. It was far more inviting than she had anticipated.

The structure wasn’t ostentatious or overly grandiose; rather, it exuded a charm that was both simple and modern, painted a pristine white that gleamed under the sun.

Pushing the door open, she stepped inside and was greeted by a spacious interior devoid of excessive furnishings. The openness of the space, flooded with natural light, made it feel airy and vibrant.

The layout on the first floor was ideal for her needs; she envisioned it transforming seamlessly into a reception area and a gown display room without the need for extensive renovations.

But what truly captivated Amelia was the sight that awaited her in the backyard. As she approached the floor-to-ceiling windows, her breath caught in her throat. A riot of blue-purple bluebells danced in the garden, their vibrant hues igniting memories of her childhood.

Once upon a time, they had been her absolute favorite flowers.

Yet, as she took in the scene, her heart sank slightly. The garden had been neglected for far too long; the beautiful blooms were nearly suffocated by a tangle of wild weeds.

Despite that, a sense of satisfaction washed over Amelia. She was beginning to see the potential in this place.

Returning to the living room, she turned to the agent with a question that had been weighing on her mind. “What’s the rent range for this villa?”

“Ms. Harlow, just a moment. I’ll reach out to the owner right away and get back to you,” the agent replied, his professionalism unwavering.

Meanwhile, Mason’s secretary, seated at her desk, received the agent’s call shortly thereafter.

“Hello, are you Mr. Everett’s assistant? There’s a prospective tenant interested in renting the Maplewood Estate villa for a gown studio. I’d like to confirm the pricing…”

The secretary listened attentively, her gaze drifting occasionally to the desk where Mason sat, absorbed in reviewing documents.

Mason paused for a fraction of a second, his ears perked up, though his eyes remained glued to the papers before him.

The secretary, sensing the tension in the air, asked the agent, “And what’s your client’s name?”

“She’s Ms. Harlow.”

In that instant, the secretary’s demeanor shifted. “Ms. Harlow…” she echoed, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Let me confirm with Mr. Everett. Please hold.”

She hung up and approached Mason’s desk, where she relayed the information in a hushed tone. “Mr. Everett, the agent just called. It seems Ms. Harlow is interested in renting the Maplewood Estate for her studio.”

Mason’s hands stilled, and a contemplative expression crossed his face.

He remained silent, his thoughts swirling like a tempest within him.

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