She’s Done. He’s Breaking novel Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Tristan’s demeanor was as cold as ice. After offering a brief greeting to Yelena, he strode out of the room without even acknowledging Stella’s presence. The silence between them was palpable, a chasm that seemed to widen with each passing moment.

Yelena, on the other hand, unleashed her fury on Stella, her voice laced with scorn and disdain. “You think you can just waltz in here and take my son from me?” she spat, her eyes blazing with anger. After a few more cutting remarks, she stormed off, her heels clicking sharply against the floor as she left. Lily and Freya, ever loyal to Yelena, trailed behind her, casting disdainful glances at Stella as they exited.

Left alone in the aftermath of the confrontation, Stella found herself staring blankly at the ceiling, her mind racing. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves, before turning toward her bedroom. The tension in the air was suffocating, and she needed to escape it, even if just for a moment.

From the tone of Yelena’s voice, it was clear to Stella that Tristan had not shared their plans for divorce with his mother. If he had, Yelena’s fury would have been replaced with a different kind of outrage—one that might have included disbelief or sorrow. Instead, she was simply incensed, as if Stella were a mere obstacle in her path. After all, in just two months, Stella would no longer hold the title of daughter-in-law, rendering Yelena’s anger somewhat moot.

With a sigh, Stella changed her clothes, opting for something more comfortable. She needed to feel at ease, if only for a little while. As she stepped out into the living room, she encountered Lily and Freya once again. Their contemptuous glares pierced through her, but she chose to ignore them, determined not to let their negativity affect her.

Dragging her suitcase behind her, she made her way to the elevator, her heart heavy with the weight of her circumstances. As the doors slid shut, she felt a strange sense of finality wash over her.

In the garage, her Audi—a wedding gift from Gary—stood out like a sore thumb amidst Tristan’s collection of luxury vehicles. The sleek, expensive car was a reminder of a life that seemed to belong to someone else entirely. It was a stark contrast to the opulence surrounding it, much like her own existence felt in relation to Tristan’s.

Arriving at the office, Stella dove into her responsibilities, coordinating the handover of her tasks with the other staff members. Sheila, with her sharp tongue and disdainful attitude, made her presence known with veiled jabs and snide comments. Yet, Stella was determined to rise above it all, refusing to let Sheila’s negativity derail her focus.

As the clock ticked past office hours, Stella remained behind, tackling the mountain of work Tristan had assigned her. She knew he wouldn’t even glance at it, but she felt a sense of duty to complete it nonetheless. She estimated that with the progress she had made earlier and during her lunch break, she could wrap everything up by around 11:00 PM.

Just then, Layla called, her voice filled with concern. “When will you be home?”

“I have to work late tonight. I’ll be back later,” Stella replied, trying to keep her tone light.

“Let me ask Jonathan to pick you up,” Layla suggested, worry evident in her voice.

“I drove today,” Stella explained, not wanting to impose.

“Then let him wait for you downstairs. It’s late, and I don’t want you driving around alone while pregnant,” Layla insisted, her maternal instincts kicking in.

Stella didn’t argue; she knew Layla meant well.

At 9:00 PM, Jonathan called her, his voice cheerful as he informed her he had brought supper. “I’m downstairs, waiting for you.”

Feeling the pangs of hunger and the heaviness in her legs, Stella decided a short walk would do her good. She left her workstation and took the elevator down to the ground floor. The building was still aglow with lights, bustling with those who were burning the midnight oil.

As she stepped out of the elevator, she unexpectedly ran into Scott, the man she had seen with Max the previous day. He was Audrey’s older brother, and she guessed he was there to see Tristan, who often worked late into the night, sometimes even for days on end without rest.

Scott approached her, concern etched on his face. “Did you get hurt yesterday?” he inquired, genuine in his worry.

Stella felt a rush of gratitude. “Thank you for helping me. I didn’t get the chance to express that yesterday. I’m fine now.”

Scott’s demeanor was markedly different from Max’s, and Stella couldn’t help but wonder if it was simply because he didn’t know the truth about her. To him, she was just the woman occupying the space that rightfully belonged to Audrey.

“It’s nothing,” he replied, brushing it off casually.

Stella felt the urge to distance herself from him, wanting to avoid any connection to Tristan’s world, especially since Scott was Audrey’s brother. “Excuse me,” she murmured, her tone cool and distant.

Scott picked up on her discomfort and stepped aside, allowing her to pass.

As she walked toward Jonathan, she spotted him entering the lobby with a thermal food container in hand. “Jonathan, over here!” she called out, relief flooding her as she approached him.

Scott turned his head instinctively, noticing Jonathan’s arrival. He quickly averted his gaze and headed toward the elevator, leaving Stella to enjoy her meal in peace.

Settling into the lobby’s public seating area, Stella began to eat the sumptuous supper Jonathan had brought from a five-star restaurant. The aroma wafted around her, making her stomach growl in appreciation.

“When do you think you’ll finish tonight?” Jonathan asked, concern etched across his features.

“In about two more hours,” she replied, trying to sound optimistic.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify