The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 92

**TITLE: Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane**

**Chapter 92**

Gemma

I refuse to delve any deeper into this conversation. I owe him no explanations, not anymore.

Yes, he is my husband, but he certainly isn’t the authority in my life anymore.

Cassian stands there, a look of bewilderment etched across his face. He parts his lips, seemingly on the verge of speaking, then abruptly shuts them.

Good. Let him stew in his confusion.

When he finally gathers his thoughts and chooses to voice them, his words are far from what I anticipated.

“If you wish to return to the warehouse, all it takes is a letter. Just write to the warehouse managers, admit you made a mistake, and apologize for leaving.”

I am momentarily taken aback, my mouth hanging open in disbelief. What is going on in his mind?

I am not remorseful about leaving that job. The last thing I want is to step back into that warehouse, chained to a desk again.

The cherry on top of this absurd situation? The fact that he genuinely believes I would sit down and pen an apology letter, begging for forgiveness.

“Stop being so stubborn,” Cassian presses on, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. “We both know you won’t find a better opportunity than that one.”

A laugh escapes me, a sound laced with incredulity.

“Thanks for the generous offer,” I respond, forcing a smile that feels more like a grimace. Then, I drop the facade. “But I firmly said no.”

His expression darkens, a frown replacing the confusion, and I can see him wrestling with his instincts, trying—perhaps for the first time—not to unleash the powerful mafia boss that lurks beneath the surface.

From his perspective, he’s merely trying to make amends, and here I am, rejecting his olive branch.

“You left on a whim, Gemma. What’s so terrible about me offering you your perfectly good job back?”

I swing open the front door, my body angled halfway towards him and halfway towards the exit. “I don’t need you to survive, and I certainly don’t require your charity. I am more than capable of standing on my own two feet.”

If it weren’t for Cassian, I wouldn’t have squandered so much time and energy on that dead-end job. It took me three long years to come to terms with the fact that I should focus on my strengths. No matter the sacrifices I made, I would never earn the respect of others, especially not his.

Silence envelops us as I refuse to utter another word. I step outside, firmly shutting the door behind me.

As I approach the entrance of the hotel, I spot Jace waiting for me.

The ever-charming Jace opens the door with a flourish, his tight black T-shirt accentuating his well-defined chest and biceps. I can’t help but steal a quick glance, momentarily distracted by his physique.

“Is everything alright? Do you need any assistance?” Jace asks, his brow furrowing as he notices the frown creeping onto my face.

For a heartbeat, I hesitate, weighing whether to share my troubles. But finally, I spill everything out. Jace listens intently, nodding along, and then he offers, “I know a guy who fixes phones. Maybe we could take it to him.”

I had contemplated finding someone to repair it, but the thought of exposing my phone’s sensitive information made me uneasy. However, since Jace has brought it up, I trust his judgment. “Thanks! That would be wonderful.”

Even if the data might be unrecoverable, it’s worth taking a shot.

“Can I treat you to a meal? I owe you one, and it’s the least I can do to show my gratitude,” I suggest, feeling a sense of warmth in my chest.

His face lights up with a broad grin. “Anything you choose works for me.”

As we pull into the restaurant I’ve selected, Jace gallantly pulls out the chair for me. As we begin to order, he inquires about my food preferences and any dislikes. To my astonishment, he even remembers one of my food allergies.

“Just a heads up—please don’t add almonds to the avocado salmon salad,” Jace instructs the waiter, then turns to me, his expression earnest. “You’re allergic to almonds, right?”

I freeze, caught off guard. I do have a mild allergy to almonds, a detail I’ve always been careful to manage during my three years of marriage to Cassian, diligently removing any suspicious nuts from my salads.

I am utterly shocked. Quiet Jace knows this about me?

“How do you know that?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper, a mix of surprise and curiosity swirling within me.