Ana's POV
The apartment's light faded as evening crept in. I switched on the lamp, embracing this precious slice of silence.
Life at the Collin house meant constant chaos.
Hughes would throw tantrums whenever I mentioned homework. Ridley figured I had it made, lounging at home with the kid. He never grasped that I couldn't catch even a second of peace.
I focused on the wall clock's steady rhythm.
Emotions crashed over me like a wave. The urge to break down hit hard. Then a jarring ringtone sliced through the quiet.
Ridley's name flashed on my screen. I hit decline instantly. But he wouldn't quit, calling over and over. The endless noise pounded behind my eyes until I cracked.
Ridley's tone was arctic. "Ana, where the hell are you at this time? What's your location?" His words stayed controlled, but rage bubbled underneath.
A harsh laugh escaped me. 'Classic,' I thought bitterly. This was our pattern—he'd ice me out for days, then show up acting like our issues had magically vanished.
"Ridley, we're divorcing. Remember?"
My tone stayed neutral, slightly frozen.
Ridley's expression must have darkened instantly. I could almost hear his knuckles cracking around the phone. "Ana, what's this ridiculous drama for?"
"Ridiculous drama?" I laughed coldly. "How many times must I spell it out? I want a divorce. Show up at the courthouse so we can file."
Hughes's voice chimed in sweetly from his end. "Daddy, why do you spoil her? Mommy's just being nasty. The kinder you act, the nastier she becomes. Maybe she should stay away for good." His tone shifted, turning sharp with malice. "I don't need her anyway."
Those words pierced straight through me. I dropped my gaze, my fingers tightening. "I'm not returning. I'll prepare the divorce documents soon."
I ended the call and refused to overthink it. I dropped onto the bed like a broken doll, letting exhaustion pull me under.
——
Ridley's scowl deepened on his end. Without warning, he hurled the phone at the wall, watching it explode into fragments.
Ana had always bent to his will. Even during her minor rebellions, a few sharp words would bring her back in line. 'But now she's spending nights away. She's really pushing boundaries,' he thought furiously.
He sank into the couch and released a heavy breath. 'I gave her too much freedom, didn't I? Let's watch her struggle in Veridia, penniless and isolated.' Still, an strange emptiness gnawed at his chest.
Hughes observed his father's explosion. Eventually, he spoke carefully, "Dad, is she actually gone for good?" Hughes knew Ana cared too deeply to truly abandon him. But that icy voice on the phone left him shaken.
Ridley messed up Hughes's hair. After a pause, a cruel smile pulled at his mouth. "No, she won't. She can't abandon us, and she can't escape Veridia." But as he spoke, anxiety twisted in his stomach.
The house showed no sign of Ana. During her three-month imprisonment, the place had never felt this barren.
Now, with just one day passed, the void already ate at him. 'I must be losing my mind,' he scowled.
——
Ana's POV
Sharp knocking dragged me from sleep early the next morning. I shuffled to the door, still fighting off drowsiness, my hair a wild tangle. When I pulled it open, Morris stood there wearing that signature devil-may-care smile.
Morris's mouth quirked upward. He pushed past me through the barely-open door without asking permission. I stood there stunned. "What do you need?"
Morris dropped two massive bags on the table with a bang, his grin spreading at my shocked look. "Playing good neighbor," he said, patting one bag. "Moving-in presents."
Seeing my bewildered expression, he kept talking while unpacking into my fridge. "That Veridia contract turned into hell. Had to lease my friend's apartment. Right next door."
Something odd stirred in my chest. I scowled, biting back my response. Watching Morris handle everything so smoothly, I felt a sharp ache.
At the Collin house, Ridley wouldn't lift a finger. I remembered asking for help, only to watch his face turn to stone. 'He's completely capable. He just considers this my job,' I thought.
Morris headed into the kitchen and got busy. I watched his back, lost in thought. His wide shoulders narrowed to a trim waist, the apron strings highlighting his athletic build. He moved with runway elegance, yet carried the effortless sophistication of old money.
Ridley never cooked, wouldn't even enter the kitchen. He claimed, "Gentlemen avoid the kitchen." But later, I witnessed him making pasta for Aileen myself.
I realized I was thinking about Ridley again and laughed bitterly. 'All those years married.'
My thoughts scattered as Morris placed a pasta dish in front of me. I glanced up, meeting those eternally mischievous eyes.
His lips curved in a teasing smirk. "What's running through your head? Come on, try this." His tousled hair framed eyes that glittered like scattered diamonds, creating the picture of a charming rebel aware of his magnetism.
My pulse jumped. I looked down and stabbed pasta with my fork, only to wince as molten heat burned my tongue. I choked down the scorching bite. Tears flooded my eyes immediately, rolling down my cheeks.
For years, I'd begged for just one homemade meal from Ridley, for any proof he actually considered me his wife. But between Ridley's coldness and Hughes's frozen contempt, neither had ever wondered what I might want.
I raised my face, tears still clinging to my lashes, and managed a shaky smile. "It's delicious. Thank you." My voice made the appreciation sound breakable, like glass ready to shatter.
The amusement left Morris's eyes. His frown etched deep lines across his forehead. "Why the tears?"
Without that constant smile, he projected a dangerous intensity.
We weren't close enough to expose our wounds.
I lowered my eyes with a small head shake. That brief friendship we'd shared overseas years back had likely faded with time.
Morris had already gone beyond what was necessary by helping me this much.
He honored my silence and didn't press.
After I finished, he cleaned the dishes and departed.
Right then, my phone rang. My father, Darius Watson, was calling. The moment I picked up, his commanding voice filled the line. "Ana, why did you take forever to answer? Since when does my daughter make me wait?"
I frowned, cynicism spreading through me. "I missed it earlier. What's wrong?"
"My birthday's the day after tomorrow," Darius announced. "Bring Ridley and Hughes."
My frown deepened, annoyance building.
"That won't work for them, and Hughes has classes."
"What won't work? It's my birthday. Can't my son-in-law spare time for that?" He disconnected suddenly, cutting off any protest.