Chapter 33

~ Franklin ~

The meeting was a grueling four-hour marathon.

By the time it was over, my mind was a fog of numbers and corporate strategy.

All I wanted was a glass of scotch and a moment of peace without Octavia hounding me to sign those divorce papers.

Lately, I had noticed Bella acting strange—distant, perhaps, or just different. It had been going on longer than I cared to admit, but because I loved her, I chose to look the other way.

Our communication had dwindled; now, it seemed I was always the one reaching out.

I made a mental note to call her either tonight or tomorrow; I was simply too exhausted to deal with it tonight.

When I reached the estate, I expected the usual sight: Octavia hunched over her laptop in the living room, hovering in the kitchen with the maids, or dozing off on the sofa—a position I’d caught her in more than a few times lately.

"Clarence?" I called out, tossing my suit jacket and briefcase onto the sofa.

He appeared from the dining room, his face set in a grim expression.

"Good evening, Mr. Flemington."

"Where’s Octavia? Tell her I’m not in the mood to discuss those papers tonight," I said, already turning toward the stairs.

Clarence cleared his throat, a sharp, nervous sound.

"She isn’t in her room, sir."

I paused, my hand tightening on the banister.

"Is she at the office this late? I didn’t see her car in the driveway."

"What I mean, sir... is that she left," Clarence said.

"Left? What do you mean ’left’? Did she say she was going somewhere? To her parents’ house?" I asked, my confusion quickly morphing into irritation.

"No, sir. She packed all her things. Her suitcases, her cat... everything. She told the staff that you were separating—that the marriage was over."

A cold, sharp spike of fury shot through me.

"She had no right to broadcast our private business to the staff! Where did she go?"

"I don’t know, sir. She didn’t disclose her location. She just drove off."

I stood there for a second, my mind racing.

Then I bolted upstairs, taking them two at a time.

My heart was hammering against my ribs—not out of fear, I told myself, but out of pure, unadulterated rage. How dare she? How dare she walk out when I told her we weren’t finished with the conversation?

I burst into her bedroom, half-expecting to find her hiding in the closet or weeping on the bed as part of some dramatic ploy.

But the room was a tomb.

It was stripped bare.

The vanity was a desert—no perfumes, no brushes, no scattered jewelry.

She hadn’t even left a note.

The walk-in closet doors stood wide open, revealing rows of empty hangers that rattled in the draft from an open window.

Even the cat was gone.

The silence was deafening.

I stood in the center of the hollow room, feeling suddenly overwhelmed, the weight of the day finally crashing down on me.

"Mr. Flemington?"

I looked up to see Olga standing in the doorway.

She looked at me with a profound, quiet disappointment that grated on my nerves.

"Seeing how close you were with her, I’m sure that you convinced her to leave, didn’t you?" I barked, collapsing onto the edge of the stripped bed.

"Olga did not convince Octavia. Octavia chose to leave," she said firmly. "All Olga did was let her go... so she could be happy."

"You let her go? You let my wife walk out of this house? I see my fucking enemies clearly now, Olga. You’re one of them."

"Olga is no enemy to you, Mr. Flemington. But Octavia deserved to be happy. You made her sad. You are the one who let her go long ago."

"Get out of my sight, Olga. Every word you say just adds fuel to the fire. I am not in the mood for this."

She gave me a long, pathetic look—as if she were the one who pitied me—and quietly disappeared.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Octavia’s number.

It didn’t even ring. "The number you are trying to reach is not available..."

I tried again and again, the same mechanical voice mocking me.

It finally dawned on me: she had blocked my number.

I stood up, the room suddenly feeling haunted by memories I didn’t want to have. I couldn’t stay there.

I left the estate and drove straight to Bella’s apartment.

"She left," I said, pushing past her the moment she opened the door.

"Who left?" Bella asked, sounding confused.

She was wrapped in a silk robe.

"Octavia. She cleared out of the estate." I threw myself onto her couch and rubbed my temples.

"Shouldn’t that be good news for us?" Bella asked, sitting beside me and tucking her legs under her.

"It is, but...she’s rushing everything, I was going to be the one to file for a divorce, not her," I said, throwing my hands up in frustration.

"Who cares if it was either you or her that needed to file for a divorce first? And who cares it she’s rushing? What matters is that she’s gone. This means the divorce is actually happening."

"It’s more than that, Bella," I mumbled. "She really wants the divorce to push through."

"Even better! This calls for a celebration," she said, heading to the kitchen to fetch a bottle of wine.

"I don’t know," I sighed. "Should it?"

Bella paused, her arms crossed as she looked at me from the kitchen doorway.

"What do you mean you ’don’t know,’ Franklin? This is what we wanted. Unless...you actually have feelings for her? Tell me, do you?"

"What? No! Don’t be ridiculous. You know I loathe her. You’re the only woman I love."

"Then why does it bother you that she’s gone?"

She was right. Why was I so worked up? It wasn’t like I missed her.

I didn’t have feelings for her.

I couldn’t have feelings for her.

"Here." She handed me a glass.

"Cheers to being liberated from the whore." She clinked her glass against mine with a triumphant smile.

"Cheers," I echoed, though the word felt hollow.

"Good riddance to bad rubbish, right?" Bella whispered in a sultry voice.

"Yeah."

She set the glasses down and slowly pushed me back against the cushions, straddling my thighs.

As we began to make out, I leaned into her neck, but I paused.

"Your scent is different today, Bell," I noted, inhaling deeply.

It wasn’t her usual perfume.

She tensed for a split second before flashing me a quick smile.

"I just thought I’d try something new. I didn’t want to bore you with one scent." 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

"You could never bore me, Bell," I said, pushing the thought aside.

I scooped her into my arms and carried her toward the bedroom, desperate to lose myself in her and forget the empty, quiet room I had left behind.