I didn't bother to reply. I blocked his number, powered down my phone, and vanished into the vibrant streets of Seaside City.
For half a month, I lived. I felt the sun on my skin and the salt in my hair. When I finally felt like myself again, I moved to a quiet coastal town nearby and rented a small space. I opened an art studio, returning to the painting career I had abandoned for his sake.
I thought Alex Delgado was history.
I was wrong.
One morning, as I unlocked the glass doors of my studio, a shadow fell over me. A man stood by the entrance, looking out of place in his tailored suit.
He moved fast, catching my arm before I could step inside. His grip was tight.
"Why did you block me?" he demanded, staring down at me. "Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you?"
I wrenched my arm free. "Mr. Delgado, we are divorced. Have some dignity."
He blinked, taking a step back as if I had slapped him.
He hadn't expected this. He was used to the old Alex Henson—the docile wife who anticipated his every whim. He wasn't ready for the stranger standing before him now.