Page 78 of The Wrong Husband

"Did you know?" Emilia turned to him.

"Yeah," he admitted.

"Makes you no better than the others then."

"I know." He kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry, Emilia. I think you're a fine woman and if you weren't Damian's, I swear to God, you'd be the first non-escort I'd want to f…be with."

"Flattered, I'm sure," Emilia muttered.

"Duncan, you need to stop touching my wife," I clipped. Asshole knew what he was doing. Right when I was feeling proprietary, he was fucking with me. I knew why he was doing it too. This was my punishment.

"Daddy, don’t ever speak with me again," Emilia declared. She looked at my father and shrugged. "You've never done anything bad to me."

My father toasted her with a glass. "I wish I could say that, Feisty Girl, but I was completely on the whole let's get Damian divorced train. Trust me when I say, I am deeply ashamed and want to kick my son's ass."

"Please do. Send me film." Emilia took a deep breath. "Sign the divorce papers, Damian and get the hell out of my life."

She walked to the door and turned around.

"You all keep saying I'm not suited to be an Archer, and if being an Archer means lying, cheating, and manipulating, you're right, I'm not. Damien, you should marry Bianca. She and you are a match made in Archer heaven."

On that note, she left the room and me. Her head held high. My heart crushed under her brand new Jimmy Choo shoes.

Chapter 26

Emilia

"Don't you dare use your key, Damian," I screamed at him. "I changed the security codes so you're going to wake up the building and when the cops get here, I'll tell them you're trespassing."

The truth was I hadn't changed the code. I didn’t even know how to.

"Baby, come on." He knocked on the door again. "Please. Let me explain."

"You already did. You wanted revenge and you got it. I hope it makes you feel good." I downed my second glass of wine since I'd come home. Damian liked his wine and had stocked the new wine fridge he bought with some expensive shit. I didn't give a damn how the wine tasted. I just wanted to get drunk.

"Em, darling, are you drinking?"

"Go away, Damian. Sign the divorce papers. Or I'm going to tell the whole fucking world what you did, and you can then sue me for violating that NDA your mother made me sign."

"I'm so sorry, Emilia. So, fucking sorry."

Tears poured down my cheeks. They'd been doing that since I left that stupid gala. Best night of my life, indeed. Fucking joke.

"It's three in the morning," I heard Moana on the other side of the door. "Do marital therapy when it's not the middle of the fucking night."

"Moana, I need to talk to—"

"Go away, Damian," Moana said. I toasted her through the door. You go, girl. "What you did to her is so not okay. And in any case, she's not listening right now. She's crying and drinking. Come back tomorrow and—"

"No, don't come back tomorrow. Send signed divorce papers," I screamed.

"Go to sleep, bitch." Moana thumped a fist on my door.

After that there was silence. I peeked through the keyhole and there was no one on the other side of the door. I didn't know how to feel about that. A part of me thought good riddance. Another thought, that was all the fight he had in him?

I fell asleep after I drank the whole bottle of wine while I listened to Marvin Gaye songs. I woke up in the middle of the night to throw up and then fell back to sleep.

I spent the day in bed, ignoring the numerous knocks on my door. I subsisted on Diet Coke and grilled cheese sandwiches I made to nurse my hangover.